Chapter 68: Heal Your Eyes
"Yes." Qinglan responded stiffly and turned to walk towards the tribe.
Fu Ying followed him and crossed two snow-capped mountains before reaching the Frost Plain Tribe.
However, as Qinglan said, the Frost Plains Tribe has become corrupted, lacking the laughter and joy of ordinary tribes. Before even stepping in, one can feel the dead silence and decadence of the tribe.
Seeing Qinglan coming back, someone from the tribe quickly came out to greet him. It was a female.
"Brother Qinglan! You're finally back!"
The female stepped forward and wanted to hug Qinglan, but the latter stepped back slightly and glanced towards the tribe.
"Brother Qinglan..." The female's eyes dimmed a little, but she quickly cheered up and asked, "Brother Qinglan, have you invited the witch?"
Fu Ying stared at her for a moment and recognized her.
The person in front of him is the female snow leopard, Jia, who broke the original owner's defense.
Fu Ying walked past Qinglan and said, "I am Huahua, the witch from the Cangshan tribe. Qinglan invited me here to treat your disease."
After being cursed, Qinglan lost his self-awareness and had to be taught by her in any response.
In other words, a numb fool.
"Treat, treat?" Jia took a breath and looked at Fu Ying in disbelief.
But soon, his eyes dimmed even more, and he bowed to Fu Ying and said politely, "Thank you, witch, but the plague cannot be cured. We have given up. We asked you to come here to preside over the ceremony."
Fu Ying was impatient: "Just treat it if I tell you to. Stop talking nonsense! Go in!"
After she finished speaking, she took the lead and stepped into the Frost Plains Tribe.
The plague is indeed a terminal illness in the Orc Continent, but she is a hacker after all, so how can she not solve it?
The original owner committed a sin and she had to clean up the mess, haha.
"Wu..." Jia was stunned for a moment, glanced at Qinglan, and hurriedly chased in.
After entering the Frost Plains Tribe, Fu Ying asked a few questions and found that the current situation was much better than she had imagined.
After being infected with the disease, more than ten people in the Frostfield Tribe were killed or injured. Although the remaining orcs had symptoms of varying degrees of severity and were waiting to die, there were still quite a few of them. If they could be cured, the Frostfield Tribe still had hope of reviving.
"Wu, how is it?" Jia followed Fu Ying closely, feeling a little nervous.
Although I know the disease cannot be cured, I still can't help but feel a little hope in my heart.
"It can be cured." Fu Ying nodded and said thoughtfully, "However, I don't have any herbs on hand, so I need to find some. I will first use the formation to purify the virus from the Frost Plains Tribe to prevent the disease from spreading further."
"Formation, formation?" Jia was bewildered, but seeing Fu Ying's calm demeanor, he felt happy. He nodded heavily and said gratefully, "Thank you, Wu! Thank you!"
Fu Ying shook his head and turned to look at the dull Qing Lan: "Come with me."
Qinglan didn't respond and slowly followed Fuying. Jia was a little confused, but didn't think much about it. His heart was focused on the tribe. It would be great if the epidemic could really be cured.
Fu Ying flipped his wrist, took out a bag of spirit stones, handed it to Qing Lan, and instructed him bluntly: "Go, bury them in a circle around the Frost Plains Tribe. Remember, bury them evenly."
Qinglan nodded, and when he turned around, he knelt on one knee silently, inserted his fingertips into the frozen soil under the frost and snow, dug a hole and put in the spirit stone. A faint blue curse pattern flickered on his forehead, and his movements were stiff.
Qinglan was so obedient and docile that Fu Ying felt a lot more pleased with him.
After he buried the spirit stones, Fu Ying bit his finger and used his blood to draw an array pattern in the air. After the drawing was completed, he snapped his fingers and the complex array pattern spread out from mid-air, covering the entire Frost Plains Tribe.
The "Purifying Spiritual Array" can release pure spiritual energy and eliminate disease.
However, the plague invades the body, and spiritual energy alone cannot cure it. It also needs to be supplemented with "Qingwen Pills" to dissolve the toxins of the plague. However, she currently does not have such pills on hand, so she can only temporarily stabilize the plague, otherwise it will continue to spread, and she will have to go out to find medicinal materials.
