socalfunplaces Chapter 373 They Can't Hold On Anymore
Chapter 373 They Can't Hold On Anymore
Chapter 373 They Can't Hold On Anymore
It wasn't out of fear. It was because when Chi Quan stood up, his blood flowed from his thigh to the ground, forming a small, red stream that flowed downhill. That stream didn't merge into the blood-soaked pool at Helian's feet; instead, it bypassed Helian and flowed eastward into the basin.
Chi Quan's blood refused to be assimilated by Helian's Yan Shui.
That wasn't the ability to generate water, nor the ability to liquefy. That was something inherent in blood itself. It was the body's instinct. It was Chi Quan's body saying—no.
Helian looked at the stream of blood, his expression shifting from surprise to something he was unwilling to admit.
He was scared.
It wasn't because Chi Quan's knife was fast, nor because Chi Quan was fearless. It was because Chi Quan's body was rejecting him, while his body craved Chi Quan's blood. This was a case of the hunter being rejected by the prey, and the prey actively choosing its own way of dying.
"You're insane." Helian said the same thing as before, but with a completely different meaning. Before, when he said "you're insane," he was admiring Chi Quan's ruthlessness. Now, when he said "you're insane," he was terrified of Chi Quan's decisiveness.
Chi Quan ignored him.
He switched the knife from his right hand to his left. The wound on the web of his right hand was too deep, making it difficult to grip the knife steadily. The wound on his left palm was still there, but the metacarpal bone hadn't been severed, so he could still grip it. He held the knife hilt with his left hand, the tip pointing downwards, horizontally in front of him.
The tide continued to ebb. Chi Quan's mouth was completely dry, his tongue clinging to the bottom like a piece of dead flesh. His vision went from blurry to double vision, then to a grayish-white. Not the grayish-white of dust and fog, but the grayish-white of before he went blind.
He could no longer see Helian.
He could only hear Helian's breathing. Not heavy, but rapid. Helian's left chest wound, also bleeding profusely, had not stopped, and the front of his greyish-white robe was completely red.
Chi Quan closed his eyes. Whether they were closed or not made no difference; he couldn't see anymore anyway.
He listened to Helian's breathing and judged the distance. Three steps. No, two and a half steps. Helian was approaching.
Helian is approaching.
Because he couldn't wait any longer. The Tidefall Formation had a time limit; the chakra of the twelve people wouldn't last long. If he couldn't absorb Chi Quan's blood before the formation broke, all his plans for this lifetime would be in vain. He had to get close to Chi Quan, stab him in the body with his gray-white blade, and let the water on the blade directly contact Chi Quan's blood, forcibly drawing it out.
Chi Quan is waiting.
Helian's footsteps grew closer.
Two steps.
One and a half steps.
step.
Chi Quan heard the sound of a gray-white blade cutting through the air. It wasn't aimed at his chest, but at his neck. Helian was going to decapitate him with one stroke, then catch the head the instant it hit the ground and drain blood from the carotid artery.
The pool and spring were not blocked.
He took half a step forward.
A gray-white blade swept past his head, shaving off a section of hair. Chi Quan stood close to Helian, less than a fist's distance between them. Chi Quan's left hand gripped the blade, the tip pressed against Helian's abdomen.
Helian's eyes widened.
Chi Quan exerted force with his left hand.
The knife went in.
It wasn't a stab, it was a push. The blade went into Helian's abdomen and came out from his lower back. Chi Quan gripped the hilt with his left hand and pressed his right hand against the end of the hilt. With both hands working together, he pushed the entire blade into Helian's body until it pressed against Helian's abdominal muscles.
Helian opened his mouth, as if to say something. Blood gushed from his mouth, silencing his words.
The gray-white knife slipped from Helian's hand and fell to the ground with a dull thud.
Chi Quan did not draw his sword.
He loosened his grip on the hilt of the sword, grabbed Helian's shoulders with both hands, and pushed him backward. Helian's body was pinned to the sword; he stumbled back two steps, crashed into a large rock that had rolled down the mountainside, and leaned there, unable to move any further.
Chi Quan took a step back, his legs went weak, and he knelt down again.
He knelt before Helian, face down, gasping for breath. The lingering toxins in his lungs, combined with dehydration, made each breath feel like inhaling shattered glass. He coughed twice, but what came out wasn't phlegm, but dried froth streaked with blood.
Helian leaned against a large rock, the hilt of the knife in his abdomen bobbing up and down with his breath. He looked down at the knife embedded in his body and suddenly laughed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin onto his gray robe.
"This knife—it was left to you by your mother." Helian's voice was broken, like a thread about to snap. "I'll help you—return it to her—"
Chi Quan raised his head.
