northernbook Chapter 524 Eternal Cold is the Only Destination
Chapter 524 Eternal Cold is the Only Destination
"Looks like this trip won't be too boring."
Jiraiya's signature, slightly wild laugh had barely begun when he received a solid blow to the back of the head.
It wasn't very forceful, but it was extremely insulting.
"Shut up, you idiot."
Tsunade slowly withdrew her hand, her knuckles bending and straightening, producing a crisp sound like jade striking jade. She simply couldn't stand the almost foolish optimism that her companion maintained under any circumstances.
Especially at this moment.
The ruins were permeated with a viscous odor that sent alarm bells through every cell in her body.
That was not simply death, not just pure blood and fire on the battlefield.
Rather, it is a deeper sense of stagnation, a mixture of resentment, decay, and some unknown belief, like a stagnant pool that has been sealed for decades and then suddenly uncovered.
"Ouch...that hurts!"
Jiraiya exaggeratedly rubbed the back of his head, grinning, but stopped making sarcastic remarks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Tsunade's profile, which appeared particularly cold and hard in the moonlight. Then, glancing at the figure in front of him that had already moved forward silently like a snake, he consciously suppressed all his playful thoughts.
The air fell silent once more.
"Hehe...an interesting atmosphere..."
Orochimaru had no interest in the interaction between the two people behind him.
He kept his body extremely low, gliding silently almost touching the thick snow, his movements so fluid and effortless that it was as if he were an integral part of the snowfield.
Those distinctive golden vertical pupils were staring unblinkingly at the faint, flickering light deep within the ruins.
What flickered deep in his pupils was not wariness, but the excited gleam of a predator discovering a novel species it had never seen before, a mixture of extreme curiosity and possessiveness.
These ruins... are quite interesting.
The composition of the air is exceptionally complex.
In addition to dust particles left by wind and snow erosion, there is also a high concentration of extremely cold and gloomy energy residue.
These remnants resonated with the land in a peculiar way, forming an extremely weak but persistent energy field.
Ordinary ninjas would only find this place eerie and terrifying, and want to get away as soon as possible.
But in Orochimaru's perception, which was beyond his time, this ruin was like a giant petri dish in which some kind of long and bizarre experiment was taking place.
And that campfire is the center of the petri dish.
The three silently slipped into the ruins, still maintaining a perfect equilateral triangle.
The snow underfoot was thick, yet it made no sound when you stepped on it—a skill ingrained in your body.
The crumbling walls cast menacing shadows in the cold moonlight, and the chilly wind howled through the broken windows, as if telling the tragic tales that had once unfolded here.
The further you go in, the more pronounced the lively atmosphere becomes.
At the same time, Tsunade's nostrils twitched slightly as she detected a clearer scent in the air.
It smelled like some kind of herbal medicine that had been boiled for a long time, mixed with the rusty smell of oxidized pig iron, strange and pungent.
Finally, they rounded a collapsed wall and saw the entire campfire.
The fire was small, even weak.
The burning firewood had an abnormal dark brown color, as if it had been soaked in some kind of liquid.
The flame was a dim orange-yellow, with almost no red light, and the heat it emitted was extremely limited, only able to illuminate a range of a few meters around it, and it was even inadequate in its basic function of dispelling the cold.
The flickering firelight illuminated the five figures sitting around it, making them appear ghostly.
They wore worn but thick, pure white cloaks with the hoods pulled low, completely covering their bodies except for their bloodless faces.
It's a pale white color that comes from being stored in formalin for too long, where the tissue fluid has been completely replaced.
Beneath the skin, a winding, bluish-black network of blood vessels is faintly visible, like fine cracks attached to white porcelain.
They seemed completely unaware of the arrival of the three uninvited guests, remaining quietly around the fire, motionless, their postures as stiff as five lifeless ice sculptures.
On the crumbling stone wall to the side, two large, distorted characters were hastily scribbled with some kind of dark red paint.
——The Cult of Evil God.
Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru stopped in the shadows, the cold moonlight outlining their solemn silhouettes.
The three exchanged a silent glance.
Jiraiya mouthed silently: "[It's a living person.]"
Tsunade's brows furrowed, her eyes sharp as knives. With her top-tier medical ninja senses, she could see the barely perceptible vital signs in these individuals: [Something's wrong. Chakra flow is almost stagnant, and their body temperature is as low as that of hibernating reptiles.]
Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with a mesmerizing light. He licked his dry lips lightly with his tongue: "...Sparashi, a perfect, unprecedented experimental subject."
Jiraiya ignored Orochimaru's chilling thoughts, cleared his throat, and the next second, he stepped out of the shadows with his signature cynical smile.
He crossed his arms over his chest, and his wooden clogs crunched softly on the snow, breaking the deathly silence of the ruins.
"Hey friends, it's so cold outside, do you mind if we borrow a light?"
His voice stood out starkly in the desolate ruins, full of the warmth and vitality of the living, completely out of place with the surrounding environment.
However, the five figures did not react at all, as if his voice had been swallowed up by the cold wind of the snowfield.
The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.
Finally, one of the figures closest to the fire slowly raised his head, with an extremely slow, almost mechanical movement.
Beneath the shadow of the hood, a pair of cloudy, unfocused eyes were visible, their surfaces appearing as if covered by a layer of gray.
His lips moved a few times, and the sound he made was not like a human voice, but more like two pieces of floating ice rubbing against each other, dry and hoarse, with each syllable having a harsh, scratching sensation on the eardrums.
"……fire?"
He repeated the word, then tilted his head, as if trying to understand an extremely profound concept that was completely beyond his comprehension.
"warmth……"
Another figure spoke, his voice equally hoarse and unpleasant, like a leaky bellows, "...It's a curse."
Tsunade's eyebrows furrowed instantly.
These words sound like the ramblings of a madman, completely illogical.
But a knowing glint flashed in Orochimaru's golden eyes.
No, it's not entirely nonsense.
His brain was already racing, constructing a bold hypothesis based on the existing information: from a biological perspective, if a species, in order to adapt to extreme low-temperature environments, transforms its own fluid circulation system into a low-energy solid or semi-solid mode through some secret technique or self-modification... then excessively high external temperatures would indeed disrupt the stability of its internal structure, leading to irreversible damage.
"It will melt our bones and evaporate our blood."
The voice continued, its tone devoid of anger, only a numb utterance of stating a fact: "Only eternal cold is our final resting place."
"Outsiders..."
A third voice rang out, this time filled with undisguised, icy hostility: "Get out of here, taking your nauseating heat with you."
He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts for an even more vicious vocabulary.
"Or, stay here forever, become part of this snowfield, and become nourishment for the cold."
As soon as the words were spoken, ten eerie, inhuman crimson lights simultaneously shone from beneath the hoods of the five figures.
A cold and malevolent chakra surge suddenly spread out like ripples.