Chapter 507: Treatment Method
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 507: Treatment Method
Flames surged.
It was a pitch-black fire, possessing a depth capable of devouring souls, yet its outer mantle was a holy, pristine white. The flames flickered and danced like eerie, supernatural spirits.
The Indra King saw the black flame deep within Muen’s eyes. By the time he blinked, the fire was already burning across his naked torso.
In this gray world, the pure black and pure white were strikingly vivid.
The fire had no temperature; it wasn't blazing or scorching. Yet, wherever the flames licked, the flesh on his body simply vanished into thin air. Not a single drop of blood flowed; it was as if, in total silence, his flesh and blood had already become sustenance for this pitch-black flame.
The Indra King reacted instantly, tearing away the flesh the fire had latched onto to prevent it from spreading.
It was useless.
When he was jolted awake by a piercing agony from deep within his body, he realized the flames weren't just burning his flesh—they were burning his spirit.
That was a sliver of his true self’s consciousness left within this avatar.
Within his vacant eyes, the pitch-black flames were slowly eating away, carving out horrifying voids.
The Indra King finally understood what Muen meant when he said he had been "caught."
Strange as this fire was, with his experience and knowledge, there were countless ways to evade it. Had his true body been here, he could have crushed the source of the black flame—Muen Campbell—into a pulp the moment it appeared. He didn't believe the boy could survive being turned into a meat slurry.
But... those were only "ifs."
He was not his true self, and right now, he could not evade.
Muen, ignoring the wound piercing through his own body, had locked his hands onto the King in a death grip. Physical contact was unavoidable, and even their brief eye contact earlier had allowed the black flame to invade his spirit more rapidly.
Spirit and flesh... and likely even the soul, which did not exist in this space, would be incinerated by this black fire.
What a terrifying flame.
"Is this... the power of an Evil God?" the Indra King asked, his voice calm. "But why have I never seen an Evil God who wields such a flame?"
"Take a guess," Muen sneered, having no intention of answering.
He certainly couldn't tell this old man that this was a bizarre power born from the fusion of several Evil Gods' powers—a power even he hadn't fully figured out yet.
"It seems I have underestimated you once again, Muen Campbell," the Indra King sighed softly. "However, even so, I cannot..."
The premonition of death hummed again. Muen’s heart... no, his heart was already shattered. Muen’s mind tightened as he watched the Indra King’s withered body swell slightly. A terrifying atmospheric pressure erupted once more. The King had completely abandoned suppressing the black flame that was turning him into nothingness, choosing instead to launch a ferocious final attack at Muen.
But, the very moment he raised his hand—
Puchi.
A rapier precisely pierced through his chest.
The Indra King’s movements froze. His swelling body deflated like a punctured balloon, and his hand ultimately failed to rise.
He was, in the end, merely an avatar. He lacked the sturdiness of a near-god body, and he didn't possess Muen’s cockroach-like tenacity for life.
Blood trickled from the Indra King’s nose and mouth. In his eyes, even the gray world was beginning to blur.
"Heh, such... perfect timing."
The Indra King sighed in a low voice once more. Then:
"Do not... go in."
Whether this final word was a lingering obsession or a piece of advice, the avatar was then completely consumed by the black flames.
The palm that had been plugging Muen’s abdomen vanished. The hideous wound was exposed to the air, and more blood gushed out. His face grew even paler, and he slumped powerlessly toward the ground.
Fortunately, his body didn't make intimate contact with the cold floor. At the critical moment, a familiar, cold, and soft hand caught him.
Ice condensed, crudely stopping his bleeding for the moment. Celicia’s cool eyes stared intently at Muen.
"Are you alright?"
"Are you actually worried about me?" Muen gave a miserable smile.
Celicia continued to stare at him, her gaze sweeping over his wound and his deathly pale face. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and nodded slightly.
"If you insist on interpreting it that way, then yes."
"..."
Muen was stunned. He hadn't expected this "tsundere" to actually admit it, and for a moment, he didn't know how to respond.
Eventually, he spoke the truth: "It’s nothing major. The Indra King is truly something else. Even though it was just an avatar, the power fed back to me after the black flame consumed him is enough to heal my injuries. My realm has even improved a bit. Of course, it’s not as monstrous as your mid-battle breakthrough, but I’m not far from the Fourth-Tier now."
Muen raised a hand, struggling to wrap a bit of fighting spirit around his fingertips to show Celicia his progress.
Celicia’s cool eyes flickered. She had seen Muen’s black flames before, but she hadn't realized they were even more formidable than she had imagined. However, she didn't press him for details.
"It is, after all, power from an external source. Will it leave any negative effects?" she asked.
"It’s fine." Muen shook his head. "I just need to exercise a bit of restraint and not become too greedy for this power."
The ice thawed, and threads of black flame began to wander through Muen’s wound.
Unlike the way they had devoured the Indra King, this time the black flames released a dense, rich vitality. It was like tender sprouts blooming from the endless, ruined ash after a devastating wildfire.
Life and death were both contained within.
Flesh was reborn, blood was recreated, internal organs shifted back into place, and bones grew. Granulation tissue sprouted, interlaced, and restructured.
At the same time, an itching, stinging sensation—like the biting of countless ants—began to frantically stimulate Muen’s nerves. This pain was several times more intense than the injuries sustained during the adrenaline-fueled heat of battle.
Even Muen, who usually had a high tolerance for pain, couldn't help but twist his expression in agony.
Celicia watched Muen’s pained, closed-eyed expression in silence, seeing his hands clawing tightly into the ground. She said nothing.
Suddenly, however, as Muen was forcing himself to endure the pain, he felt his body being moved slightly.
Against the back of his head, he felt the touch of two soft, rounded, and incredibly elastic surfaces pressed together.
Muen opened his eyes in confusion, but what met his gaze wasn't Celicia’s cool, exquisite face. Instead, it was... two majestic peaks that had suddenly risen from a flat plain. The peaks were hidden beneath the folds of smooth fabric, but from this angle, the curve of the taut "southern hemisphere" was exceptionally beautiful.
"This... th-th-this is?"
Though he already knew what this posture and perspective implied, Muen couldn't help but stammer in confusion. In his mind, it was impossible for the Ice Witch to take the initiative to do something like this.
"A lap pillow."
Half of a cool, beautiful face peeked out from behind the "peaks," still expressionless.
"Didn't you say that a lap pillow could help alleviate your pain?" Celicia’s tone suddenly took on a hint of hostility. "Or were you lying to me?"
"No, no, no..." Muen reacted instantly. "It’s true, it’s true! Look, it doesn't hurt anymore!"
"Good."
Celicia gave a soft huff through her nose and straightened her back again, looking straight ahead. For her, this posture was extremely unfamiliar.
Muen, staring blankly at the scene, blinked and suddenly let out a quiet laugh.
With Celicia’s intelligence, how could she not distinguish between a joke and the truth? But since she was intentionally playing dumb... he would act as if he didn't know either.
At the same time, he had to play dumb himself. Muen silently stuffed the Goddess statue he had just pulled out—intending to use it—back into his pocket.
If he pulled out Liya’s Holy Light artifact to relieve the pain in this atmosphere, he felt like he might be killed on the spot.
Let it hurt, then.
After all, the happiness of a lap pillow truly could heal all pain on a spiritual level.
Yeah, strictly speaking, it wasn't a joke, Muen thought to himself, nodding inwardly.
However... speaking of higher-level treatment methods...
"Um... excuse me, can I flip over? I’ve heard the treatment effect is even better if I face downward."
"Do you truly wish for death?"
"My apologies. I was joking."
...