Chapter 239: Resolution Failed? Snow Empress Appears
Huo Yuhao's forehead slammed against the jagged rock. A dull, sickening thud echoed through the cavern.
He didn't stop.
A second strike. A third. A fourth. Every desperate impact carried his full weight. The skin across his brow split open, hot blood seeping out to stain the grayish-white stone with a stark, spreading crimson mark. His movements were frantic, driven by a manic terror that if he slowed down for even a fraction of a second, his courage would shatter.
The chains binding him had already been undone; his body was completely free of physical restraints. Yet, he remained on his knees, throwing himself at the ground again and again.
Standing near the back of the group, Long Aotian watched the display with deeply furrowed brows. His arms hung stiffly by his sides. His fingers curled into tight fists, relaxed, and then clenched again, the knuckles popping in the quiet air. Finally, he turned his head away in sheer revulsion.
"This man has discarded every ounce of dignity a man and a powerhouse should possess," Aotian muttered. His voice wasn't loud, but in the oppressive silence of the cavern, the contempt rang clear.
Across the bubbling hot spring, Du Busi stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His weathered face remained largely impassive, but the corners of his mouth pulled downward in a sharp sneer. He stared at Yuhao's trembling, bloodied back, remaining silent for a long moment before speaking.
"To utterly ruin himself for a woman," the Body Sect Master said, his tone dripping with an unnamable disappointment. "If that Wang Dong'er ordered him to die, would he throw himself off a cliff without a second thought?"
No one answered. Aotian kept his silence, and Liu Yuan remained completely still.
Sensing the heavy, suffocating atmosphere, the sentient immortal herbs cowered. The Delicate Fragrance Beautiful Silk Immortal shrank back into a narrow crevice between the rocks, its vibrant petals sealing tightly shut. On the opposite side, the Infernal Precious Apricot flattened its fiery-red leaves against the scorching earth, desperately trying to erase its own presence.
Yuhao was still kowtowing.
His frantic rhythm had begun to falter, not from a lack of will, but because his battered mortal vessel was failing him. Severe blood loss drained all color from his face, leaving it a ghastly, paper-white hue. The blisters covering his severe burns ruptured under the strain, oozing clear fluid down his neck. Crimson streaks painted his forehead, sliding down the bridge of his nose to drip onto the stones and the backs of his trembling hands.
Through cracked lips, he chanted a singular, broken mantra.
"I beg you... please help me. I beg you... please help me."
The words tore from his throat, raspy and ragged, sounding like a rusted bellows gasping for air.
Liu Yuan stood directly in front of him, looking down at the broken youth. The intense purple-gold radiance within his Double Pupils had dimmed, but a deep, calculating light still flickered in their depths. His handsome features betrayed no anger, no pity, and no impatience. There was only a faint, quiet complexity hidden beneath his calm exterior.
A rare flicker of conflict stirred in Yuan's chest. Watching Yuhao reduce himself to a groveling mess, unbidden memories of their very first encounter surfaced. He remembered the Star Dou Great Forest. A crackling campfire, the rich aroma of roasted fish, and a ragged but defiant youth sitting by the flames. Back then, despite his shabby clothes, Yuhao had possessed a fierce, unyielding light in his eyes. Yuan had extended an invitation to the Body Sect, promising a place where true talent was nurtured, where he would never be treated as trash.
Yuhao had refused. Yuan had respected that stubborn pride at the time.
But now? Looking at this pathetic, bleeding figure who could do nothing but mindlessly beg, Yuan couldn't pinpoint whether the heavy feeling in his gut was deep disappointment or something far colder. If Yuhao had just listened to him back then and gone to the Body Sect, perhaps things wouldn't have turned out like this? Perhaps he would still be that proud youth with fire in his eyes, instead of the hollow shell kneeling before him.
Yuan watched the pathetic display for a few seconds longer before speaking.
"Get up."
Yuhao didn't stop. He threw his upper body forward again, his skull colliding with the rock with another wet, muffled thud.
"I beg you... please help me."
Yuan's voice dropped an octave, carrying an absolute, bone-chilling authority. "I said, get up."
Yuhao's spine stiffened. He slowly lifted his head, his neck trembling under the effort. Fresh blood cascaded from his brow, blinding his left eye, but he made no move to wipe it away. His pale lips quivered, yet the relentless begging finally ceased.
Yuan stared down at him, his tone flat and utterly devoid of warmth. "I am helping you. But not because you begged me."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gruesome wound on Yuhao's chest and the ruined flesh of his forehead. "To be perfectly honest, I despise this spineless behavior of yours. No matter how many times you shatter your skull against the floor, I would never lift a finger for this pathetic version of you. I am only stepping in because Elder Yi spoke up on your behalf."
Yuhao's lips parted. He tried to force a word out, but his vocal cords refused to cooperate. His hollow gaze shifted past Yuan, landing on the faint, ethereal gray phantom hovering just behind the Body Sect successor.
