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Chapter 68 Heal Your Eyes

"Yes." Qinglan replied stiffly and turned to walk towards the tribe.

Fuying followed behind him, crossing two snow-capped mountains before finally arriving at the Frost Plains tribe.

However, as Qinglan said, the Frost Plains tribe was already decaying. There was no laughter and joy like in ordinary tribes. Even before entering the tribe, one could feel its deathly silence and desolation.

Upon seeing Qinglan return, someone from the tribe quickly came out to greet her; she was a female.

"Prince Qinglan! You're finally back!"

The female stepped forward, wanting to hug Qinglan, but the latter stepped back slightly and glanced into the tribe.

"Brother Qinglan..." The female's eyes dimmed slightly, but she quickly rallied and asked, "Brother Qinglan, have you managed to summon the shaman?"

Fu Ying stared at her for a moment and recognized her too.

The woman before me is Jia, the snow leopard female who broke the original owner's defenses.

Fuying stepped past Qinglan and said, "I am Huahua, a shaman from the Cangshan tribe. Qinglan invited me to treat your plague."

Under the spell, Qinglan lost her self-awareness, and she had to be taught how to respond to anything.

In other words, he's just a numb idiot.

"Treatment, treatment??" Jia gasped, looking at Fuying in disbelief.

But soon his eyes dimmed further, and he bowed to Fuying, saying politely, "Thank you, shaman, but the plague is incurable, and we have already given up. We invited you here to preside over the sacrificial ceremony."

Fu Ying said impatiently, "I said I'd treat you, so I'll treat you! Stop talking nonsense! Go inside!"

After saying that, she took the lead and stepped into the Frost Plains tribe.

The plague is indeed incurable in the orc continent, but she's a cheat code, so how could she not solve it?

The original owner committed many sins, so she cleaned up the mess. Haha.

“Witch…” Jia was stunned for a moment, glanced at Qinglan, and hurriedly followed her inside.

Upon entering the Frost Plains tribe, Fu Ying asked a few questions and discovered that the current situation was much better than she had expected.

After contracting the plague, more than ten people died or were injured in the Frost Plains tribe. Although the remaining orcs had varying degrees of symptoms and were waiting to die, their numbers were still considerable. If they could be cured, the Frost Plains tribe would still have hope of reviving.

"Witch, how is it?" Jia stayed close to Fuying, looking a little nervous.

Although I know the disease is incurable, I can't help but feel a little hope.

“It can be cured.” Fu Ying nodded and pondered, “However, I don’t have any medicinal herbs on hand, so I have to go find some. I will first use an array to purify the plague virus in the Frost Plains tribe to prevent the disease from spreading further.”

"A formation? A formation?" Jia looked bewildered, but seeing Fu Ying's calm and composed demeanor, she felt a surge of joy and nodded emphatically, saying gratefully, "Thank you, Wu! Thank you!"

Fu Ying shook her head and turned to look at the stoic Qing Lan: "Come with me."

Qinglan didn't respond, but slowly followed behind Fuying. Jia was a little puzzled, but didn't think much of it. Her heart was set on the tribe. If the epidemic could really be cured, that would be wonderful.

Fu Ying flipped his wrist, took out a bag of spirit stones, handed it to Qing Lan, and commanded without any politeness: "Go, bury them around the Frost Plains tribe. Remember, bury them evenly."

Qinglan nodded, and as he turned around, he silently knelt on one knee, his fingertips digging into the frozen soil beneath the frost and snow, digging a hole and throwing in spirit stones. Faint blue runes flickered on his forehead, and his movements were stiff.

Qinglan was so obedient and compliant that Fuying found her much more agreeable.

After he finished burying the spirit stones, Fu Ying bit his finger and used his blood to draw array patterns in the void. Once finished, he flicked his finger, and the complex array patterns spread out from mid-air, covering the entire Frost Plains tribe.

The "Purifying Spirit Array" can release pure spiritual energy and eliminate pathogenic factors.

