The Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well.
The descent into the crater was like falling into the mouth of a dragon that couldn't decide if it wanted to breathe fire or frost.
Dugu Bo landed on the edge of the basin with a heavy thud, dropping Arthev onto the multicolored soil.
"We're here," the Poison Douluo grunted, stepping back to watch the show.
He expected the boy to collapse immediately. The air here was violent. One half of the valley burned with a searing, dry heat that cracked rock. The other half was frozen in a stillness so deep it felt like the air itself had shattered.
A normal Soul Master, even a Soul King, would need to constantly burn soul power just to keep their blood from boiling or freezing.
Arthev stood up, brushing the dust from his black uniform. He didn't shiver or sweat.
He simply took a deep breath.
Inside his mind, the Tailed Beasts were reacting, but not with pain. They were reacting with recognition.
'This heat,' Matatabi purred, her voice sounding like a cat stretching in a sunbeam.
'It feels like home. The radiation levels are high, similar to my Blue Fire. Your skin is absorbing it nicely, Arthev.'
'And the cold side,' Isobu whispered, his voice calm.
'It reminds me of the deep trench pressure. Cold, heavy, still. My coral grows best in waters like this.'
'It's too flashy,' Shukaku grumbled. 'Red and white. Tacky. Needs more sand.'
Arthev opened his eyes. He looked at his hands. His skin wasn't blistering or cracking. Because his body hosted the Two-Tails and the Three-Tails, his physiology had passively mutated to accept these extremes.
To him, the deadly atmosphere of the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well felt no more dangerous than a warm spring breeze.
"Thermal equilibrium," Arthev murmured, adjusting his collar.
"The convection currents are perfectly balanced. That explains why the plants can grow here without turning to ash or ice."
Dugu Bo stared at him. The old man's jaw tightened.
"You aren't using soul power," Dugu Bo accused, his eyes narrowing.
"You're standing in the kill-zone of the continent's most dangerous garden, and you aren't even protecting yourself."
Arthev looked at the Poison Douluo.
"My Martial Soul is the Elemental Tree, Senior," Arthev lied, relying on his established cover.
"A tree does not fight the weather. It adapts to it. My body has developed passive resistances to extreme temperatures over the years. Heat nourishes me. Cold preserves me."
"Passive resistance?" Dugu Bo scoffed. "To this level? You really are something else."
He gestured to the garden surrounding the lake.
"This is my treasure trove. And my curse. Some plants here can kill a Soul Douluo with a touch. I don't know the names of half of them."
Dugu Bo walked to a stone table near the edge of the safe zone, the only neutral spot in the valley.
"You have free reign. But be warned, boy... if you damage my herbs without cause, or if you fail to produce a solution for my poison, you will not leave this valley. I will bury you next to the magma pool."
"Understood," Arthev said calmly. "I assume I have permission to conduct experiments?"
"Just don't blow yourself up," Dugu Bo growled. He sat down on the stone bench and closed his eyes to cultivate. He wasn't leaving. He was just watching.
Arthev stepped deeper into the garden.
The pressure increased. The plants here were ancient, filled with sentient energy.
He walked past a large, purple mushroom.
'Nine-Rank Purple Ganoderma,' Matatabi identified instantly. 'Good for vitality foundation. Useful.'
He passed a golden chrysanthemum.
'Singing Silk Tulip,' Isobu noted. 'Grants invulnerability to common energy attacks. Very rare.'
Arthev didn't touch them yet. He walked straight to the center, where the energies were most violent.
On the red bank grew a cabbage-like plant glowing with white-hot light: the Infernal Delicate Apricot.
On the white bank grew a frosty grass with eight leaves, the Octagonal Mysterious Ice Grass.
These were the source of the valley's power.
Dugu Bo opened one eye, watching Arthev approach the death zone.
'He'll stop now,' Dugu Bo thought. 'Even I can't get within ten feet of those two without my soul armor cracking.'
Arthev didn't stop.
He walked right up to the Infernal Delicate Apricot. The heat was intense, enough to melt iron. But Arthev's body, conditioned by Matatabi's plasma, merely felt a pleasant warmth.
"Pure Yang," Arthev observed, leaning in close, too close for a normal human. "Condensed heat energy."
