No matter how battered, a phoenix was still a phoenix. Craning its neck, it summoned its remaining strength to fly to the Abandoned Guest Hall. The deep blue tide behind them had been left half a street away, and the footsteps of the Ice Spirits grew more distant, but everyone knew they would not stop. A thin layer of ice had formed on its wings, shedding shards of ice with every flap, and a large portion of its feathers was scorched, revealing the pink flesh beneath. The phoenix landed on the roof of the Abandoned Guest Hall. The moment its talons touched the tiles, its entire body sank, shattering two of them.
“Screeech—” The adolescent phoenix let out a sharp, pitiful cry, its tail feathers sweeping across the eaves and brushing off a layer of snow. Then, its entire body transformed into a streak of light, instantly diving back into Su Li's dantian. Su Li clutched her stomach and bent over slightly. This phoenix would need at least a month to recover, during which she would not be able to borrow its power. She said nothing, merely rubbing her lower abdomen before straightening up.
Du Qi was dropped from the phoenix's talons. He landed in the snow, his feet slipping, and only managed to stabilize himself by leaning against the wall. His face was pale, his back hunched, wanting to vomit but unable to, propping himself against the wall in sheer nausea. The contents of his stomach churned several times, and though he tried his best to swallow them back down, he ultimately couldn't hold it in. “Blegh—” He threw up. One of Du Qi's few weaknesses—fear of heights—had been thoroughly exploited by the phoenix. Straightening up, he fished a handkerchief out of his sleeve and wiped the grime from the corner of his mouth. He folded the handkerchief, stuffed it back into his sleeve, and turned to slip into the Abandoned Guest Hall. The others followed closely behind, doing their best not to disturb the mortals sleeping inside. They slept peacefully, blankets pulled up to their chins, some snoring, others tossing and turning, completely unaware of what was happening outside, oblivious to the fact that the Ice Spirits had already swallowed nearly half the city. It wasn't out of cruelty; if they were to wake them, a panicked crowd of that size—screaming, crying, and scrambling to escape—would guarantee that none of them could leave smoothly.
The lights inside the Abandoned Guest Hall were still lit. The lantern at the entrance swayed wildly in the wind, its candle flame on the verge of dying out, with a large puddle of melted wax and a crooked wick. Du Qi reached out to straighten the lantern; the flame flickered a few times before stabilizing once more.
Stepping into the Abandoned Guest Hall, Lu Yan finally saw Jiang Ci. Her injuries had healed significantly; the scabs on her back had already begun to flake off, revealing fresh, pink skin that had yet to see the sun. She wore a blue-and-white outer robe that had faded from washing, its cuffs slightly frayed. Her long silver hair was tied into a single ponytail, its slightly curled ends draping behind her shoulders. In her hand, she held her sword, Qinghan. There were still a few uncleaned mud stains on the scabbard, and the jade plaque on the sword tassel was gone, leaving only a faded silk cord. She stood there with her back straight, like an unbroken sword. Lu Yan's eyes immediately caught the bloodstains spreading downward from her collar, soaking into a large patch of dark red. His heart squeezed violently.
“Are you hurt? Are you alright?!” He rushed forward instinctively. Taking a swift stride, his knee slammed into the table leg. He grimaced in pain but didn't stop. He grabbed Jiang Ci's wrist; it felt cool and smooth, like a piece of fine jade. His hands were trembling, though he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or something else.
“I...” Jiang Ci opened her mouth, but before she could speak, she was interrupted by Hong Jiu rolling her eyes.
“You blind fool! That's my blood! Mine!” Hong Jiu rolled her eyes. Supporting herself against the wall with her left hand, she flicked Lu Yan's forehead with her right. It wasn't hard, but it made a sharp sound. “Tsk, tsk. Our great Master Lu only cares about his new love while ignoring the old, doesn't he?”
Only then did Lu Yan snap out of it. He looked closely at Jiang Ci and realized the blood on her was merely stained; her clothes were completely intact without a single tear. Only then did he look at Hong Jiu. She was severely injured. A piercing wound ran through her shoulder blade, tearing a hole in her padded armor, where the cotton padding was soaked in blood and stuck to her skin. The flesh around the edges of the wound was torn open, exposing the dark red muscle beneath, which was still seeping blood. On her lower right rib, there was a wound so deep the bone was visible—or rather, the bone itself had been split. She stood there, supporting herself against the wall with her uninjured hand. Her face was as pale as paper, her lips blue, and the sweat on her temples dripped down, mixing with the melted snow. Yet, a faint smile still hung on the corner of her lips.
Du Qi, having just recovered from his nausea, frowned deeply at the sight of Hong Jiu's gruesome state. “What happened?”
