Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 373: Treating Lucas

One after another, the soldiers, cultivators, and supply caravans moved forward through the boundary abyss, and for the first time in living memory there was no panic, no screams, and no sudden loss of life swallowed by the darkness beneath their feet. The ice belle’s domain enveloped everything in sight, stretching endlessly from one end of the abyss to the other like a frozen corridor carved by a sovereign will. The blackened ground that once reeked of decay and despair was now sealed beneath layers of pristine frost, and the corrupted air that had choked even seasoned warriors was replaced by a cool, stabilizing presence that soothed both body and mind.

The soldiers walked in silence at first, many of them subconsciously holding their breath as if expecting the abyss to retaliate at any moment, but as step after step passed without incident, murmurs of disbelief began to spread through the ranks.

They slowed their pace just to take in the sight, watching how the frost reacted gently to their footsteps, how the abyss itself seemed restrained and subdued, as though it had acknowledged a superior ruler and withdrawn its malice.

Elder Gideon walked close to the carrier bearing Lucas, his gaze shifting constantly between his unconscious son and the endless frozen path ahead. He could feel it even without sensing techniques, the overwhelming purity and authority saturating the domain, and he understood then that this was not a temporary measure born of desperation. This was a declaration of dominance that would not fade easily. He murmured under his breath that such a passage would change the balance of power in the north forever, not just for this war but for generations to come.

Henrietta rode alongside the carrier, her expression calm yet deeply contemplative. She knew how rare it was for a supreme spirit to imprint their will so thoroughly upon a hostile domain, especially one as corrupted as the boundary abyss. This was not something created in haste, nor something that would crumble once the creator withdrew her focus. It had structure, intent, and continuity, and she could tell that it would endure long after this army had marched onward.

The king observed everything from his mount, his respect for the ice belle deepened further. He had ruled for decades, fought wars, and witnessed artifacts and formations of terrifying power, yet this surpassed them all in specialty, elegance and finality. No sacrifices were demanded, and no frantic coordination was required. The abyss had simply been rendered harmless by a will that refused to acknowledge its authority.

By the time they emerged on the far side, there was no doubt left in anyone’s mind. The boundary abyss, once a nightmare that divided realms and claimed countless lives, now had a stable and secure passage that could be used freely. It stood as silent proof of the ice belle’s supremacy and resolve, a frozen testament stretching across the darkness.

All of them understood that this was not a fleeting miracle. The domain showed no signs of weakening, no cracks, no instability. It was anchored firmly from one end of the abyss to the other, and it was clear that it would remain there for a very long time.

Thanks to the ice belle alone, the army now possessed a safe and reliable route through one of the most dangerous places in the world.

Once the last banners had cleared the frozen passage and the boundary abyss was finally left behind them, the whole army regrouped and continued its march for several more miles until the oppressive aura of that cursed place faded completely. Only then did the king raise his hand and give the order for a temporary halt, his voice carrying with practiced authority across the vast formation. The soldiers moved with disciplined efficiency, spreading out across the plain and beginning the familiar routines of setting up camp, erecting tents, securing supply wagons, and establishing defensive perimeters as if they had rehearsed this moment countless times.

The land here was still harsh, but compared to the abyss it felt almost welcoming, and many of the men visibly relaxed as soon as their boots touched soil that did not reek of corruption. Fires were lit carefully, cook tents were assembled, and healers began moving among the ranks to check for lingering exhaustion or injuries from the crossing. Even the horses seemed calmer, stamping their hooves softly as they were unbridled and led to temporary enclosures.

The king dismounted near the center of the camp and spoke briefly with Commander Alexander and Captain Varran, his tone low but decisive. He emphasized the need for vigilance, reminding them that while the abyss was behind them, the true battlefield still lay ahead. Both men acknowledged his words with solemn nods, already issuing instructions to their subordinates with clipped precision.

