Chapter Seventeen: Rushing to Forge Spiritual Wooden Weapons

“It seems that on this island, our greatest enemies are not only the sea monsters, but also the martial artists who once sailed with us,” Ye Mo thought grimly, plunging once more into the dense forest in search of more body-tempering herbs.

Only by breaking through to the eighth and ninth levels of the Body Refining stage and bringing back healing herbs to cure Wang Hu and the others could he hope to survive the island’s ever-lurking dangers.

Under the sunlight, Ye Mo glanced about the thicket, searching intently. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he moved toward a patch of shrubs. Moments later, he held a green herb in his hand.

“A grade-three Coin Grass!”

Ye Mo was pleased and carefully dug up the herb, placing it in his pack.

“With these herbs, I can barely treat Wang Hu and Yang You’s external wounds.”

Ye Mo checked the number of herbs he had gathered, feeling a little disappointed. After searching near the camp for two hours, he’d found only two medium-grade healing herbs and one low-grade body-tempering herb.

“It’s getting late. I should head back to check on the camp.”

He looked up at the fading sky and prepared to return to the cave.

After a quarter hour's sprint, he soon saw the scene inside the spiritwood-fenced cave camp.

Wang Hu and Yang You were inside, refining and crafting spiritwood spears.

Mo Ling was helping them.

Spiritwood of the first grade was extremely tough; ordinary iron tools could barely cut it, let alone craft fine spears.

Both Wang Hu and Yang You were novice martial artists, making the work especially strenuous. They took turns using the Mo Mei Sword, shaving and hacking the spiritwood rods bit by bit into sharp spear shapes.

All three were drenched with sweat but showed no sign of slackening. Their survival depended on it—without enough weapons for defense, the next sea monster attack could mean their deaths.

Their enthusiasm ran high, and they worked tirelessly. Wang Hu and Yang You’s sweat soaked their shirts, which were still stained with old blood, and there was no time to clean them. Sweat and blood mingled, dripping down—any outsider might have mistaken it for bloody sweat.

Ye Mo greeted them and entered the cave. After placing his gathered wild fruit and healing herbs in a clean spot, he came out to help craft the spiritwood spears.

Wang Hu practiced a low-level spear technique. His iron spear had been lost in the shipwreck, so aside from making throwing spears, he needed a spiritwood spear for long-term use.

Yang You practiced with short swords, favoring speed over strength.

With Ye Mo joining in, their crafting speed increased dramatically. In just two hours, they finished seven or eight spiritwood spears and two spiritwood shields.

The spiritwood shield was even harder to make than the spears but was extremely solid and strong, able to withstand blows from swords like the Azure Blade, heavy strikes of several hundred pounds, yet was lightweight and easy to carry.

When the first star appeared in the night sky, Ye Mo used dry branches to light a bonfire, and from the herb pile, he took out four gray seabird eggs for a rare meat meal. They’d grown tired of wild fruit these past two days, and the others’ injuries were severe—eating only fruit would hinder their recovery.

Mo Ling cleaned the wild fruit and distributed it.

The two men were straightforward, thanking Mo Ling before digging in.

The four gathered around the fire, eating dinner and discussing their next steps.

“At this rate, we won’t finish twenty spiritwood spears and more than four shields until tomorrow. As for the two low wooden arrow towers, the earliest they’ll be done is tomorrow evening,” Wang Hu said as he chewed on fruit.

“Yes, as long as we finish within a day or two, it shouldn’t be a problem. The camp’s defenses will be much stronger and safer,” Ye Mo replied, then continued: “I picked some body-tempering and healing herbs today. You should use them soon to heal and strengthen your bodies, recover your strength as quickly as possible.”

He had several low-grade body-tempering herbs which he himself couldn’t use at his current stage, so he decided to give them to Wang Hu and the others rather than let them go to waste.

Wang Hu was deeply moved, his eyes reddened as he knelt on one knee before Ye Mo.

“Earlier, my brother and I were robbed and hunted by other martial artists and nearly lost our lives. After Ye Mo took us in, we had good food and shelter, herbs for our wounds, and even precious body-tempering herbs. Apart from working, we have nothing to worry about. Even my master in Donglai never treated us so well! Ye Mo saved our lives and gave us these herbs—such kindness is beyond measure. Wang Hu will never forget it!”

“Wang Hu, get up! It’s nothing. I saved you, but you’re helping me work, aren’t you? That makes us even.”

Ye Mo was flustered. Seeing Wang Hu kneel, though he accepted the gratitude, it still felt awkward. He hurried to pull Wang Hu up.

“Ye Mo saved our lives! If you don’t mind, Ye Mo, my life is yours. I’ll go east if you say east, west if you say west!” Yang You, usually quiet, suddenly knelt as well, speaking in a muffled voice.

Wang Hu looked in surprise at his brother of many years, not expecting such words from the taciturn Yang You.

“This—” Ye Mo was dumbfounded, hurriedly waving his hand in embarrassment.

“I don’t care, I’ve decided!” Yang You said stubbornly.

“Me too! From now on, whatever Ye Mo asks of us brothers, we’ll do it!” Wang Hu declared, banging his head on the ground.

Mo Ling watched from the side, smiling but saying nothing. She too was grateful to Ye Mo for saving her life. But as the Princess of Donglai, her noble status forbade her from pledging herself so freely.

“Get up! From now on, we are brothers through hardship,” Ye Mo said, helping them up and continuing, “Tomorrow you’ll stay at the camp, making weapons and building towers. I’ll go out to find more herbs to heal and strengthen us all. Once we pass this ordeal, we’ll leave this island and continue our quest for the Immortal Village of the East Sea!”

Ye Mo spoke, determined to raise everyone’s spirits, giving them hope for the future—only then could they survive the island’s harsh trials.

Sure enough, the three men’s eyes burned with renewed fervor.

Cultivation!

For martial artists from the nations of the Nine Continents, it was an irresistible lure.

After all, they were martial artists who had braved the sea, fully aware of the dangers of the East Sea, yet they chose to seek immortality—proof of their longing for cultivation.