189: Drink it.

Before nightfall, all the Fox Tribe members who could still move were gathered around the altar.

Over three hundred people, young and old alike, were gaunt and haggard, yet their eyes burned with a final glimmer of hope.

They sat or knelt, silently watching the center of the altar—where a simple wooden platform had been erected. Bai Yao stood on the platform, a row of clean stone bowls beside her.

Elder Cang Mu stood by her side, holding an ancient silver knife passed down through the Fox Tribe, its blade engraved with intricate moon patterns.

"Divine Maiden,"

Cang Mu's voice trembled. "Are you sure you want to do this? Taking blood from the heart... it will damage your very foundation!"

Bai Yao was pale, but she stood tall and straight.

She had changed into a plain white sacrificial robe, her long hair simply tied up with a wooden hairpin, revealing her sharp jawline.

"The curse has seeped deep into the blood; ordinary blood is useless."

Her voice was soft, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"Only heart's blood, which contains the essence of life, can achieve a complete purification."

This was only half-true. The reality was that after feeding her blood to Xing Che, she found that blood from her fingertips could only alleviate the symptoms. To truly eradicate the curse, a more fundamental power was required.

As a transmigrator, her soul had not yet fully fused with this body, and her heart's blood contained a special energy born from the collision of the laws of two different worlds.

It was something that even the "beast god's curse" could not completely corrode.

This was the only solution she had deduced after combining modern biology with the spiritual power theories of the Beast World.

"But—"

"There are no buts."

Bai Yao interrupted Cang Mu and took the bone knife.

The blade was ice-cold; the moment she touched it, she trembled slightly.

She looked down from the platform. Those once-vibrant faces were now wasted away, tormented by illness.

A small Fox Tribe girl, about seven or eight years old, clung tightly to her mother's leg, her large eyes filled with fear.

An old woman curled up in a corner, faint purple markings appearing on her arm—a precursor to the curse's recurrence.

Bai Yao closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the last trace of hesitation had vanished.

She unfastened her robe, revealing the spot over her heart on the left side of her chest.

The moment the bone knife touched her skin, the bone-chilling cold made her shiver.

"With my blood as the guide,"

She chanted softly, reciting the Fox Tribe prayer Xing Che had once taught her, "Purify your bloodlines, break the Moon God's curse."

The tip of the knife pierced through.

There wasn't the intense pain she had imagined, only a cold, eroding sensation, as if countless tiny ice needles were boring into her heart through the wound.

Bai Yao gritted her teeth, her wrist terrifyingly steady as she precisely controlled the depth—not too deep to damage her heart, but not too shallow to miss the true heart's blood.

Bright red droplets of blood welled up and dripped into the prepared stone bowl.

The moment the first drop hit the bottom of the bowl, a faint golden halo rippled out.

A second drop, a third... the droplets joined into a thin stream, and the stone bowl was soon nearly half full.

Bai Yao's face turned pale at a visible rate, cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and the hand holding the knife began to tremble.

But she didn't stop.

Once the bowl was full, Cang Mu took it with trembling hands, and tribe members immediately carried it off to distribute. Each person only needed to drink a small sip, mixed with a special medicinal soup.

Bai Yao moved on to the second bowl.

The process of drawing heart's blood was extremely taxing. She could feel her life force draining away with the blood; her vision began to darken, and her ears buzzed.

But only one thought remained in her mind: she couldn't stop, there were still so many people waiting.

The third bowl, the fourth... By the time the seventh stone bowl was full, Bai Yao finally couldn't hold on any longer. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto one knee on the wooden platform.

The bone knife fell to the ground with a clang. She propped herself up on the platform, gasping for air, the intense pain from her chest nearly making her faint.

"Divine Maiden, that's enough!"

Tears streamed down Cang Mu's aged face as he tried to help her up.

Bai Yao shook her head, her voice so weak it was almost inaudible. "Still... one last bowl."

That one was for Xing Che.

His curse was the deepest; he needed the purest heart's blood.

Gritting her teeth, she picked up the bone knife again.

As the tip of the knife touched her heart again, a withered hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Bai Yao looked up and met Xing Che's eyes, which had opened at some point.

He had actually forced himself to come to the altar.

Two tribe members were supporting him. He was so thin it seemed a gust of wind could knock him over, but in those dull eyes, a light bordering on despair was burning.

"Enough."

Xing Che's voice was hoarse and broken. "Bai Yao... you'll die..."

"I won't."

Bai Yao forced a pale smile. "Xing Che, you taught me that fate can be changed."

"But I didn't teach you... to change it with your life."

Xing Che coughed violently, the blood he spat out containing black, fleecy matter. "Do you know... what I saw when I performed the deduction back then?"

Bai Yao froze.

Xing Che stared intently at her, each word sounding as if it took all his strength:

"I saw you standing here, taking heart's blood... then the Moon God's wrath... lightning punishment falling from the heavens... and you... reduced to ashes..."

These words were like a heavy blow, leaving Bai Yao's mind blank.

So he had seen it all along.

He had seen her choice today, and her possible end.

That was why he pushed her away; why he would rather bear everything alone than have her involved.

"But you still came."

There was a sob in Xing Che's voice. In those fox-like eyes that were always calm and self-possessed, a bottomless pain now surged.

"I calculated every possibility... but the only thing I didn't account for... was that you would charge in regardless of the cost..."

Bai Yao looked at him, at this High Priest who had been proud his whole life, now breaking down before her like a child.

After a long while, she gently pulled her hand from his grasp, and the tip of the knife touched her heart once more.

"Xing Che,"

Her voice was soft but firm. "What you calculated was a possibility, not an inevitability."

The knife tip pierced in.

The pain this time far exceeded before, as if her very soul was being torn apart.

But Bai Yao didn't stop. She watched the droplets of blood fall into the last stone bowl, seeing that this bowl of blood seemed to glow even brighter than the others. A faint smile actually touched the corners of her mouth.

"Look,"

She said weakly, "In your prophecy, was it like this?"

Xing Che stared blankly at the bowl of blood, then at the woman before him who was clearly weak to the extreme yet still held her back straight. A certain barrier in his heart came crashing down.

The final drop of blood fell into the bowl.

Bai Yao's vision went completely dark, and her body slumped backward.

The expected pain didn't come; instead, she fell into an embrace.

Xing Che, from some unknown source of strength, broke free from the support of the tribe members and caught her the moment she fell.

"Bai Yao... Bai Yao..." His voice was trembling.

Bai Yao forced her eyes open and saw her own face reflected in Xing Che's dull pupils. She also saw the deeply hidden emotion in his eyes that could no longer be concealed.

She smiled and, with the last of her strength, pushed the stone bowl filled with heart's blood toward him.

"Drink it... and then... live on..."

Before her voice could fade, she lost consciousness completely.