The Blood Crown - Chapter 315

Yan Sikong froze and abruptly raised his head. That was—the sound of Feng Hun?!

With that howl, wolf howls echoed across the mountains, rising and falling, as if summoned by a call. Packs of wolves gathered from all directions. The sound was eerie and chilling, like the wails of vengeful ghosts. Even under the midday sun, it sent shivers down one’s spine.

Then came panicked cries from above. Although they couldn’t understand the Jurchen language, they could hear the fear in the voices.

The Jurchen, who had lived alongside beasts on the vast grasslands for thousands of years, knew wolves better than anyone and feared them deeply.

A wolf charged down from the mountain.

Its frame was massive, like a lion or tiger, with a golden half-mask covering one side of its face. Its gray-black, thick, and glossy fur danced in the cold wind. It moved so fast that it was nearly invisible to the naked eye, like a phantom gliding over the snowy terrain. Behind it, hundreds of wolves followed like arrows, racing down the mountain.

It was like a divine beast descending from the heavens, a king commanding the four seas. At this moment, it led its soldiers onto the battlefield!

The Jurchen soldiers, terrified, fired arrows, but they couldn’t stop the overwhelming charge of the wolf pack.

The wolves tore into the Jurchen formation. Horrifying screams echoed through the valleys, unending. The clash of humans and wolves—the tearing of flesh, snapping of bones, and spraying of blood—was a sight so horrifying it would be etched in memory forever.

Yan Sikong snapped out of his shock and shouted, “Attack—!”

People and wolves alike fell from the low cliffs. With the help of the wolves, the Feng family army climbed the cliffs and launched a counterattack.

Yan Sikong slapped Feng Ye’s face, his voice trembling. “Feng Ye, Hun’er has come to save us! Hold on, Hun’er has come to save us! Do you hear me?” He roared, “Where’s the medic?!”

A soldier stammered, “The medic… the medic is already…”

“Bring the medical kit!”

Blood kept bubbling out of Feng Ye’s chest. The arrow had pierced straight through the center of his chest—a nearly fatal wound. It was impossible for him to survive the journey back to Guangning.

A soldier brought the medical kit. Yan Sikong ordered, “Start a fire! Send someone for reinforcements immediately!”

Blood spilled from Feng Ye’s mouth, covering Yan Sikong’s hands. Yan Sikong’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, but the still-warm blood smeared across his face.

It was Feng Ye’s blood. Feng Ye’s blood.

Feng Ye half-opened his eyes, looking at Yan Sikong. He seemed to want to say something, but when he opened his mouth, more blood came out.

“Don’t talk. Don’t die.” Yan Sikong bit his lip hard, using the pain to force himself to stay calm. He sliced off the arrow shaft with his sword and carefully removed Feng Ye’s breastplate.

The soldiers built a fire nearby, trying to warm Feng Ye’s body.

Yan Sikong used his sword to cut open Feng Ye’s clothing, exposing the gaping wound. Seeing the torn flesh and the vivid red of the blood, Yan Sikong felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if the arrow had pierced his own heart.

Feng Ye couldn’t speak, and his eyes grew increasingly unfocused. His body grew colder, unaffected by the nearby fire. Trembling, he slowly raised his hand and weakly gripped Yan Sikong’s sleeve, his eyes filled with pain and longing.

Yan Sikong grabbed the arrow shaft with one hand and Feng Ye’s hand with the other. Choking up, he said, “Feng Ye, listen to me. You are the Wolf King. You might die, but not today, not here, not at the hands of these savages. You must live.”

Feng Ye stared at Yan Sikong without blinking, unwilling to close his eyes, afraid that if he did, Yan Sikong would disappear. He just stared at him and then gave a faint nod.

Yan Sikong gritted his teeth and pulled the arrow out in one swift motion, leaving a bloody hole in Feng Ye’s chest. Blood spurted out.

Feng Ye let out a deathly scream, his body convulsing violently.

Yan Sikong tossed the broken arrow aside, pulled out silver needles from the medical kit, and quickly inserted them into the acupoints around the wound before applying hemostatic powder.

But seeing the blood still seeping out, Yan Sikong felt utter despair. He had only learned a little medicine from his mother as a child. He was better at treating horses than humans. Guangning was still thirty miles away. If the bleeding didn’t stop now, Feng Ye would never make it back alive.

Feng Ye’s face was as pale as paper, his consciousness fading. He used the last of his strength to hold Yan Sikong’s hand.

If he were to die now, at least he would die in Yan Sikong’s arms. He wanted to imprint this person deeply into his mind so that in the next life, and the life after that, for eternity, he could find Yan Sikong again. He only wished that in the next life, they wouldn’t have to endure endless suffering and could… grow old together.

