Chapter 61: Spawn Point

The worst possible outcome had come to pass. Ye Jingqiu steadied her trembling hands, drew a deep breath, and found herself surprisingly calm.

With the Captain unconscious and the Will Ring completely unresponsive, saving the two of them now fell entirely on her shoulders. This was no time for pointless worry—treating the Captain’s wounds and reaching A-Xie and Sister Zhouzhou were the absolute priorities.

Ye Jingqiu scooped a handful of cold river water to splash on her face. Icy droplets burst across her skin as she rapidly reviewed the vital details.

The Captain had mastered seven Instincts in total, four of them aggressive basic elemental ones. Yinghuo Gale Blade was out of the question right now, and Tyrfing would likely kill her if she tried to use it.

But 【Rebirth】 was critical.

Back in the Golden Hall, during that desperate one-on-one duel with the Candle Dragon, the Captain had held on solely through Rebirth, sustaining her body as it was blasted full of holes by elemental forces and Dragon Breath. Rebirth was a bizarre Aether Element Instinct, the only known case at the Base. When an Awakener’s body suffered catastrophic damage, it accelerated cell division to speed wound healing, yanking them back from death’s door.

Worry clouded judgment. Ye Jingqiu let out a sigh of relief, figuring the Captain’s life was secure for the moment with that Instinct active. Best-case scenario, Rebirth was already mending the muscle tissue and pushing out the shrapnel.

Night had deepened into an inky shroud, pale moonlight sprinkling sparsely over the mudflats. Ye Jingqiu exhaled a long breath of stale air and scooted closer to the Captain, ready to apply her paltry “Repair” command for some disinfection or whatever it could do.

Shi Zui lay utterly still on the beach, her light cyan new clothes no longer recognizable, stiff in a half-dry, half-damp state. The shrapnel lodged in the wound at the small of her back was crusted over with coagulated blood and splattered grime. By moonlight, Ye Jingqiu inspected the injury, so cautious she even lightened her breathing to a whisper.

Likely from drifting too long in the river, the fragment had sunk fully into Shi Zui’s back at heart level, level with the surrounding flesh in a straight line. Faint signs of inflammation ringed the wound. Ye Jingqiu peered closer with a frown and spotted thin blood lines streaking across the exposed shard.

Rebirth. Wound healing. Full restoration…

A thunderclap boomed in her mind. Ye Jingqiu knew exactly what was wrong! Those weren’t blood lines—they were signs of epithelial regrowth and granulation tissue in the proliferative healing phase!

Shi Zui’s extraordinarily potent Rebirth Instinct was working its magic in silence, but elements lacked any judgment! They operated mechanically under Instinct control alone. If that shrapnel shard wasn’t extracted from her back soon, Rebirth would encase it permanently in her flesh.

It had to come out.

Ye Jingqiu desperately dredged up her scant first-aid knowledge. This wound ran perilously deep; no way to eyeball its distance from the heart or its exact shape, let alone ensure pulling it wouldn’t shred a lung.

If it had nicked a major artery, the ensuing hemorrhage from yanking it free might overwhelm even Rebirth—the Captain could bleed out before it kicked in.

Ye Jingqiu clawed at her hair in frustration. Her C-rank Word Manifestation was no miracle cure for something this bad; staunching her own leg gash was the best it could manage. Right now, she needed to relocate the Captain somewhere safe, then venture out solo to find the Base—grabbing hemostatic herbs and bandages along the way. If she couldn’t link up with the team soon, it’d be a desperate gamble.

Do what she could, starting now.

Ye Jingqiu turned to the shard in her right leg. No room for hesitation. She took two deep breaths, clamped her collar between her teeth, gripped the fragment’s edge with her right hand, squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her resolve, and ripped it free—

She choked back a muffled grunt deep in her throat as pain like swarming army ants tore through her calf in relentless waves. Tears nearly welled up; Ye Jingqiu spat out the cloth, eyed the oozing wound, and murmured low:

“Repair.”

In an instant, the blood clotted, the gash sealing over several times faster.

Now mobile without hindrance, Ye Jingqiu summoned the Wind Element with exquisite care, levitating the Captain in place and whisking her to a cave at the mountain’s base.

Bamaw’s landscape was riddled with them—sedimentary limestone eroded by water and wind into countless hollows.