Soon after, the king ordered that scouts be dispatched immediately to survey the land ahead. He selected his best reconnaissance units, cultivators whose senses were sharp enough to detect ambushes and movements from miles away, and instructed them to spread out in carefully measured directions. Their task was clear and uncompromising, to map the terrain, locate any hostile forces, and return with information before dawn if possible. The scouts bowed in unison before vanishing into the distance, their figures quickly swallowed by the fading light.

Nearby, Elder Gideon remained close to Lucas’s in the tent, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest with an intensity that betrayed his composure. Henrietta approached him quietly and assured him once again that Lucas’s condition was stable, explaining that the damage he had sustained was severe but not life threatening, and that rest and time would allow his body to recover. Elder Gideon listened carefully, his hands clenched at his sides, and thanked her in a voice thick with restrained emotion.

The ice belle hovered not far away, her small form glowing faintly in the dimming air as she watched over Lucas with unwavering focus. She said nothing, but the chill that subtly spread around her made it clear that her mood remained dark, and no one dared approach her without reason. Even the most seasoned warriors instinctively gave her space, sensing that beneath her calm exterior lay a power that demanded respect.

As night settled over the camp, the king stood at the edge of the encampment and gazed toward the horizon where the scouts had disappeared. He understood that this brief moment of rest was only a pause before the storm, and that the information those scouts brought back would determine their next move.

Back in Lucas’s Tent, it was quiet except for the uneven rhythm of Lucas’s breathing as he lay unconscious on the bedroll.

Elder Gideon looked at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Lucas’s burned face far longer than he intended.

"I will give you space," Elder Gideon said softly, his voice strained but controlled. "He is alive, and that is enough for me for now. I will return shortly."

Henrietta inclined her head respectfully. "We will watch over him. I promise you that."

Elder Gideon nodded once, then turned and stepped outside the tent, the flap falling closed behind him.

Lira sat closest to Lucas, her fingers trembling slightly as she dipped a cloth into the ointment and began rubbing it gently over the burns on his arm.

"Idiot," she whispered, though her voice was thick with emotion. "You never think about what happens after you save everyone else."

Selene moved closer and knelt beside her. "Do not scold him yet. Save that for when he can actually hear you."

"I am not scolding," Lira replied quietly. "I am trying not to cry, and this is the only way I know how."

Nyx crossed her arms, leaning against one of the tent poles. "I have seen men die screaming after far less than what he faced. The fact that he is breathing at all is terrifying and impressive at the same time."

Henrietta watched Lucas in silence for a moment before speaking. "When he stepped in front of that inferno, he did not hesitate. Not even for a heartbeat. I will never forget that."

Selene looked up at her. "You are carrying too much guilt. He made his own choice."

"I know," Henrietta replied calmly. "But knowing does not make it lighter."

At that moment, the tent flap shifted and Jennifer entered, carrying a satchel filled with vials and folded cloths. Her expression was serious but not panicked.

"I was told he is stable," Jennifer said as she approached the bed.

"He is," Selene answered quickly. "But he looks worse every time we look at him."

Jennifer gave a small nod. "That is normal with burns of this nature. His internal state is far better than his appearance suggests."

Lira looked up at her, eyes red. "Tell me exactly what to do, and I will not mess it up."

"You are doing well already," Jennifer said gently. "Keep applying the ointment slowly. I will administer the potions now."

She knelt beside Lucas and uncorked a small vial, carefully tilting it to let a few drops slide past his lips.

"This one will reduce the pain when he wakes," Jennifer explained. "This one will accelerate skin regeneration. And this one will stabilize his Qi circulation."

Nyx raised an eyebrow. "That is a lot of faith in one body."

Jennifer allowed herself a faint smile. "If his body were ordinary, I would not dare. But his core is frighteningly stable. It is almost as if it refuses to collapse."

Selene exhaled slowly. "That sounds like him."

Henrietta stepped closer to the bed. "When he wakes, I will thank him properly. Say nothing until then. He will try to brush it aside."

Lira nodded without looking up. "He always does."