Chapter 355

"Faster! We need to move faster!" Luna White's military boots sank deep into the mud, each step like pulling a stubborn root from the earth. Lily Collins trailed behind her, her face as pale as parchment.

A low voice suddenly cut through the darkness ahead: "Halt! Password!"

Both women exhaled in relief. They'd finally arrived.

At the highland outpost, Andrew Smith checked his wristwatch for the tenth time. The supply convoy was two hours late. His men had been surviving on ration biscuits for two days, their lips cracked and bleeding.

"Captain! The medics are here!" The radio operator's voice brimmed with relief.

Andrew stood abruptly, dust cascading from his greatcoat. The ambush three days ago still haunted him—five soldiers fallen, their blood pooling in the trenches like crimson streams.

"Take them to the wounded," he rasped.

Inside the makeshift medical tent, the metallic tang of blood hung thick in the air. Two critically injured soldiers lay on stretchers, their bandages saturated with dark stains.

Lily's knees buckled. A decade as a county hospital nurse hadn't prepared her for wounds this gruesome—shrapnel had torn through abdominal cavities, exposing glimpses of intestine.

"What are you waiting for?" Luna was already crouching beside a patient, fingers steady on his pulse. Her stomach dropped as she assessed the damage. Arterial rupture. Without immediate intervention...

Silver needles gleamed under the kerosene lamp as she unrolled her cloth bundle. The surrounding soldiers exchanged doubtful glances—could this ancient method possibly work?

When the first needle pierced skin, the unconscious soldier convulsed. Beads of sweat formed on Luna's temple as she inserted the second needle precisely into the Hegu point. Miraculously, the gushing blood began to slow.

"It's working!" a transporter gasped. The wounded man's eyelids fluttered open.

Andrew watched from the doorway as the slender figure moved between casualties. Her hands moved with machine-like precision—unthinkable for a woman barely out of her teens.

"Evacuate them immediately." Luna looked up, her gaze locking with his. Her eyes burned with intensity. "The shrapnel's still inside. I've sealed the meridians temporarily, but they won't hold beyond six hours."

The transport team sprang into action. As Andrew approached, he caught an unexpected scent—herbal notes cutting through the bloodstained air.

"You practice traditional medicine?"

Luna wiped her hands clean before answering. "Family acupuncture techniques." She didn't mention the supernatural energy woven into those needles—a life-saving skill honed during her apocalyptic past life.

Lily finally regained her composure, trembling hands dressing minor wounds. She stole glances at Luna, marveling at how the younger woman handled gore with the detachment of someone peeling potatoes.

Night wind carried gunpowder fumes across the trenches. Andrew watched the retreating torchlights of the evacuation team before speaking. "Tomorrow brings a hard fight."

Luna's hands paused mid-motion as she secured her medical kit. She knew—the real trial was just beginning.