Jia felt a little nervous watching Fu Ying busying around.
At the moment the formation took effect, the sick tribesmen who had fallen into coma woke up.
Jia covered his mouth with his hands in excitement, his whole body trembling. "It's true, it's true! The plague can really be cured. The tribe is saved, we are all saved! The Beast God has finally seen the Frost Plains Tribe—"
Fu Ying wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. The spiritual formation consumed his energy and blood.
"Wu, the tribesmen have woken up! It really works!" Jia hurriedly ran towards Fu Ying, his voice excited and excited. However, when he ran in front of Fu Ying, he saw that she looked not good, and hurriedly asked: "Wu, what's wrong with you?"
Fu Ying shook his head: "The epidemic is not easy to cure. It took some effort."
"Wu...thank you." Jia looked at Fu Ying's pale face, full of guilt. She knelt on the ground with a plop and kowtowed to Fu Ying. Her forehead hit the frozen ground with a dull sound.
Jia's cracked lips moved slightly: "On behalf of the entire Frost Plains Tribe, I thank you for your gift."
Fu Ying's expression froze as he said sternly, "Get up. I'm going to find some medicine. The tribe's illness will be temporarily suppressed and won't get worse. Don't make any more sacrifices. We'll talk about everything after I come back."
Jia nodded heavily: "Don't worry, Wu, I know!"
Since the tribe has been saved, why would they take that last step?
While the two were talking, Qinglan stood aside, motionless, with his head lowered.
Jia turned to look at him and said hesitantly, "Wu, Brother Qinglan, is he... is he sick?"
Fu Ying glanced at Qinglan, too lazy to explain, and said slowly: "Probably, maybe losing his eyes has affected his brain. I'm not familiar with the area around the snow mountain, so let Qinglan go out with me to find medicine."
Ganana nodded and watched Fu Ying and Qinglan leave.
*
After leaving the tribe, Fu Ying broke Qinglan's spell.
His body suddenly stiffened, and in a moment, he hunched over, covering his head tightly with his hands that were bulging with veins. A painful sound escaped from his throat, he gasped for breath, and his back heaved violently.
"Qinglan, I'm not Fuying. I'm just a lonely soul that accidentally occupied this body."
"You should know very well that Fu Ying is not a witch."
"The real Fu Ying is dead. I took over all her messes. I have no choice but to correct them one by one. There is no need for you to transfer your hatred for her to me."
"You have to know that I am helping you now!"
Fu Ying lowered his eyes and looked at the trembling Qinglan, squatted down, and gave him a few words of advice in a serious tone.
She couldn't keep Qinglan trapped with the bewitching spell. Since he could see through her identity, she had to find another way. What she said was all true!
Qinglan's chest heaved violently, he breathed heavily, and cold sweat dripped down his tense jawline.
He suddenly chuckled, and the canine teeth that had bitten his thin lips were stained with blood, shining coldly in the twilight.
"How ironic..." He raised his head, his hair soaked with sweat, a sneer flickering between his delicate brows. "The great Beast God actually gave salvation... to someone like you."
Fu Ying stared at Qinglan expressionlessly.
The scorn on his face did not diminish at all, as if her previous explanation was just a bad joke.
She knew that no one would believe what she said. If she didn't comfort these injured men and rashly said that she was not Fu Ying, it would be just a ridiculous excuse to escape their view.
Fu Ying had a cold face and took out the bone knife from his waist.
Suddenly, a cold light flashed, and a strand of hair fell on the back of Qinglan's muddy hand. The tribal totem on it had stopped rotting and was emitting a cool feeling, as if it was getting better.
"I swear by the Beast God, I have no bad intentions. I just want to help you heal the Frost Plains Tribe."
"Heal your eyes."
Qinglan's fingertips gripped the frozen soil tightly, and the hair falling on the back of his hand seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.
The orcs swore solemnly, cut off their hair and sang curses, which was an ancient promise made by the orcs in the continent.
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