Twigs and branches littered the ground. Ye Jingqiu silently thanked her half-year of wilderness survival drills as she gathered fuel, struck a fire, and coaxed warmth back into her river-soaked, numb body.

Thank goodness for Word Manifestation; it let her tap into any elemental Instinct just enough to get by. Alone, she’d never have managed.

The cave’s temperature climbed steadily. Ye Jingqiu knelt by the flames, feeding in more wood. Soft firelight danced, stirring a gentle breeze that swayed the vines draping the entrance.

The silence was oppressively total. Ye Jingqiu piled stones to block the mouth, then shifted position to shelter the Captain from the rising mountain gusts.

Fire truly was the glow of life itself. Blanketing snow cloaked only mute despair, while leaping flames pulsed with vitality’s rhythm.

Ye Jingqiu gazed down at Shi Zui in quiet focus. Injury had softened the Captain’s closed-eyed repose; none of her usual icy edge remained. The aloof detachment of her daily demeanor had melted away, yielding to something serene and docile. Eyelashes quivered faintly with each breath, a trace of blood marring her nose bridge, the whole evoking a rare fragility.

“Captain…” Ye Jingqiu murmured, as if to herself. The stillness gnawed at her—she wasn’t built for quiet. “Hang on while I scout the terrain. Aether and I raced through memorizing maps; fingers crossed it’s good for something. I’ll scratch an SOS on the mudflats—A-Xie will spot it for sure when she flies in…”

She trailed off, noticing the firelight baking the bloodstain from the Captain’s face bit by bit. Ye Jingqiu tore a strip from her own clothes, soaked it, rose with utmost care, sidled over, and dabbed gently at the mark.

A peculiar warmth seeped into her palm, and Ye Jingqiu thought to herself, Just as I suspected. She pressed the back of her hand against Shi Zui’s forehead, where stray locks of hair clung messily to her skin, and sure enough, it burned with fever.

Shi Zui had a fever.

“Sigh. Captain, I really never imagined you’d get sick one day.”

Ye Jingqiu let out a sigh as she tore off a strip of cloth to soak in cold water. A subtle, complicated mix of emotions stirred in her heart. Shi Zui, who had once faced down the Candle Dragon single-handedly, was practically the embodiment of strength and independence at the Base. Yet now, watching their usually indomitable captain lie there in such a fragile state, quietly asleep, Ye Jingqiu felt a strange, faint pang.

The cloth, drenched in icy water, carried a chill that even cooled the air around it when the breeze brushed past. Ye Jingqiu gently laid it across the captain’s forehead, completely oblivious to how Shi Zui’s eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly.

The strip was a bit small, barely covering much area. Ye Jingqiu stretched it out while chattering away, marveling at when the captain might wake and whether that shrapnel posed a serious risk, all the while using her fingertips to press it down firmly, making sure it stayed in place.

Mission accomplished. Ye Jingqiu nodded in satisfaction. Perhaps reluctant to leave the captain in such an unusually peaceful state, she leaned in closer, intending to give Shi Zui one last check before heading out.

Their faces drew infinitely close—close enough that their noses nearly touched. Ye Jingqiu could easily make out every subtle feature on Shi Zui’s face that was usually hidden.

Like how the bridge of the captain’s nose had a slight flat spot at the top that gleamed faintly, or how her ears were actually quite lovely, the lobes shaped like dewdrops on an early autumn morning. It reminded Ye Jingqiu of that rare flush on the captain’s cheeks when Little Cat had exposed her secrets.

The more she looked, the more fascinating it became. Ye Jingqiu stared blankly for a few seconds, then chided herself: See, I’ve spent too much time with the captain if I’m having thoughts this disrespectful.

Her gaze drifted downward as she prepared to stand and leave, but in that instant, just as she shifted her weight, she locked eyes with a pair of pitch-black irises.

Ye Jingqiu: “…?”

Shi Zui looked at her little teammate, who was practically pressed against her, and coughed dryly. Her voice was barely a whisper. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!”

Ye Jingqiu’s face flushed crimson in an instant. With the speed of lightning, she jerked backward—only for her head to smack against the low cave ceiling with a resounding bang that echoed louder than a rocket explosion.