He couldn't see Helian's face, but he heard Helian's last words.
"She has loved you for eighteen years."
Helian tilted his head to one side.
The breathing stopped.
The ebb tide formation began to disintegrate ten seconds after Helian's death. Chi Quan could feel the force drawing water out of his body weakening, first slowly, then faster and faster, like the receding tide. The remaining water in Shui Yi's body began to return to where it belonged. Not much, but enough to stop him from dehydrating further.
His vision didn't recover immediately. Everything before him was still grayish-white, but he could see light—not the glaring kind, but the orange-red light of dusk, shining from the west. The dust and fog dissipated after the tide receded, scattered by the wind, revealing a corner of the sky over the basin, with the setting sun hanging on the mountain ridge like a half-closed eye.
Chi Quan knelt on the muddy ground, his hands resting on his knees, his head bowed.
His knife was inside Helian's body.
He didn't pull it out.
Footsteps approached in the distance. Many people.
Chi Quan heard it, but didn't look up.
The footsteps grew closer and more chaotic, and someone was calling his name. He recognized one of the voices as Ya. Ya's voice came from the east, urgent and fierce, with a sobbing tone.
"Chi Quan! Chi Quan, where the hell are you?! Answer the fuck!"
Then came Akamaru's cries. Akamaru cried out urgently, one after another, as if urging someone to hurry up.
Then came Shikamaru's voice. Not loud, but very clear.
"Shut up. I can hear breathing. He's over there."
Footsteps rushed toward him.
Chi Quan felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and firm—it was Ya's hand. Ya squatted down in front of him, grabbing his face with her other hand and lifting his head up.
"What happened to your eyes?" Ya's voice trembled.
Chi Quan blinked. His vision was slowly returning; the grayness faded, leaving behind blurry patches of color. Ya's face was flesh-colored, his hair was dark, the sunset was orange-red, and the knife was black.
"I can see it," Chi Quan said, his voice hoarse and unlike his own.
"You can't see anything! Your pupils are dilated!"
Shikamaru's voice came from behind Kiba.
"Teeth, get out of the way."
Kiba didn't give in. Shikamaru didn't urge him any further. He walked to Ikezumi's side, squatted down, and looked at Ikezumi's left hand—the wound in his palm, pierced by the gray-white blade, was still oozing blood, revealing the white bone underneath. His right hand was split open at the base of his thumb, the knife he had stabbed himself in the thigh was still bleeding, and the wound on his abdomen had completely reopened, the bandage soaked in blood, hanging like a red rag around his waist.
Shikamaru watched for a long time.
Then he stood up and said something to the people who followed him.
"Stretcher. Tourniquet. Intravenous infusion. Quickly."
Firegate ran off to find the medic.
Kiba was still squatting in front of Ikezumi, unsure of what to do with his hands, wanting to help him but afraid of touching his wound. Akamaru circled around Ikezumi's legs, his tail drooping, occasionally nudging Ikezumi's hand with his nose.
Chi Quan raised his right hand and patted Akamaru's head.
Akamaru cried out, his voice small and shrill, like he was crying.
Chi Quan's lips twitched slightly.
"Don't shout," he said. "It's alright."
Ya punched Chi Quan in the uninjured right shoulder.
"Say it again and it's okay?"
Chi Quan was jolted by the impact and almost fell over. Ya panicked immediately and reached out with both hands to support him, firmly holding him up.
"I didn't mean to—" Ya's voice went from fierce to panicked, then from panicked to hoarse, "You fucking—you always do this—doesn't it hurt—"
Chi Quan leaned on his shoulder without saying a word.
Shikamaru stood to the side, looking at the wounds on Ikezumi's body—new wounds and old wounds, knife wounds and stab wounds, injuries inflicted by others and self-inflicted, layer upon layer, like a piece of paper covered with writing. He watched the blood seep from under the bandages, dripping onto the ground, mixing with the mud, making it impossible to distinguish the colors.
He turned his head and glanced at Helian's corpse.
Helian leaned against a large rock, the hilt of his sword gleaming darkly in the setting sun. His face was turned westward, his eyes half-closed, a faint smile still lingering on his lips, as if he were having a very long dream.
Shikamaru looked at it for two seconds, then turned back.
"tooth."
"what?"
"Help him up. The medic has arrived."
19
When the medic ran over, Chi Quan was already unable to stand. It wasn't that he didn't want to stand, but the muscles in his legs were too weak from overuse and severe dehydration to obey him. Ya couldn't support him alone, so Huo Men supported his right arm from the other side, and the two of them lifted him off the ground and placed him on a stretcher.
