nashuaworldcup Chapter 500
Chapter 500
"Ice Crystal Grass! Ice Crystal Grass from the frigid lands!" Ye Jiuchen's roar shook the windowpanes. His voice carried the ecstatic joy of surviving a catastrophe, but also a deeper anxiety—the Ice Abyss was located atop a snow-capped mountain a hundred miles away, where a fierce blizzard was raging, and the round trip would take at least two days. But the wounded couldn't wait, and many more innocent people couldn't wait either!
The master instantly grabbed his wrist, his palm burning hot: "Jiuchen, you must immediately find the Ice Crystal Grass! Use my Wind Chaser Horse, don't stop along the way!" The old man turned and picked up his medicine box, his eyes burning with determination, "We'll continue to sustain the wounded here, even if they only have their last breath, we'll wait for your return!"
Ye Jiuchen gripped his sword tightly, the metal hilt digging painfully into his palm. He glanced one last time at the struggling wounded man, then turned and rushed into the night. Outside, the north wind whipped up fine snow that stung his face, but it couldn't compare to the chilling cold in his heart. Across the vast snowfield, a figure sped away like a black meteor, leaving only a trail of hoofprints gradually buried by the wind and snow, stretching into the unknown distance in the darkness.
The north wind, carrying snowflakes like steel pellets, lashed at Ye Jiuchen's face. His horse, the Chasing Wind, churned through the knee-deep snow, carving two black furrows. He gripped the reins tightly, his rough palms already bleeding, yet he continued to whip the horse, urging it on: the Ice Crystal Grass's growth cycle was only three days, and two days had already passed. If they couldn't obtain it before dawn tomorrow, the injured and many more poisoned would be in grave danger.
The sound of hooves suddenly turned muffled, and alarm bells rang in Ye Jiuchen's mind. Just then, the snowdrifts on both sides exploded, and more than a dozen dark figures burst from the ground! As their black robes billowed, the shrill sound of blades slicing through the air tore through the snowy night. Moonlight reflected off the blades, refracting a chilling, eerie blue—they were clearly poisoned weapons!
"You're courting death!" Ye Jiuchen roared, his longsword flashing with a chilling light as it was drawn. The blade sliced across the face of the first black-robed man, warm blood splattering onto the snow and instantly freezing into dark red ice crystals. But more black-robed men surged forward like a tide, their movements perfectly coordinated, their blades weaving an impenetrable net that trapped him in the center.
During the fierce fight, Ye Jiuchen suddenly felt a chill on his left shoulder; the stinging pain of his flesh being slashed made him stagger. The taste of blood spread between his teeth, but he became even more frenzied, his sword strikes like a storm, each stroke carrying an overwhelming hatred for the black-robed men. However, his opponents were simply too numerous, and gradually, his breathing became heavy, his swordplay lost its sharpness, and the exhaustion made his movements increasingly sluggish.
Just as his defense faltered, and a poisoned blade was about to pierce his throat, a clear shout pierced the night: "Stop!"
Dongfang Wan'er charged forward like a red plum blossom in the snow, followed by more than twenty villagers wielding farm tools. Her soft sword danced with dazzling swordplay, focusing on lower body attacks. Several black-robed men were caught off guard and tripped. The villagers raised torches, roaring as they swung hoes and sickles, the firelight staining the snow crimson and shattering the black-robed men's formation.
"Jiuchen, run!" Dongfang Wan'er brandished her sword, forcing back the enemies before her. Strands of her hair were stained with blood on her pale face, yet she smiled brightly. "Master used golden needles to keep the wounded alive; we can hold on!"
Ye Jiuchen's throat tightened. He glanced deeply at his bloodied comrades, then abruptly turned his horse around. The steed neighed loudly and galloped away, its hooves pounding the corpses and snow. The shouts of battle behind him faded, but his gaze grew ever more resolute—the Ice Crystal Grass, he had to get it!
Meanwhile, the atmosphere inside the medicine hut was heavy as lead. The master was soaked in sweat, his ten fingers almost entirely covered in gold needles, yet he continued to shift the acupuncture points. The injured man's chest had stopped rising and falling, only the gold needles in his neck were still trembling slightly. The old man's bloodshot eyes were fixed on the window, muttering to himself, "Jiuchen, faster...faster..." His calloused hands suddenly trembled violently, yet he gripped his thigh tightly, forcing himself to stay conscious. In this small space, he was waging a heart-stopping tug-of-war with death, every second a struggle between life and death.
