255: Fifth Incarnation: Heavenly Physician (47)

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, only five years remained before the end of the Small World.

A Niu, once high-spirited, now lay on a simple sickbed. Blood-stained linen was wrapped around his chest; his face was sallow, and his breath was weak.

In an ambush against Wang Yi several months ago, he had been besieged by elite death soldiers under Wang Yi's command who were suspected of using secret medicine. Although he fought hard and killed the enemy leader, he was also severely wounded, damaging his Foundation.

Xiao Qi's memorial tablet was placed quietly in the corner of the military tent.

While escorting important craftsmen during a transfer, he encountered an attack by mountain bandits who were actually experts under Duke Jinghai of Jiangnan in disguise. To cover the others, he fought to the death, leaving no remains.

Aunt Zhang had fallen during a plague that swept through the main camp last year. Although Xu Yuan had done his best to save her life, her body had collapsed. She coughed every day, looking haggard and emaciated, no longer able to run about and shout to rally people as she used to.

Mr. Wen's hair had turned completely white. He worked day and night, mediating internal conflicts, rectifying military discipline, and arranging food and fodder, leaving him mentally and physically exhausted.

The core team was teetering in the wind and rain.

Outside the tent, the seemingly vast territory controlled by the Yellow Turban Army was already riddled with holes.

The elite veterans had suffered heavy losses in years of grueling combat against the barbarians, Wang Yi, and the Imperial Court's elite.

The granaries were increasingly empty, and production in the rear had nearly come to a standstill because a large number of young men had joined the army.

The leaders of various newly joined forces were outwardly compliant but inwardly disobedient, each harboring their own schemes.

The radicals clamored to "strike out, seize grain, and take territory," while the moderates worried that "if we don't contract now, internal chaos will surely arise."

And external pressure had reached its limit.

The main force of 300,000 barbarians, aided by some intelligence and logistical "conveniences" secretly provided by participants like Wang Yi, no longer engaged in scattered looting. Instead, they were like a giant iron hammer, slowly but firmly striking the northern defense line of the Heluo Region.

The Imperial Court issued the "Yellow Turban Extermination Order," which shook the world, and rarely granted Wang Yi the authority of "Governor-General of All Military Forces for Suppressing Rebellion." The remaining tens of thousands of Central Imperial Guards and Border Army troops that could still be mobilized were handed over to Wang Yi's unified command, forming a pincer attack from north and south and an encirclement from east and west with the barbarians.

The whole world was shocked.

This was a situation of "internal and external collusion" never before seen since the founding of the Great Xuan Dynasty.

The barbarians and the Imperial Court, these Mortal enemies, actually formed a strange tacit understanding under the banner of "Exterminating the Yellows."

The Yellow Turban Army had fallen into a true ambush from all sides, a situation of certain death.

In the central command tent, the candlelight flickered.

Xu Yuan stood alone before a massive map of mountains and rivers. His back was straight, yet it exuded an indescribable loneliness.

He closed his eyes, not to rest, but to sink his mind into his Transcendent "Karmic Network Sensing."

In an instant, what he "saw" was no longer a local battlefield, but a magnificent, chaotic, and collapsing "Network of Karma and Luck" centered on the Heluo Region and radiating across most of the Great Xuan territory.

The main body of the "network" representing the Great Xuan Imperial Court had long since lost its luster and was broken into pieces, like a high-rise building hollowed out by termites, maintaining its outline only by inertia.

However, at the very core of this broken network—The Capital—there was still a trace of extremely faint yet exceptionally resilient "Purple-Gold Dragon Qi" clinging stubbornly, like the final soul of a centipede that refuses to die even after being crushed.

This trace of Dragon Qi was not a physical entity. Instead, it was a combination of concepts like "Imperial Legitimacy," "Loyalty to the Sovereign," and "Mandate of Heaven" that had been repeatedly imprinted in the minds of hundreds of millions of people over centuries, resonating with the specific mountain and river veins of this land. It was a fusion of a collective consciousness anchor point and a node for the Spiritual Qi of the earth's veins.

Or rather—National Fortune!

It was already extremely weak, but it had not yet been completely severed.

