Sea of Sand (2)

Chu Shihan forced down the surge of blood brought on by his depleted spiritual energy and mounting anxiety. His gaze swept over the four disciples still beside him.

His eyes settled on a young disciple clutching his arm, his face pale. Dark red blood had soaked through his sleeve, and fine grains of sand clung around the wound. He was in a sorry state.

"How bad is it?" Chu Shihan softened his voice and stepped closer, motioning for the disciple to sit.

The disciple sat as instructed and said through the pain, "Just a flesh wound. It's nothing..."

"In a place like this, no wound is trivial." Chu Shihan cut him off, his tone grave.

He carefully rolled up the torn sleeve, revealing a wound deep enough to expose bone. Its edges had taken on an unnatural grayish yellow—the telltale sign of corrosion.

That was the most terrifying thing about Spirit-Locking Sand. It actively followed spiritual energy fluctuations and ate its way in, clinging like a disease to bone. Spiritual energy already moved sluggishly here, and wounds healed even more slowly. If left untreated, the corrosion could reach the bone, with unthinkable consequences.

Chu Shihan frowned. Without hesitation, he pressed two fingers together like a sword and gathered a thread of exceptionally pure, restrained spiritual energy at their tips, holding them lightly above the wound.

That pure energy became a gentle current of warmth. It probed carefully into the wound, driving out and purifying each grain of Spirit-Locking Sand embedded deep in the flesh, including those trying to burrow farther in.

The process demanded immense patience and precise control. One careless move could provoke the Spirit-Locking Sand, speeding up the corrosion—and getting it on himself.

Fine beads of cold sweat broke out across the disciple's forehead. His face grew paler,