As Chi Quan lay down on the stretcher, he suddenly raised his right hand and stretched it towards Helian's corpse.
Ya followed his hand and looked over.
"knife."
Chi Quan's hand fell down.
"We'll get it tomorrow," Shikamaru said. "It's not going to run away."
Chi Quan lay on a stretcher, carried eastward by two men. His eyes were half-open, gazing at the sky above the basin.
The sunset changed from orange-red to deep purple, and stars began to appear on the horizon—one, two, three, and more and more, like countless tiny holes poked in a black cloth.
The basin floor receded slowly beneath the stretcher. The bottom of the basin, filled with earth and rocks, resembled a vast, silent graveyard. No one spoke. The stretcher bearers moved with light steps, careful not to disturb Chi Quan's wounds. The person in front cleared a path for the stretcher by parting the bushes and weeds.
Chi Quan suddenly spoke.
"Shikamaru".
Shikamaru walked beside the stretcher and turned his head to look at him.
"Um.
""
"It's still burning inside the basin."
Shikamaru paused for a moment.
"The Allied forces are already digging. They're coming in from the west. We don't care. Those are their men."
Chi Quan closed his eyes for a while.
How many people?
"I don't know," Shikamaru said. "We'll find out after we've finished cleaning."
Chi Quan didn't ask any more questions.
The stretcher moved slowly along the gravel and muddy road. The eastern entrance to the basin drew closer, and the woods beyond could be seen. A few lamps were lit in the woods, their light flickering in the night like fireflies.
Chi Quan closed his eyes.
He heard the sound of the wind. Not the dry wind that blows from the basin, carrying the smell of dust and blood, but a cool wind blowing from the east, passing through the woods, carrying the scent of pine needles and damp earth.
The wind blew on his face, drying the sweat from his forehead, the blood from his cheeks, and the dust from his eyelashes.
It was like he had a very long dream, and finally woke up.
The west entrance of the basin.
Luo Sha stood on the pile of earth and rocks, looking at everything before him.
His deputy commander kept talking behind him, saying that the earthen tunnels to the east were too deep to dig, that there weren't enough medical tents, that there were too many wounded and not enough medicine, and that more than two hundred of the eight thousand men in the rear army had been trampled to death during the retreat. Luo Sha didn't hear a word he said.
He looked at the bodies dug out of the pile of earth and rocks, laid on the muddy ground, covered with tattered rags. Some were moving, some were still. Few were moving, many were still.
A young Chunin from the Land of Lightning was pulled alive from a pile of rubble. His lower body was pinned down by a large rock that couldn't be moved. His companions surrounded him, unsure what to do. The young Chunin looked at his leg, then at his companions' faces, smiled, and said something. Rasa didn't hear what he said. Then, the young Chunin pulled out his kunai and plunged it into his throat.
His companions stood there, motionless, like a group of stones.
Luo Sha climbed down from the pile of earth and rocks, stepped onto a loose stone, slipped, and fell. The deputy commander came to help him, but he shook off the commander's hand, sat on the ground, and didn't get up.
The news of the allied forces' crushing defeat reached the three major powers on the seventh day.
In the Battle of the Rain Rift Basin, 23,000 men were killed or went missing, and countless others were wounded. Rasa, the commander-in-chief of the western front of the Land of Lightning, submitted his resignation the day after the battle and left the camp without waiting for approval. The remnants of the Land of Earth and the Land of Wind gathered outside the western entrance of the basin for three days, finding fewer than 8,000 men still capable of fighting, a third of whom were wounded.
When the news reached Konoha, Shikamaru was writing a post-war report in the Hokage Building. Tsunade finished reading the intelligence, placed the paper on the table, and remained silent for a long time.
"They can't hold on any longer," she said.
Shikamaru put down his pen.
When will the peace talks begin?
"If things go quickly, three days." Tsunade leaned back in her chair, lit a cigarette, and said, "If things go slowly, five days. They're still arguing—who should be held responsible for this defeat, who should step in for peace talks, who should sign the treaty. Three countries together, they drag out the fighting, but they're certainly energetic when they start arguing."
Three days later, the allied envoys arrived.
The person who arrived was not Rasa, but a middle-aged man whom Shikamaru did not recognize. He was short and thin, wearing a headband from the Land of Lightning, a faded gray kimono, and carrying a bamboo cane. He walked slowly, tapping the ground with the cane.
He was followed by two people, a female ninja from the Land of Wind and a male ninja from the Land of Earth. The three of them were stopped by the Anbu at the gates of Konoha, searched, had their weapons surrendered, and were taken to the Hokage Building.