It was precisely this lingering Dragon Qi, like a decaying but unremoved "cancerous core," that was still invisibly absorbing the remaining "loyalty" obsessions in the world, providing the last bit of "legal" nourishment for the old order and obstructing the complete reshaping and stabilization of the new "Karmic Network."

As long as it remained, the "legitimacy" of Great Xuan would not end. Many forces could still use this tattered banner, and many commoners would still harbor a trace of habitual expectation or fear toward the "Old Dynasty."

Meanwhile, the "Luck Networks" of the barbarians, Wang Yi, Duke Jinghai, and other forces were either like dark clouds pressing down on the city or like tangled poisonous vines, frantically eroding and tearing at the fledgling, crack-filled "Bright Network" of the Yellow Turban Army, while also colliding with and devouring each other.

The Yellow Turban Army's network was on the brink of collapse.

"The core of the old network has not been removed; it absorbs resentment and breeds turmoil. The Foundation of the new network is unstable; with internal troubles and external threats, it is on the verge of disintegration."

Xu Yuan opened his eyes, a cold determination in his gaze.

He realized that continuing to entangle on the military level and conducting mild reforms and balancing internally was already a dead end.

Time was not on his side.

The Yellow Turban Army would not wait for the day when internal purification was complete and the new order was stabilized; it would be completely crushed by external forces.

More importantly, the Minor Derivation Dharma Assembly was about to end.

"Such a stalemate is no longer beneficial for my deduction of the new Dao. It seems I must be a bit more radical."

He had to take a risk!

The decision was made; there was no more hesitation.

Xu Yuan knew well that in a Spiritless World, forcibly channeling Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi—even a tiny bit—was like forcibly digging a spring in a dried-up riverbed. It would inevitably trigger the most violent backlash from the Laws of the entire Small World.

At best, his Divine Soul would be damaged, and he would be expelled from this world prematurely, causing his years of planning to come to naught. At worst, it would damage his Dao Foundation's Origin, requiring a vast amount of time and Heaven And Earth Treasures to recover.

"Is it worth gambling my path in reality for a battle in an illusory game?"

"What benefit does severing the Dragon Qi of this illusory Dynasty bring to the real world?"

But Xu Yuan's gaze was incredibly clear, even carrying a hint of relieved fervor.

"It is worth it."

He whispered to himself, the answer as clear as a mirror.

"I entered this world not to compete for victory, not for points, and not to prove anything to anyone."

"I am here to verify the Dao in my heart—those vague conjectures about order, the human heart, and Karma."

"Now, the old network is about to collapse but hasn't yet, and the new network is about to be established but isn't yet. This is the perfect opportunity to observe how the substance of 'Luck' is overturned by the 'torrent of human hearts' and how the 'Mandate of Heaven' is severed by the 'will of Mortals'!"

"If I am constrained by victory or defeat, if I fear backlash, if I dare not strike the most ultimate blow on this final stage... my Dao will ultimately end in fantasy, trapped in a study."

"Backlash? Costs? They are but the 'medicinal catalysts' and 'tuition' on my path to seeking the Dao."

Of course, more importantly, Xu Yuan had a safety net.

Even if he died in this life, so what?

The knowledge remained; the memory remained!

He pushed open the tent door; the cold wind was piercing.

There were no stars in the night sky, and dark clouds hung low, as if foretelling the coming upheaval.

Xu Yuan's actions were as fast as thunder.

He no longer hid his intentions and gathered the remaining few hundred most loyal brothers of the Way of Great Peace—most of them came from the original Rat Alley. Having gone through plagues, famines, and bloody battles, their beliefs were already ingrained in their bones.

"Everyone," Xu Yuan's voice was calm but carried the weight of a mountain, "The Yellow Turban Army and the Way of Great Peace have reached the moment of life and death. Powerful enemies surround us, and internal undercurrents surge. Conventional methods can no longer turn the tide."

His gaze swept across the faces, some weathered, some young, but all equally resolute.

"I am going to make a risky move, a surprising move."

"If this move succeeds, the Great Xuan's National Fortune shall end, the old heaven will fall, and the new world of our ideals may have a real chance of becoming a reality."