The snowy plain tore apart beneath their feet, as if the earth had opened a gigantic, abyssal maw. The fissure surged forward with unstoppable force, racing straight toward the Northern Frontier camp. The white-robed figures stood like phantoms at the edge of the crack, the shrill sound of their bone flutes growing increasingly piercing, like an elegy for the fallen.
Chu Hongying's Wind-Splitter spear was already in motion, but at the last moment, she forcibly altered its trajectory. The spear tip swept across the snow, throwing up a wall of snow several zhang high, temporarily halting the fissure's advance. She turned and grabbed the nearly-collapsed Shen Yuzhu, her voice low and urgent: "Hold on!"
Fine beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead. The brand on the back of his neck was red like a searing iron, yet it trembled slightly at the warmth of her palm.
"General..." His voice was hoarse, "This fissure... cannot be stopped by martial skill alone... it's a mechanical trap."
Before his words faded, Lu Wanning had already leaped to the edge of the fissure, silver needles shooting from her hands, embedding deep into the snow. "It's the Southern Frontier's 'Earth-Dragon Roll'! They buried trigger lines under the snow, activated by the flute sound!" She looked up sharply at the white-robed figures, who seemed engrossed in some ritual and largely indifferent to the attacks, finally locking her gaze on the dark figure on the ridge. "You've even stolen the Mo School's mechanical arts?"
The dark figure on the ridge let out a low laugh, and the flute sound ceased abruptly. He slowly raised his hand—a signal firework shot into the sky—
"BOOM!"
A greater tremor rose from the depths of the earth. From within the fissure, a giant door, mottled with rust, slowly ascended. It was covered in eerie totems matching the patterns on the arrow fletching. Deep within the entangled designs, one could vaguely discern a deliberately distorted, yet still recognizable, ancient emblem—it was strikingly similar to the Lu family crest on the keepsake left by Chu Hongying's father. A heavy scent of blood emanated from the door's seam, as if it connected to a hellish realm.
Gu Changfeng's face changed dramatically. "This isn't the Northern Di's method... This is a relic of the previous dynasty's 'Blood Prison Gate'! What are they trying to summon?"
"A purge."
Shen Yuzhu suddenly pushed Chu Hongying away and staggered toward the bronze door, each step leaving a blood lotus blooming in the snow beneath his feet. The brand on his neck was so red it seemed to drip blood.
"The true mission of the Wolfclaw Battalion during the Snow Wolf Valley battle wasn't slaughter, but to protect the secret behind this door." He turned to look at Chu Hongying, his eyes holding a determination she had never seen before. "General, in this game, I deceived you—I came to the Northern Frontier not for the new Emperor, but to destroy this door completely."
Chu Hongying's grip on her spear tightened violently. She remembered the half-map clutched in her father's dying hand, the bloody words beside her Third Uncle's frozen corpse, the suppressed look in Shen Yuzhu's eyes every time he coughed up blood... So everyone was merely a piece on the chessboard, and the players manipulating them had long been lurking in deeper darkness.
"What's the use of saying this now!" Zhao Dashan roared, cutting down an approaching white-robed figure. "The door is opening!"
The bronze door groaned with the sound of heavy mechanisms, the seam gradually widening, revealing churning black energy within. The white-robed figures chanted strange incantations in unison. The bone flute sound rose again, this time drilling directly into their minds. Many soldiers clutched their heads and screamed, blood trickling from their ears and noses.
"Guard your minds!" Chu Hongying commanded sharply, her Wind-Splitter spear weaving a silver screen, but it couldn't block the pervasive sound waves.
At the critical moment, a clear, melodious sound of a zither cut through the air. The music was distant, as if it had been lingering in the wind and snow for some time, only now suddenly coalescing.
The melody poured down like a cleansing spring, instantly diluting the eerie flute music. A zither had appeared on the snowy slope as if from nowhere, its strings vibrating of their own accord. The sound waves transformed into tangible ripples, spreading out in concentric circles. Where they passed, the fissures sealed, and the black energy retreated!
"Is this... 'Heart-Cleansing Sacred Sound'?" Lu Wanning stared incredulously toward the source of the music. "It's Medicine Master! He's really in the Northern Frontier!"
