Landlord in the Arctic

Chapter 269 - 233: Saving a Life

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

The three Tribal Elders knelt down at the same time. The sound was especially abrupt in the silent clearing, instantly drawing everyone’s gaze.

Their once-doubtful faces were now filled with piety and awe. The previous scrutiny in their eyes was gone, replaced by a profound deference to Feng Mountain.

The three Tribal Elders were on their knees, the tassel-covered wooden staffs topped with eagle heads in their hands now placed to the side. It was as if, in that moment, these symbols of their status no longer mattered.

One of the elders looked up, his eyes trembling slightly, and spoke with a reverent voice.

"You... You truly are Khilla, the great Tribal Elf, guardian of the Spirit of All Things! Please forgive our ignorance and offense. We beg you to display your miraculous power and save our chief."

Khilla!

Hearing the elder address the outsider with this name, the surrounding tribe members’ eyes went wide, their faces filled with shock.

"Take your people and leave this area," Feng Mountain said, raising a hand and pointing to the edge of the grassy field.

With an agility that belied their age, the three old men quickly scrambled to their feet.

After standing up, they first gave Feng Mountain a respectful bow.

Then, they swiftly turned and began loudly ordering the tribe members to leave the area.

Although the tribe members were still full of doubt, seeing their elders act with such reverence, they didn’t dare ask any questions. They all began to gather their belongings and walk in an orderly fashion toward the edge of the field.

"You’re not leaving?" Feng Mountain turned his head to look at Jeff, who was standing to the side.

’I have to go too?’

A look of regret on his face, Jeff reluctantly left the grassy field, glancing back every few steps.

’What a rare opportunity it was to witness Feng Mountain perform Witchcraft with my own eyes.’

Soon, only Nash remained by the Totem Wooden Pillar, still holding his Long Spear as he guarded his father.

"Khilla."

"I’m here. It’ll be fine." Feng Mountain looked around and spotted a small puddle nearby. Not caring whether it was clean or not, he said, "Go get some water."

Nash had unconditional trust in Feng Mountain. He immediately picked up a stone bowl used for rituals, ran to the puddle, and scooped up a bowlful of water.

Feng Mountain didn’t have time for any showy theatrics. He simply extended his hand toward the stone bowl and used three types of Witchcraft: Hemostasis Technique, Breathing Technique, and Healing Technique.

"Alright. Now, have your father drink all of this water. The rest is up to whether the Spirit of All Things decides to show us favor."

Nash held the stone bowl and sat beside his unconscious father. He carefully lifted his father’s head and poured the water from the stone bowl into his mouth.

However, Feng Mountain wasn’t entirely sure if he could actually be saved.

Fortunately, Nash’s father wasn’t suffering from a terminal illness or dying of old age. Witchcraft was still effective for treating external injuries.

After drinking the Witch Water.

Nash’s father’s complexion showed some clear improvement. Before, his face had been as pale as paper, completely devoid of color.

But now, his ashen-gray face gradually began to change, a faint blush spreading across it like a soft glow of dawn breaking through a hazy sky.

His tightly shut eyes remained closed, but his breathing, once barely perceptible, now seemed to have grown slightly stronger.

The rise and fall of his chest was also more distinct than before, as if the nearly stagnant life force within his body was slowly being reawakened.

Nash watched his father’s changes from the side, both nervous and expectant.

His eyes filled with emotional tears. He gripped his father’s hand tightly, continuously murmuring tribal words of blessing, hoping his father would pull through completely.

Feng Mountain, however, frowned, his relaxed expression slowly turning serious.

’I just used three types of Witchcraft for treatment, yet it only managed to improve his complexion slightly,’ he thought. ’This means Nash’s old man is very seriously injured.’

’If he had received proper medical treatment right after being injured, and then I used Witchcraft on him, he might have been able to get up and run a marathon by now.’

’But as it is, although I’ve temporarily pulled him back from the brink of death, a long period of recovery will be needed for him to heal completely.’

A mountain breeze blew past, carrying a hint of chill and causing the surrounding grass and trees to rustle.

It was winter, after all. Leaving an unconscious, injured man lying on a cold stone slab would take half his life, even if the injury itself didn’t kill him.

Feng Mountain looked at Nash. "Your father’s life isn’t in immediate danger. Let’s get him back to a hut first."

"Thank you!" Nash looked up, his expression full of gratitude.

"We’re brothers. No need for that." Feng Mountain waved a hand dismissively and stepped forward to help. Together, the two of them lifted Nash’s father and carried him toward the tribe’s huts.

When they reached the edge of the grassy field, the people of the Bear Tribe were already waiting.

Upon seeing Feng Mountain, an expression of both awe and humility involuntarily appeared in the tribespeople’s eyes, as if Feng Mountain had become a godlike being to the Bear Tribe.

"Do you have anything to carry him on?" Feng Mountain asked softly.

A tribesman quickly produced a makeshift stretcher woven from branches and vines. They then carefully took Nash’s father from the two men’s arms.

When they saw their chief breathing steadily, the tribespeople’s eyes flashed with frenzied joy. They looked up at Feng Mountain again, and in addition to their earlier awe, their gazes were now filled with deep gratitude.

One of the Tribal Elders, filled with reverence, slowly walked up to Feng Mountain.

He first stopped and straightened his back, then, with an extremely solemn posture, gave Feng Mountain a deep bow.

"Great Khilla, the Yosemite Bear Tribe implores you to come to our village, to taste our most precious fine wine, the fruits of our autumn harvest, and the most succulent meat from the forest."

...

「Yosemite Bear Tribe」

This day undoubtedly became the liveliest day for the tribe.

The normally tranquil village was now filled with a joyous atmosphere.

The women gathered around a bonfire, meticulously preparing a variety of sumptuous foods.