Chapter Thirty-Five: Healing

Each terrace of the Abyss of Gods and Demons was neither particularly large nor small, yet searching through them was by no means an easy task. The mountainsides were blanketed with thorny shrubs and tangled undergrowth, trees of varying heights growing in thick clusters, making every step an ordeal. The Wind-listening Panther could easily conceal itself beneath any low-hanging branch, and Chu Jie’s group would be none the wiser.

“Boss, this isn’t working,” Liang Bo called out, rushing over from another direction, his brow beaded with sweat. He, too, was anxious.

Half an hour—so brief, really. Nearly a third of the time had already slipped away, and there was still no sign of the Wind-listening Panther. So many brothers were injured; they had come this far together, how could they not be worried?

Chu Jie could only force himself to remain steady. He was the heart of the Mad Dog Battalion—if he faltered, the others would lose their composure as well. With no better option, he suppressed his panic and said calmly, “Keep searching. Even if we can’t find it, we keep searching.”

Chen Long, Jiang Ziwen, and Liang Bo exchanged glances, each seeming to understand the turmoil in Chu Jie’s heart. They nodded and turned away to continue the search.

Chu Jie quickly tossed his broken sword into the air, riding it as an immortal might, soaring above the treetops. Yet inside, his heart was burning with anxiety. The mountain was overgrown with lush grass, some as tall as a man, some reaching only to the knee—it was hard enough to walk, let alone to search for a spirit beast as elusive as the Wind-listening Panther.

He dared not make too much noise, for fear of startling the creature into hiding for good.

“Chen Long, do you think our brothers are going to die if this keeps up?” Jiang Ziwen asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Chen Long clenched his teeth and shook his head. “I don’t know. We can only do our best.”

“The boss is more anxious than any of us. He brought us to the Abyss to strengthen ourselves against our enemies. None of us expected it to come to this. He must be more worried than we are,” Liang Bo croaked, his voice hoarse.

Jiang Ziwen sighed. “We’re only on the fourth terrace, and already we’re facing disaster. There are five more below. Who knows what’s to come?”

“That’s enough, Jiang Ziwen,” Chen Long snapped. “We’re all in this together. The boss is worried about morale falling apart, and here you are, whining like an old woman.”

Jiang Ziwen’s face clouded, not out of defeat but because this calamity felt almost too heavy to bear.

Liang Bo looked at the two of them, shook his head, and said, “This isn’t the time for bickering. Let’s just keep looking.”

Brothers united, their strength could break steel.

They all understood this, and their complaints were but fleeting words. Time flowed on, slipping away like water. The three brothers dashed through the undergrowth, their eyes as sharp as vultures, missing nothing—not even a passing insect escaped their notice.

Chu Jie continued his search from above, scanning the terrain below, but still found no trace of the Wind-listening Panther.

Half an hour slipped by. The appointed time was nearly up. From a distance, Chu Jie saw the injured brothers—some already unconscious. Despair threatened to engulf him.

“Boss! Boss!”

A startled shout echoed across the mountainside. Chu Jie whipped around to see Jiang Ziwen running toward him, tears of joy on his face. “Boss, we found it! We found the Wind-listening Panther!”

Chu Jie’s heart leapt. He soared over, landing before them. “Where?”

“Up ahead—just there!” Jiang Ziwen pointed excitedly.

Chu Jie nodded and hurried after him, soon seeing Chen Long and Liang Bo crouched beside the Wind-listening Panther, stroking its fur.

“Boss, we found it. It must be starving—it just lay here, too weak to move,” Liang Bo said, his young face slick with sweat.

Chu Jie, barely containing his excitement, urged, “Quick, bring it over.”

The appearance of the Wind-listening Panther was like a beacon in their darkest hour.

Nearly twenty of their brothers were suffering from worsening poison, barely clinging to life. Those tending to them were on the verge of tears—not from fear, but from the bonds of brotherhood.

“Enough crying. Get up,” Chu Jie soothed them, then turned to ask, “How do we use this beast to heal the wounds?”

“Boss, only you can do it,” Chen Long replied, leading the Wind-listening Panther forward. “To cure the injuries, we need someone who has mastered the Iron Body Mirror. You must use your spiritual energy to draw out the essence within the Wind-listening Panther, shape it into small spheres, and feed them to the poisoned brothers. That will heal them.”

Chu Jie was startled; he had never heard of this before, but there was no time to ask questions. Nodding, he followed Chen Long’s instructions, gathering his energy and placing his hands before his chest, closing his eyes.

A surge of spiritual energy poured from his palms, and with a sudden thrust, he struck the Wind-listening Panther.

The beast, already too weak to move, collapsed with a cry, unable to stand. From its mouth burst a great breath of vital essence.

Channeling essence was no easy feat—it required precise timing and control. Chu Jie quickly cupped his hands, enveloping the exhaled energy with his own, striving to keep it from dissipating, though it demanded immense strength to maintain.

The poison in his brothers’ bodies was growing ever more potent, but Chu Jie had no choice but to press on, draining his own vitality if necessary.

The mass of essence gradually separated into orbs of varying sizes in his palms. He swiftly fed them to the poisoned brothers.

A coolness swept through their bodies; the poison, which had been eating into their very bones, was suddenly arrested, then scattered—like ice vanishing before fire.

Color returned to the faces of the stricken men: first pale, then sallow, then flushed. Their spirits gradually revived.

With a sigh of relief, the crisis had passed.

Chu Jie lowered his hands, exhaling deeply, his overwrought nerves finally able to relax.

“Boss, the Wind-listening Panther is nearly starved to death. What now?” Liang Bo asked.

Chu Jie’s mind was most troubled by how to deal with the Doom Lord. He wondered aloud, “Will we need this beast to defeat the Doom Lord?”

Chen Long nodded. “I’ve heard the Doom Lord himself isn’t much, but his Nether Fox is truly formidable. If we can kill the Nether Fox, the Doom Lord becomes nothing but a puppet. We can finish him off ourselves.”

“So it all depends on the Wind-listening Panther. We’ll need to keep it alive,” Chu Jie said with a wry smile. “All right, everyone rest for now. Those who are able, find something for our hero here to eat—we can’t let our benefactor go hungry.”