Chapter 433: He's a Good Man

After a brief pause, Oliver didn't wait for Isolde to say anything more. He leapt down immediately. Though both of them had serpent-repelling powder on them, the wind was too strong, and by the time they reached the mountain, most of the scent had already been blown away. Moreover, they weren't facing just one or two snakes, but at least thousands.

As Oliver jumped down, he immediately provoked the snakes. They surged toward him, but Oliver was prepared. He swiftly twirled his sword in his hand. The blade remained sheathed; not to kill the snakes, but the force of the wind it created pushed back most of them.

The stench of the snakes was overpowering, and Oliver struggled to keep from gagging as he moved forward, step by step, toward the Crimson Serpent. The Crimson Serpent was positioned at the center, surrounded by many colorful snakes. While Oliver's sword wind was fierce, not all the snakes had been repelled. He knew that if he killed one, the others would go into a frenzy.

Suddenly, one snake lunged at Oliver's neck. From above, Isolde saw it all and cried out, “Watch out for your neck!”

With lightning speed, Oliver grabbed the snake's head and squeezed, throwing it to the ground. This broke his sword wind, and the snakes immediately surged toward him. Oliver quickly tossed more serpent-repelling powder and jumped into the air, unwinding his belt and wrapping it around the Crimson Serpent, which was surrounded by other snakes. But the Crimson Serpent, which seemed lethargic at first, suddenly became nimble, its head swaying and curling around the belt, eyes fixed on Oliver with a deadly gaze.

Isolde, seeing this, urgently pulled Oliver toward her, guiding him onto the ice. She felt his forehead, worry written across her face. “Did it bite you?”

“It’s fine,” Oliver panted, catching his breath. “This won’t work. There are too many snakes, and we can’t kill them. It’s difficult to get close to the Crimson Serpent.”

“I’ll try going down,” Isolde suggested.

Oliver immediately stopped her. “You won’t be able to do anything. Let me think.”

The snakes had calmed down, as they had not received the signal to attack. After the threat subsided, they returned to their positions around the Crimson Serpent, still alert with tongues flicking in the air. There wasn’t much serpent-repelling powder left. It was impossible to cover their entire bodies with it.

Oliver thought for a moment, then tied both of their belts together and wrapped them around his leg. He left the remaining piece for Isolde to hold. “Keep the gem in your mouth, grab the belt with both hands. I’ll dangle down to grab the Crimson Serpent. My iron hand isn’t afraid of snake bites. Once I have it, pull me up.”

“This is too dangerous,” Isolde objected. “What if the snakes coil around your arms and you can’t drive them away?”

“I don’t have time,” Oliver insisted. “If we don’t get the Crimson Serpent, we won’t be able to save Natasha. We still have a long way back. We can’t afford any delays.”

He wrapped the belt around her hands, used his sword to carve grooves into the ice, then bit down on the gem she was holding. Lying down, he hooked his toes in the grooves and slowly began to lower himself.

As he descended, the snakes surged toward him again. He swung his sword with one hand while reaching for the Crimson Serpent with the other. Several snakes coiled around his wrist, but Oliver flung them off. However, they quickly rewrapped themselves, snaking up his arm, all the way to his neck.

Isolde, in a panic, grabbed some broken ice and threw, hitting three of the snakes, but one managed to avoid the blow. The poisonous snakes surrounding the Crimson Serpent moved toward Oliver. Seeing an opportunity, he ignored the snake on his arm, his iron hand clamping onto the head of the Crimson Serpent, pulling it up with great force.

Isolde yanked him up, and with a graceful flip, Oliver threw the snake from his shoulder onto the ground. But the snake launched itself at Isolde, landing on her shoulder and sinking its fangs into her. Isolde quickly swiped the snake off, but as Oliver landed, he grabbed her arm, lifted her into the air, and used his lightness skill to flee.

Ruben, watching the scene unfold, was stunned. Oliver, holding Isolde in one arm and clutching the Crimson Serpent in the other, urgently called out, “Ruben, Isolde’s been bitten!”

Ruben took the Crimson Serpent, quickly scraped its back, and let its blood drip into the ice. He looked at Oliver and said, “Put the ice in a bowl and get down the mountain quickly. She stays here.”

Oliver hesitated, glancing at Isolde. Isolde’s breathing was labored, but she trusted Ruben to help her. She said, “Go, quickly.”

Oliver looked at her one last time. “I’ll be back soon.” He rushed into the cabin, grabbed a bowl, and scooped up the blood-soaked ice before sprinting down the mountain.

Isolde slumped to the ground, her vision spinning. Ruben, having released the Crimson Serpent, watched as it slithered toward Isolde. Ruben didn’t expect this; he blew his whistle, rushing toward her, but it was too late. The serpent sank its fangs into Isolde’s hand and slithered away.

Ruben supported her, using a dagger to cut open the wound and squeeze out the venom. His face was grim, but Isolde smiled weakly.

“What’s so funny? You’re going to die, do you know that?” Ruben growled.

Isolde, struggling to keep her dizziness at bay, managed to say, “I’m laughing because you’re not as indifferent as you pretend. You really do care.”

“Enough talking,” Ruben snapped, forcing a pill into her mouth. “Anyone bitten by a Crimson Serpent’s venom is dead for sure. Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

Isolde slowly lay down, a smile still playing on her lips. “Dying well – what’s there to fear?”

The pill melted in her mouth, and a foul taste spread across her tongue. Her stomach churned, but she had no strength to vomit. Darkness took over, and she fainted.

When she woke, it was already morning. Her body felt completely drained, her mouth bitter and foul, the taste lingering. She lay next to the bed, retching weakly.

“Guess you’re lucky,” Ruben’s hoarse voice came from nearby. “You should’ve been dead by now.”

Isolde slowly lifted her head, seeing him seated in the only chair in the room, his face weary and pale, his hair streaked with gray. He looked like he had aged ten years.

“Ruben,” she said, struggling to sit up. “You saved me?”

Ruben slowly stood up, his voice heavy. “You said she treated you like a daughter. I saved you to atone for my own sins.”

“Ruben,” Isolde called out, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I told you, you’re lucky – there will always be people to help you,” Ruben said, and walked out.

Isolde lay back on the bed, feeling dizzy again. She couldn’t get up and had to remain lying down, eventually drifting into a deep sleep.

When she woke again, she saw Oliver sitting by her bed. He leaned down, his worried face finally breaking into a smile. “You’re awake.”

“Where’s Ruben?” Isolde asked, pulling the blanket off. Though she felt a little stronger, her head still spun.

“I didn’t see him when I came in. But a woman came and told me you were fine, so I stayed here waiting for you to wake up.” Oliver gently lifted her, brushing her forehead. “Your fever’s not as bad. How do you feel?”

“I’m okay now, just weak,” Isolde whispered, leaning on his shoulder. “What about Natasha?”

“I don’t know. After I delivered the Crimson Serpent’s blood, I rushed back here as quickly as I could,” Oliver said.