"Can't you act a bit more like a sage?" Green Robe Guest walked up to the dark-skinned old farmer, speaking rather helplessly.
The old farmer, whose skin contrasted starkly against the snow, shook the snow off his body and grumbled, "Sage my ass! I'm just a farmer. If it weren't for you begging me to come, I wouldn't bother with your damn troubles."
Green Robe Guest smiled and shook his head, then looked up towards the towering, perilous snowy peak, his expression growing solemn.
The old farmer stood up, holding a pitch-black large hammer in his hand, which seemed to exude a sense of strength.
"What's it gonna be? Do we go straight up now, or wait for others?" the old farmer asked Green Robe Guest.
Green Robe Guest answered, "Let's wait a bit longer. Just the two of us might end up dead very quickly."
The old man with a dark face showed disdain, "Is it really as fierce as you say?"