The white-robed figures were thrown into disarray, the rhythm of their ritual completely disrupted. The dark figure on the distant ridge snorted coldly; clearly, he was the true mastermind. Abandoning the flute, he leaped down, swooping toward Chu Hongying like a falcon!
"Your life is mine."
His sword light was like lightning, too fast for the eye to follow. Chu Hongying raised her spear to block, but found this strike illusory and real, simultaneously sealing all her avenues of retreat—
In the instant before the blade struck home, she saw Shen Yuzhu look up at her, a faint, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at his lips.
"Thud!"
The sound of the blade piercing flesh was unnaturally clear.
Shen Yuzhu stood before her, taking the blow.
A short sword was embedded in his chest. Its hilt was carved with a wolf head pattern, identical to the brand on his neck. Blood dripped down the blade, blooming into a stark, vivid red upon the snow.
"This time—" He looked at her, smiling, blood frothing ceaselessly at the corners of his mouth. "I didn't lie to you."
Chu Hongying's breath caught.
Time seemed to freeze. She saw the shattered light in his eyes, the slight tremor of his fingertips, watched all the defenses she had built over ten years collapse utterly before this smile. A surge of heat rushed to her eyes; she gritted her teeth, trying to force it back, but the tears fell uncontrollably, splashing onto his icy cheek.
He weakly raised a hand, as if to wipe the tear tracks from her cheek, but his fingers stilled half an inch from her skin, ultimately falling powerlessly. His lips moved slightly, as if using his last bit of strength to utter a single word, but only managing a sighing breath:
"You..."
Then, he completely lost consciousness.
That unfinished word pierced Chu Hongying's heart like an ice dagger.
The long call of a horn sounded in the distance—Gu Changfeng had summoned reinforcements.
Seeing the situation turn against him, the dark figure sneered and vanished into the wind and snow. The white-robed figures retreated like a receding tide. The bronze door, suppressed by the zither's music, slowly sank back into the earth.
The immediate crisis was averted, but the battlefield lay in deathly silence, broken only by the moans of the wounded and the howl of the wind. The soldiers looked at each other, not yet recovered from the bizarre attack.
Lu Wanning rushed over to administer aid, her face growing paler. "The sword is tipped with 'Wolf-Devour' poison. The cold toxin has been activated. The two poisons are clashing... Unless we find Medicine Master, otherwise..."
"Where is he?" Chu Hongying's voice was hoarse yet abnormally calm.
"Medicine Master secludes himself at 'Listening Snow Cliff,' a hundred li from here. But the cliffs are surrounded by a labyrinthine formation; no one has been able to approach him for years..." Lu Wanning's tone held unprecedented hesitation. "And, General, we cannot be certain... whether the one dwelling on the cliff now... is still the benevolent healer of old."
Her words seemed to make the surrounding air grow heavier.
Chu Hongying gently laid Shen Yuzhu down. When she stood, the composure of a field commander had returned. Her eyes swept like lightning over the soldiers clearing the battlefield, sharply catching sight of a common soldier who instinctively lowered his head and averted his gaze as her glance passed over him—a few unnatural, brownish stains seeped through the haphazard bandages on the man's palm.
The traitor was still among them. The camp was not safe.
Without a change in expression, she planted her Wind-Splitter spear firmly on the ground, her voice carrying through the dead silence of the camp:
"Zhao Dashan assumes temporary command. Gu Changfeng investigates all suspects; detain anyone questionable! Lu Wanning accompanies me."
Her gaze swept over Shen Yuzhu's pale face one last time before she turned resolutely and strode into the swirling snow.
"The rest of you, guard this land—" Her voice pierced the wind and snow, branding itself clearly on every heart. "Wait for me to bring him back."
She knew: if she failed to find Medicine Master, he would die.
And if she found him... she might have to pay a crueler price.
Behind her, the pool of blood that had witnessed the life-and-death commitment was swiftly being covered, buried by the falling snow.
On the wind-and-snow-obscured ridge in the distance, the fading dark figure seemed to sense her resolve. He turned his head, casting an icy glance back at her:
"This is only the first door."