As dusk settled, the setting sun cast a blood-red glow over the desolate plains. Ye Jiuchen's black cloak billowed wildly on his horse, making him appear like a lone wild goose reborn from the ashes. The horse's hooves pounded the frost-covered ground, each leap kicking up fine ice shards that reflected a chilling light in the moonlight. He gripped the reins tightly, his knuckles white from the effort. The wind howled past his ears, carrying a biting chill, yet he couldn't suppress his rapid breathing.
The outline of the Ice Abyss finally came into view—a desolate wasteland covered in perpetual ice, with a ghostly blue mist swirling above the surface, like a sigh from the underworld. Ye Jiuchen dismounted, his boots clicking crisply on the ice, a chill running up his spine from his ankles. When he finally saw the scene at the center of the Ice Abyss, his heart sank into an abyss—the place where the Ice Crystal Grass stood was firmly sealed by an ice shield emitting an eerie blue light, its surface covered with mysterious runes, each pattern like some ancient curse.
Without hesitation, Ye Jiuchen drew his longsword, the blade tracing a silver arc in the air before slashing heavily at the ice shield. However, the moment the sword tip touched the ice shield, it only stirred up a string of tiny ice crystals; the ice shield remained intact. He swung his sword repeatedly, the wind howling and ice shards flying, but the ice shield remained as impenetrable as a fortress of bronze and iron. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, leaving a burning mark on his cold cheek.
Just as he was in despair, a ripple suddenly appeared within the ice enclosure, and a transparent phantom slowly emerged. The phantom's form was blurry, yet it exuded a chilling pressure, its voice ethereal yet icy: "To take the Ice Crystal Grass, you must exchange it for your most treasured possession." Ye Jiuchen's pupils constricted sharply. His master's kind face flashed through his mind, along with the dying wounded in the medicine hut. They trusted him, entrusted their lives to him, and the Ice Crystal Grass was their only hope for salvation.
"I..." Ye Jiuchen's throat tightened, his voice hoarse. He recalled the countless days and nights he had spent studying medical books, the image of his master teaching him to identify herbs, and the lives he had snatched from the jaws of death. His future medical expertise was his lifelong pursuit, the foundation upon which he wanted to practice medicine and save lives. Yet, at this moment, the lives awaiting treatment weighed far more heavily on his shoulders than his ideals.
"I'm willing to exchange my future medical skills for this!" Ye Jiuchen clenched his fist, his nails almost digging into his palm. "I only ask that you let me save them!" The phantom nodded slightly, and the runes on the ice shield began to slowly dissipate, the blue light gradually dimming. Ye Jiuchen quickly stepped forward and carefully plucked the Ice Crystal Grass. The grass shimmered with a soft white light, and the dewdrops condensed on its leaves seemed like tears from heaven.
He dared not delay for a moment, mounted his horse, and galloped home again. The cold wind was like a knife, cutting his cheeks painfully, but the ice crystal grass in his arms was like a warm flame, supporting his weary body. When the lights of the medicine hut finally lit up in the night, he almost staggered into the house.
"Master!" Ye Jiuchen handed the Ice Crystal Grass to his master, his voice trembling uncontrollably. His master looked at his pale face and disheveled appearance, a flicker of heartache in his eyes, but without asking any further questions, he immediately began treating the injured.
Watching his master's busy figure, Ye Jiuchen leaned against the doorframe and slowly closed his eyes. He knew that from this moment on, he might never be able to become a top-notch healer again; the pinnacle of medical skills he had once aspired to had shattered as the ice shield dissipated. However, when he heard the injured person's breathing gradually become steady inside the room, a relieved smile unconsciously appeared on his lips.
Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing him in a sacred glow. He finally understood that some sacrifices were made to protect something more precious; some sacrifices were far more worthwhile than personal ideals. As night deepened, the lights in the medicine hut remained bright, illuminating the hope of life and the unwavering choice Ye Jiuchen had made.