However, the disease is damaging the body and spiritual energy alone cannot cure it. It also needs to be supplemented with "Plague-Clearing Pills" to neutralize the toxins of the disease. However, she does not have such pills on hand at the moment and can only temporarily stabilize the disease. Otherwise, if it continues to spread, she will have to go out and find medicinal herbs again.

Jia watched Fuying busily working and felt a little nervous.

The instant the formation took effect, the sick tribespeople who had fallen into a coma awoke. Jia excitedly covered her mouth, trembling all over: "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 array had drained his energy.

"Witch, the people have woken up! It really worked!" Jia rushed towards Fuying, her voice excited and thrilled. However, when she reached Fuying, she noticed that Fuying's complexion was not good and hurriedly asked, "Witch, what's wrong?"

Fu Ying shook his head: "The epidemic is difficult to treat, and it took some effort."

"Witch... thank you." Jia looked at Fuying's pale face, filled with guilt. She knelt down with a thud and kowtowed to Fuying, her forehead hitting the frozen ground with a dull thud.

Ga's chapped lips moved slightly: "On behalf of the entire Frost Plains tribe, I am grateful for your grace."

Fu Ying's expression froze, and he said solemnly, "Get up. I'm going to find medicine. The tribespeople's illnesses will be temporarily suppressed and won't worsen. Don't do any more sacrifices. We'll talk about everything when I get back."

Jia nodded emphatically: "Don't worry, Wu, I know!"

Now that the tribe has been saved, why would they take that final step?
As the two were talking, Qinglan stood to the side, motionless, with her head down.

Jia turned to look at him, hesitatingly asking, "Wu, is Prince Qinglan... is he ill?"

Fu Ying glanced at Qing Lan, too lazy to explain, and said unhurriedly, "Probably, losing his eyes might affect his brain. I'm not familiar with the area around the snow mountain, so I'll have Qing Lan come with me to find medicine."

Gane nodded and watched Fuying and Qinglan leave.

*
After leaving the tribe, Fuying broke Qinglan's spell.

His body suddenly stiffened, and after a moment, he arched his back, his hands with bulging veins tightly covering his head, a painful sound escaping his throat, gasping for breath, his back heaving violently.

"Qinglan, I am not Fuying, I am just a lonely soul who accidentally occupied this body."

“You should know very well that Fuying is not a witch.”

“The real Fuying is dead. I took over her mess. There’s nothing I can do but correct it one by one. You don’t need to transfer your hatred for her onto me.”

"You need to understand, I'm helping you right now!"

Fu Ying looked down at Qing Lan, who was trembling, squatted down, and offered a few words of earnest advice.

She couldn't keep Qinglan trapped with the bewitching spell forever. Since he could see through her identity, she had to find another way. What she said was the truth!

Qinglan's chest heaved violently as she breathed heavily, cold sweat dripping down her taut jawline.

He suddenly chuckled, his canine teeth, bitten through his thin lips, stained with blood, gleaming coldly in the twilight.

“How ironic…” He raised his head, his forehead damp with sweat, a cold smile playing on his delicate features: “The great Beast God actually gave salvation… to someone like you.”

Fu Ying stared at Qing Lan expressionlessly.

The sarcasm on his face remained unchanged, as if her explanation was nothing more than a clumsy joke.

She knew no one would believe her. Without comforting these hurt male protagonists, her rash statement that she wasn't Fuying would only be seen as a ridiculous excuse to escape reality.

Fu Ying, with a cold expression, drew the bone knife from his waist.

Suddenly, a flash of cold light appeared, and a strand of hair drifted down onto Qinglan's mud-covered hand. The tribal totem on it had stopped decaying and was even radiating coolness, as if it were recovering.

"I swear by the Beast God, I have no ill intentions, I only want to help you heal the Frost Plains tribe."

"Heal your eyes."

Qinglan's fingertips gripped the frozen earth tightly, and the strands of hair falling on the back of her hand seemed to weigh a ton.

Orcs value oaths and sever their hair as a curse, an ancient promise of the orcish continent.

(End of this chapter)