Electrolux's spectral form was translucent, yet his dignified outline remained distinct. The ancient necromancer refused to meet Yuhao's eyes, turning his head slightly to the side, as if unable to bear the sight of his inheritor's degradation.
Seeing this, Yuhao lowered his head, sinking into absolute silence.
Dismissing the broken youth from his mind, Yuan turned his attention across the bubbling pool. "Teacher, please give it a try."
Du Busi dropped his arms and strode forward. His pace was unhurried, but every footfall carried the immense, grounding weight of a supreme powerhouse. He stopped at the edge of the hot spring, crouching down to inspect the Yearning Heartbroken Grass submerged within the boiling waters.
The dark-red leaves were completely encased in a bizarre, unyielding block of ice. The scalding spring water rushed over the frozen surface, sending thick plumes of steam into the air, yet the ice didn't shed a single drop of meltwater.
Extending his massive hand, Busi hovered his palm directly over the frozen immortal herb. A dense, emerald-green spirit power erupted from his skin. Instead of dispersing, the terrifying energy condensed into a razor-thin, hyper-focused pillar of light that perfectly enveloped the Yearning Heartbroken Grass.
Busi's spirit power was inherently venomous. Poison itself possessed no thawing properties, but the sheer, overwhelming energy density of a Level 98 extraordinary Douluo was a different matter entirely. Extreme heat could melt ice, and extreme energy density could forcefully simulate that exact kinetic friction. He wrapped the stubborn frost in his emerald aura, attempting to brutally shatter the frozen layer through pure, concentrated energy impact.
The ice trembled.
A microscopic fissure materialized on the smooth surface, spider-webbing from the edge of a frozen leaf down toward the stalk.
Yuhao's dead eyes suddenly flared with a desperate, frantic hope.
But the fissure stopped. It lingered on the crystalline surface for a fraction of a second before the edges smoothly knitted back together. It moved as if it were a living, breathing entity, rapidly healing its own wounds.
Busi's thick brows locked together. He doubled his spirit power output. The emerald pillar flared with blinding intensity, and the invisible pressure crushing the ice multiplied exponentially. High-pitched, agonizing screeches echoed from the frozen block, sounding like glass screaming under a hydraulic press.
Yet, it refused to melt.
The violent cracking sounds persisted for a few agonizing seconds before abruptly dying out. Dozens of new fractures webbed across the surface, but not a single one penetrated deep enough to let the boiling spring water seep inside. Within ten seconds, the living ice sealed itself shut once more, erasing all evidence of the extraordinary Douluo's assault.
Busi withdrew his hand, his aura retracting instantly. He stood up, his expression stoic, though his brow remained heavily creased.
"It's no use," he stated bluntly, his booming voice echoing off the cavern walls. "This isn't ordinary ice. It's laced with a foreign, highly resilient energy. My spirit power cannot penetrate the outer shell. If I force a heavier impact, the shockwave will completely pulverize the herb inside."
All color drained from Yuhao's face. It wasn't the physical pallor of blood loss this time, but a sickly, ashen gray born from absolute, suffocating despair. His shoulders slumped, his lips quivering uncontrollably as his body swayed, nearly collapsing sideways onto the hard stone.
"How can this be..." The whisper barely escaped his throat, fragile and hollow. "Even Sect Master Du... has no way..."
Yuan cast a sideways glance at the trembling youth, his voice perfectly level. "What's the rush? I still have other methods."
Turning his back on Yuhao, Yuan faced the boiling pool and slowly closed his eyes.
A pinpoint of light ignited at the center of his forehead. It wasn't the oppressive purple-gold of his Double Pupils, but a pristine, flawless white—a radiance utterly devoid of impurities. The brilliant light surged outward, cascading from his brow to weave a physical silhouette in the air before him.
From the heart of the blinding snow-light, the Snow Empress stepped into the mortal realm.
She wore a flowing dress of pure, woven frost, her waist-length hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of fresh snow. Her skin possessed a luminous, ethereal pallor—not the sickly white of the dying, but the flawless, crystalline luster of ancient glaciers. Her features were breathtakingly delicate, yet her expression was an abyss of absolute zero. It wasn't a forced, arrogant coldness, but the innate, bone-deep indifference of a sovereign who had ruled the frozen wastelands for hundreds of thousands of years.
Standing gracefully by the edge of the boiling spring, her icy blue eyes swept over the cavern. She glanced at the towering figure of Du Busi, shifted to the tense Long Aotian, and finally let her gaze fall upon the pathetic, bleeding form of Huo Yuhao. She lingered on the broken youth for a fleeting second before dismissing him entirely, turning her attention to the frozen Yearning Heartbroken Grass resting in the scalding water.
"Snow Empress," Yuan spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy steam, calm and clear. "You are the absolute sovereign of ice and snow. This frost is no ordinary element; it is fused with something deeply stubborn. Try your hand. Let us see if you can melt it."
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