At ten cycles, Ming Yue was already worn down.
Blood was dripping from her hands from squeezing so hard her nails were cutting into her palm. Her breath was weak and she could barely exert any strength.
However, her eyes were still full of life and her mind was just barely there. It was enough for her to make that decision.
"The eleventh cycle."
The pain flared up once more.
She clenched her jaw, groaning through the torture.
"Endure it! I will keep going!"
That thought was the only thing keeping her afloat, her own voice echoing within the chambers of her mind. She couldn't hear anything else.
The Holy Physician watched her carefully. His hands were hovering over her body as he was prepared to dispel the needles at any second.
"The twelfth cycle."
He kept a straight face, concentrated and wary. However, worry started to settle within him as the next cycle came.
"The thirteenth cycle."