Feng Yi knew he had to fight the Snow Wolves—he needed their pelts. The cold was unbearable now, each step like treading on blades as the biting chill seeped from his soles straight into his bones. Without the wolves' fur, reaching their destination would be near impossible. But first, he had to kill them.
Despite his poor condition, Feng Yi chose to fight. Though he had rested for a day, walking two kilometers here had reopened his wounds. The cold had worsened them, freezing the injuries until they throbbed with pain. Now, agony and frost gnawed at him relentlessly.
His body trembled uncontrollably, each breath like inhaling shards of ice. His blood felt sluggish, as if freezing in his veins.
Ye Yu lay on a block of ice, his face flushed red from the cold. Feng Yi realized—they needed those pelts.
Thirty Snow Wolves circled them, their lithe forms gleaming under the snow's reflection. Their eyes burned with hunger, as though prey had been scarce for too long.
As the wolves closed in, Feng Yi shielded Ye Yu, his hands shaking slightly but still raised in a fighting stance.
Roar!
The wolves lunged, howling as they shot toward Feng Yi like arrows loosed from a bow.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Feng Yi met them head-on. His fist whistled through the air, aiming for one wolf—but it dodged effortlessly. Another attacked from the side, its claws slicing into Feng Yi's arm.
"Tch—!"
He hissed as the claws tore into his already wounded flesh. The bandage split, blood seeping out—only to freeze instantly into dark-red shards in the frigid air.
The pain nearly blinded him, but he clenched his jaw and endured. He couldn't falter now. Though he could leave at any moment—and Ye Yu with him—they had come too far to retreat.
"Sissy Fist, Exploding Swan!"
With a snarl, Feng Yi charged forward, plunging into the brutal fight.
The wolves moved as if unaffected by the cold, their attacks growing frenzied. Feng Yi weaved through them, his figure vanishing in flurries of snow only to reappear amid sprays of blood. His movements slowed, each strike draining him further, while the wolves' claws and fangs carved fresh wounds into his battered body.
One wolf seized an opening, leaping high to sink its teeth into his shoulder. With a roar, Feng Yi hurled it aside—but the effort tore his wounds wider, blood gushing like a spring.
As time passed, blood loss weakened him further. The cold gnawed deeper, his steps growing unsteady, his mind hazy. Yet his resolve burned fiercer—he had to kill them all. Their pelts were their only hope.
By now, many wolves lay dead. The survivors hesitated, unnerved by Feng Yi's unyielding ferocity despite his failing body.
Finally, the last ten fled.
Feng Yi exhaled in relief. He had put on a fearsome front, but he was at his limit.
Luckily, the wolves had been intimidated enough to retreat.
Twenty down, these Snow Wolf pelts should be enough.
Feng Yi's face was as pale as paper, his entire body covered in wounds. The blood staining the snow around him formed a glaring crimson patch. After catching his breath briefly, he struggled to sit up, forcing his battered body to crawl toward the Snow Wolf carcasses. With trembling hands, he gripped his dagger and began skinning the wolves.
The cold had stiffened his fingers, making every movement agonizingly difficult. Yet he persisted, stripping pelt after pelt before draping them over Ye Yu's body. He layered another over him before finally covering himself with one. Though the biting cold remained, the bone-deep chill lessened slightly.
Seeing hope, Feng Yi quickened his pace, continuing to drag the ice block forward.
Soon, only three kilometers remained to the finish line—almost there.
Feng Yi's body felt unbearably heavy, his wounds worsening. From above, the vast white ice stretched endlessly, marred by a long, bloody trail—his own blood, dripping steadily along the path.
His vision blurred, his body swayed, but he clenched his teeth and pushed on, repeating to himself:
"Almost there. Hold on. You must hold on. If you collapse now, all this effort will be wasted."
...
Just as Feng Yi was about to lose consciousness, he punched his own chest—already riddled with wounds—the sharp pain jolting him awake enough to keep moving.
Meanwhile, outside...
Yang Luo and the other two wore grim expressions.
"It's been too long. Damn it, they must still be alive."
"The third trial must be underway."
"Don't worry. In his condition, there's no way he'll pass."
...
Lin Muxue frowned slightly, a trace of concern crossing her face.
"Could he pull off another miracle?"
Li Cang reassured her: "Even if he does, so what? The higher his level, the more experience you'll gain when Xue Er defeats him."
Lin Muxue nodded. "True. No point dwelling on it. Let's focus on training—we only have about twenty days left until the duel."
At that moment, the Dominant Feather Pirate Crew received a call—from Xiong Houdao.
After emerging, their crew's medic had treated him, and after some rest, his condition had improved slightly. He immediately contacted the Dominant Feather Pirate Crew.
Xia Ling answered, and as Xiong Houdao recounted what had happened, shock rippled through them.
The crew members were equally stunned. Even they might not have endured such hardship—some might not have even attempted it. Yet Feng Yi had gone to such lengths for Ye Yu.
Gratitude and admiration swelled within them, easing their worries slightly. They prayed silently, hoping Ye Yu and Feng Yi would pass the third trial.
Meanwhile, Feng Yi trudged forward like a walking corpse, his gaze fixed ahead with a single thought: reach the finish line.
His face grew paler, his options nonexistent. His eyelids fought to close, but each time, he struck his wounds—pain forcing him awake. He repeated this cycle countless times.
Finally, the finish line came into view—just a hundred meters away. But Feng Yi had long surpassed his limits; his legs could barely move.
"It's right there. We have to make it. Even if I don't... Ye Yu must."
With immense effort, Feng Yi positioned himself behind the ice block, dredging up the last vestiges of his strength. His stiff right leg lifted painfully before he kicked forward with everything he had.
With a thud, the ice block slid toward the finish line—Ye Yu secured atop it, carried forward.
Feng Yi collapsed onto the ice, nearly passing out, but his eyes didn't fully close—he kept them slightly open, determined to watch Ye Yu reach the finish line.