Yao Wu had already knelt down to begin treatment. Placing his hand over Hong Jiu's wound, deep blue spiritual energy seeped from his palm, entering the torn flesh like threads to reconnect the ruptured blood vessels one by one. Hong Jiu clenched her teeth, the veins on her temples bulging as sweat dripped from the tip of his nose. She did not make a sound. The wound, which had been bleeding continuously, slowly stopped. But that was the limit of what he could do. The cultivation Yao Wu had gained from burning his life force earlier was already half gone. His face was even paler than Hong Jiu's, his lips chapped, and fine lines crawled around the corners of his eyes. All he could do was stop the bleeding; the rest was up to Hong Jiu to endure. He withdrew his hand, sat on the ground, and gasped heavily for air.
“Ran into a Moon Walker bladesman. He was after Shiyi's little girlfriend.” Hong Jiu waved her uninjured hand, her tone casual, as if speaking of something that had nothing to do with her. “I couldn't beat him. But while he was busy slashing me, I kicked him right into the middle of the Ice Spirits. No idea if he's dead or not.” She was still smiling as she spoke, but everyone present knew this wasn't a matter of underestimating the enemy; she had risked her life for this outcome. The blades of the Moon Walkers were not something just anyone could survive. She looked down at the wound on her ribs, pressed it, gasped in pain, and smiled again. “I won't die.”
“And who is this?” Hong Jiu noticed Su Li standing to the side. To her, this was a complete stranger. Even though Su Li was in a rough state—her robes scorched in several places, her hair disheveled, and her face pale—the allure of her half-demon lineage and the otherworldly aura of her half-step Void Refinement cultivation kept her from fading into the background.
“A business partner,” Du Qi said without offering much explanation. There was no time for detailed explanations anyway; the footsteps of the Ice Spirits were drawing closer.
“Shiyi, activate the formation.”
Lu Yan grunted in response, kneeling down to lift the wooden boards on the floor. Beneath the boards lay a slab of green flagstone, under which were incomplete formation lines. This was a one-way teleportation formation from Everspring City to Black Mountain Fort, built back when the Formation Sect still existed, but it had been abandoned for several years. The lines were mostly worn away; some parts had been waterlogged, the ink bleeding until the characters were unrecognizable. He squatted, pressing his fingers against the formation lines, and closed his eyes, using his spiritual sea to sense the residual traces. Spiritual energy seeped from his fingertips into the stone slab, spreading along the pathways of the formation lines like water refilling a dry riverbed. In the sub-zero weather, the cold seeped up from the cracks in the flagstone, freezing his knees stiff. Before long, a thin layer of sweat broke out on his forehead, dripping down his nose and freezing into ice beads before even hitting the stone. Gritting his teeth, he began re-carving the formation lines, altering the flow of spiritual energy, and adjusting the coordinate parameters. As the effects of the Focus-Stabilizing Pill began to fade, his spiritual sea began to fracture again, his temples throbbing with a sharp pain as if someone were driving awls into both sides of his head. He did not stop.
No one dared to speak aloud; they barely even dared to breathe heavily. Hong Jiu leaned against the wall, pressing her hand against the wound on her ribs. Yao Wu sat on the floor, cradling Nannan. Chen San rested his axes across his knees. Du Qi stood behind Lu Yan, clutching his brush. Su Li stood at the door, gazing out at the snow. It was a race against time, a race against death.
Outside, the Ice Spirits had already swallowed nearly half the city. The Abandoned Guest Hall was located in the southern part of Black Mountain Fort, so it hadn't been affected yet. But in half an hour at most, they would sweep over this place. Like a millstone, they would grind this street, this building, and these people to dust.
Suddenly, the formation lines lit up. A faint golden glow surged from Lu Yan's fingertips, spreading along the pathways of the lines like a sleeping serpent finally being awoken. The light grew brighter and denser, until the formation lines across the entire green flagstone blazed to life like a net set on fire.
A look of pleasant surprise washed over everyone's faces. But then, Lu Yan added a pale-faced remark that plunged them all into an icy abyss.
“This formation can only transport two people before it collapses.” His voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet room, everyone heard him clear as day. He knelt before the formation plate, his fingers still pressed against the lines, his shoulders trembling—whether from the cold or something else, no one knew. Spiritual energy was still pouring into the formation plate, and the lines remained lit, but the light wouldn't last much longer. He didn't dare look up at anyone.
The footsteps of the Ice Spirits outside drew closer and closer, and the floor began to vibrate slightly. The teacups on the table rattled gently against their saucers, making faint clinking sounds. The lantern on the wall swayed repeatedly, its flame flickering precariously.
Rate on N.U.