Yan Sikong held Feng Ye close, tears streaming down his face. He prayed to the heavens, to all the gods, that if Feng Ye could live, he would trade anything—even his own life.

Tears flowed from Feng Ye’s eyes.

At that moment, the sound of an approaching army came from beyond the mountain pass, and the ground began to tremble. In the next instant, the Feng family wolf banner appeared in everyone’s sight.

“General Que, it’s General Que!” The soldiers shouted in ecstasy.

The Jurchens immediately sounded the retreat drum made of animal hide.

Yan Sikong shouted desperately, “Get Que Wang to save the Wolf King, quickly!”

Xu Feng divided his troops, sending half to chase the fleeing enemies, while Yuan Nanyu rode over on horseback. When he saw Feng Ye’s injuries, his expression changed instantly.

Yan Sikong looked up at Yuan Nanyu, barely able to speak through his anguish.

Yuan Nanyu dismounted, grabbed Feng Ye’s wrist, and felt his pulse. His gaze darkened.

“Yuer…” Yan Sikong’s voice trembled uncontrollably.

Without hesitation, Yuan Nanyu removed his helmet and pulled the hairpin from his hair, letting his long hair cascade down. The hairpin was adorned with a tubular jade ornament, as thick as a thumb. He threw the hairpin to the ground and smashed it with his fist, shattering the jade ornament into two pieces.

Yan Sikong stared intently. Inside the jade ornament was a scarlet pill.

Yuan Nanyu carefully picked up the pill and softly said, “This was left to me by my master. It’s the Xuantiandan, an elixir from the Medicine Valley given only to direct disciples. Making one is as difficult as ascending to the heavens, and there are only three in existence. This divine medicine can preserve his heart and meridians.” He then unhesitatingly fed the pill to Feng Ye and used Ma Feisan to help it go down.

Feng Ye was still convulsing, and Yan Sikong had to hold him tightly.

Not long after Feng Ye took the pill, his convulsions miraculously began to subside. He kept looking at Yan Sikong until his eyes lost focus, and he completely passed out.

“Will this medicine save him?” Yan Sikong asked hoarsely.

Yuan Nanyu said gravely, “Second Brother, Feng Ye is barely hanging on. This medicine can only temporarily keep him alive. I will immediately send for my master to come out of seclusion.” He urged, “We can’t stay here. We must return to the city immediately.” He ordered someone to bring a carriage.

Together, they carefully placed Feng Ye onto the carriage.

Yan Sikong murmured, “Hurry back to the city, hurry…” Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. “Hun’er…”

“What?”

“Hun’er!” Yan Sikong stumbled to his feet. “You take Feng Ye back to the city!” He sprinted toward the battlefield strewn with corpses.

“HUN’ER!” Yan Sikong called as he searched frantically. He grabbed a soldier nearby. “Find the Wolf King’s wolf. Everyone, search!”

Corpses littered the ground—human and wolf alike. Wolves that had been agile and spirited not long ago now lay lifeless. Some were already stiff, while others, still clinging to life, breathed shallowly with vacant eyes, awaiting death.

Yan Sikong clenched his fists and cried out hoarsely, “Hun’er!”

“General, we found it!” A soldier shouted from the low cliff.

Yan Sikong scrambled up the cliff, tripping and crawling. Before him lay a field of human and wolf bodies. Among them, he immediately spotted the one-eyed giant wolf.

Three arrows were embedded in its body, and its back bore knife wounds. Its bright fur was stained with dark red blood, frozen into icy clumps.

The wolf lay powerless on the ground as a few other wolves circled it, howling mournfully and licking its wounds.

“Hun’er—”

Yan Sikong rushed over, collapsing in front of Feng Hun. The wolf’s single eye moved slightly, its pale blue iris calmly watching Yan Sikong.

Yan Sikong trembled as he stroked its fur.

Feng Hun let out a soft whimper, struggling as if trying to stand, but could only move its paw slightly.

“Feng Ye… is alive,” Yan Sikong choked. “He’s alive because you saved him. Hun’er, you can’t die. You can’t…”

Feng Hun stopped struggling and extended its tongue, gently licking Yan Sikong’s hand.

The tongue was warm, filled with the heat of life, defying the winter cold.

Yan Sikong wiped his face and examined Feng Hun’s wounds. None were fatal, but it had lost too much blood. He roared for help and had Feng Hun lifted onto the carriage as well.

A voice screamed in Yan Sikong’s mind: Don’t die. Don’t leave me. I beg you, don’t leave me one by one.