Shi Zui: “…”

Looks like her little teammate’s IQ had dropped to the level of the first-generation Aether.

Ye Jingqiu hissed in pain, rubbing the back of her head. Before she could rub it twice, though, realization dawned. She instantly shoved aside her embarrassment and zipped back to Shi Zui’s side at breakneck speed. Her tone urgent, questions firing like bullets: “Captain, how are you feeling now? Is your head spinning? Does your back hurt? Is there any way to make the Rebirth Instinct kick in faster…?”

Shi Zui stifled a chuckle despite the pain. Her little teammate was the same as ever—full of vim and vigor, no injuries, no need for her to worry.

“I’m fine. My back just hurts a little,” Shi Zui said, striving not to betray any wince or gasp. Her words came out slow and deliberate. “Did a piece of shrapnel lodge in there?”

Ye Jingqiu nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes! Captain, I didn’t dare pull it out. I’m worried there might be massive bleeding, and even Regeneration might not save you.”

“It probably didn’t hit any organs or arteries, or I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.” Shi Zui exhaled slowly to ease the agony, then let out a soft chuckle.

“Captain… I can hear you even if you whisper. Are you still in a lot of pain?” Ye Jingqiu murmured, hating her own instinctive helplessness.

She could see the strain on Shi Zui’s face—the clear signs of endurance and weakness.

“…I’m fine.”

Shi Zui paused, utterly unprepared for her teammate to say that. She tilted her head up slightly, gazing into Ye Jingqiu’s dark pupils, feeling something in her heart give a gentle twang.

“Bamaw is full of plants. If there’s any hemostatic medicine or bandages, you can just pull it out,” Shi Zui said after a brief silence, changing the subject. Her voice softened involuntarily. “With some external help, Regeneration can heal it completely.”

Ye Jingqiu agreed and stoked the fire brighter. “Got it. Rest well, Captain. I’ll go scout our position.”

As she spoke, she reached up to peel off the cloth on Shi Zui’s forehead. Shi Zui tried to pull back but found she could barely move a muscle.

“You… what are you doing?” Shi Zui asked, feeling her teammate’s fingertips glide across her forehead as she fought the urge to flinch away.

Ye Jingqiu acted utterly natural, assuming the captain just wasn’t used to being cared for. Her tone was as gentle as if speaking to (what she mistook for) an eight-year-old Constance: “Captain, you’ve got a fever. I’m just swapping out the cloth before I go. Fevers are miserable—I’ll see if I can leave some ice here. Remember to cool yourself down, flip it if it gets uncomfortable. I’ll be back soon!”

She rattled off a long string of instructions, then looked up to find the captain staring at her with eyes that held a hint of accusation.

Had her tone been a bit too childish?

Ye Jingqiu smacked her lips, slapped the fresh cloth back onto the captain’s forehead, and even brazenly traced a little circle on it.

Shi Zui was too drained to refuse such care. Being touched on the forehead by her little teammate, she could only sigh faintly and express her protest with a quiet look.

A sick captain really was more obedient.

The thought brought Ye Jingqiu a joy she couldn’t quite put into words. She clapped her hands with a grin and stood, her expression turning serious as she eyed the increasingly gruesome wound on Shi Zui’s back. “Be careful on your own, Captain. Call me if anything comes up! I won’t go far.”

Shi Zui nodded. This time her voice was a touch louder, but still in her usual concise captain style: “You be careful too.”

Her teammate’s figure soon vanished into the distance. Shi Zui watched her back for a long moment before closing her eyes again, forcing herself to ignore the pain in her back.

Ye Jingqiu glanced back just in time to see the captain settling into peaceful sleep. Ignoring her inexplicably quickening heartbeat, she dashed off even faster.

The terrain here was rugged—towering mountains and winding streams everywhere. Ye Jingqiu climbed to a high vantage point and activated Night Vision Mode to survey the lay of the land, only to find the surroundings growing more and more familiar the longer she looked.

Had the wheel of fortune finally spun her way?

Ye Jingqiu tamped down the excitement surging in her heart and carefully scanned the surrounding terrain once more. Memories from earlier that day resurfaced, map data flashing past her eyes like fleeting shadows. With a slap to her thigh, Ye Jingqiu had a sudden epiphany!

This was the Project Y’s production site in Bamaw!