He walked across to the Octagonal Mysterious Ice Grass. The cold was freezing⁸. But Arthev, possessing the deep-sea affinity of Isobu, felt his blood thicken slightly in a protective response, neutralizing the chill.
"Pure Yin," he whispered. "Molecular stasis."
Dugu Bo sat up straight, his meditation forgotten. "How are you standing there? Your blood should be frozen! Or boiling!"
Arthev turned, standing directly between the two lethal herbs.
"I told you, Senior. My body is a vessel. If the vessel is made of the right material, the contents do not matter."
He walked back toward Dugu Bo, leaving the deadly herbs untouched.
"These two are the key," Arthev explained, pointing back at the Ice and Fire plants.
"Your poison is heavy, cold, and corrosive. To neutralize it permanently, we would need to reshape your body using these two extremes. A solvent that breaks down everything."
Dugu Bo frowned. "I've thought of that. But if I eat them, I die. The energy is too violent."
"Exactly," Arthev nodded. "You lack the... specific constitution that I have. So, we cannot feed them to you directly."
"Then what is the plan, Scholar?" Dugu Bo sneered. "If I can't eat the cure, it's useless."
"We don't need a cure yet," Arthev corrected.
"We need a filter. We need something that pulls the poison out of your bloodstream and stores it safely, like a second liver."
Arthev turned his gaze away from the legendary herbs and walked toward the shadows of the cliff. He spotted a patch of slimy, dark green vines.
"Is that... Dragon Saliva Grass?" Arthev asked.
"Useless weed," Dugu Bo waved his hand dismissively. "It grows everywhere. It's a pest."
"In the outside world, it is useless," Arthev agreed, crouching down. "But here, growing next to the Ice and Fire Well for centuries, it has mutated. It has absorbed the ambient mist."
He plucked a leaf. He didn't need gloves, his skin was protection enough.
"This is not just grass anymore. This is a hyper-absorbent sponge."
He walked back to the Poison Douluo.
"I propose a test," Arthev said. "Give me a drop of your blood. Not the venom you create. The blood in your veins."
Dugu Bo stared at the boy. A Soul Master's blood was precious. But the boy had just walked through fire and ice without flinching. That commanded respect.
Dugu Bo bit his thumb and flicked a single drop of dark, purple-tinged blood toward Arthev.
Sizzle.
The blood flew through the air, acidic enough to burn wood.
Arthev caught the drop on the leaf of the Dragon Saliva Grass.
Usually, Dugu Bo's blood would melt plant matter instantly. But this leaf didn't melt.
It curled up, wrapping around the drop. The veins of the leaf turned purple, pulsing as it sucked the liquid in.
Then, slowly, the purple color began to fade from the leaf, leaving a clear, crystalline residue on the surface.
Dugu Bo's eyes widened. He leaned in. "It... separated the toxin?"
"Osmosis," Arthev said, smiling behind his calm.
"The mutated plant cells are denser than the toxin, so they force the poison out of the liquid suspension. It proves my theory."
He tossed the leaf onto the table.
"We don't need magic to cure you, Senior. We need engineering. We will use these herbs to build a filtration system for your meridians."
Dugu Bo looked at the leaf, then at Arthev. The suspicion in his eyes was slowly being replaced by hope, a dangerous, desperate hope.
"You really are a freak," Dugu Bo muttered, but there was no malice in his voice anymore. "A Science Freak."
"I prefer 'Researcher'," Arthev replied with a polite bow.
'He bought it,' Matatabi purred. 'The hook is set.'
'Good,' Arthev thought. 'Now we have free access.'
His gaze drifted past Dugu Bo to a large, magnificent flower swaying in the heat near the red bank. It was gold and crimson, shaped like a rooster's comb.
The Cockscomb Phoenix Sunflower.
It radiated intense, pure flying-attribute energy. It was the perfect supplement for a Bird Spirit.
"I will begin my preparations, Senior," Arthev announced. "I need three days to distill the essence of these weeds. Do not disturb me."
Dugu Bo grunted, closing his eyes. "Do what you want. Just don't die."
Arthev walked back into the garden. He wasn't just going to brew a cure. He was going to turn this place into his personal armory.
To be continued.....