Chapter 505: The Treatment Method

Flames rose.

They were pitch-black flames, holding a depth capable of devouring souls, yet the outer layer of those flames was an incomparably holy pure white.

The fire flickered, like a strange and eerie spirit.

King Yintuo saw that black flame inside the depths of Muen’s pupils, and in the instant he blinked, that flame had already begun burning on his naked body.

In this gray world, pure black and pure white were so clearly visible.

The flame had no temperature; it was not blazing or scorching. But wherever the flame drifted across his body, his flesh simply vanished into thin air.

Not even blood flowed. As if, in a soundless moment, his flesh had already become the nourishment for this pitch-black fire.

King Yintuo reacted swiftly and tore off the flesh where the flame clung to prevent it from spreading.

But it was completely useless.

Because when he snapped awake from a deep pain rising from within his own core, he discovered that the flames were not only burning upon his flesh... they were burning upon his spirit.

It was a fragment of his true self, a sliver of his spirit left inside this avatar.

In his godless eyes, pitch-black flames were eating into them bit by bit, gnawing out horrifying hollows.

Only now did King Yintuo finally understand what Muen meant by “he’s been caught.”

These flames were bizarre, yes, but with his experience and knowledge, he possessed countless ways to evade them.

If it were his true body here, the very moment the black flame appeared, he could have crushed the source—Muen Campbell—into minced flesh ahead of time.

He did not believe that this guy could still live after being ground into paste.

But... all of that was only if.

This was not his true body, and right now, he could not evade anything.

Because Muen, disregarding the wound that pierced through him, had already locked both hands onto him, fingers digging in with a death grip. Physical contact could not be avoided by any means, and even that brief moment of eye contact earlier allowed the black flame to invade his spirit even faster.

Both spirit and flesh... and perhaps even the soul that did not truly exist here... would be burned to nothing by this black fire.

A terrifying flame.

“This is... the power of an Evil God?”

King Yintuo’s tone was calm.

“But why have I never seen which Evil God commands such flames?”

“You guess?”

Muen sneered, giving no intention of answering.

He definitely couldn’t ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) tell this old monster that this was the fused power of several Evil Gods combined into something even he himself hadn’t fully figured out yet.

“Seems I underestimated you once again, Muen Campbell.”

King Yintuo sighed lightly.

“However, even so, I still cannot...”

The sense of impending death hummed once again. Muen’s heart—no, his heart was already shattered—Muen’s spirit tightened. He saw King Yintuo’s withered frame suddenly swell slightly, and terrifying pressure erupted outward again. He had completely stopped suppressing the black flame that was slowly turning him into nothingness, and instead launched a vicious attack at Muen.

But the very instant he raised his hand—

Puff.

A slender sword pierced cleanly through his chest.

King Yintuo froze, his swelling body deflating like a leaking balloon. That raised hand never lifted again.

He was, after all, only an avatar—without the near-divine body of his true form, and without Muen’s cockroach-like tenacity for survival.

Blood flowed from King Yintuo’s mouth and nose. Even the gray world faded from his vision.

“Heh... you really are... in perfect sync.”

King Yintuo sighed once more.

Then—

“Do not... go inside.”

Whether this final line was obsession or warning, no one would ever know. His form was completely consumed by black flame.

The hand plugging the wound in Muen’s abdomen vanished, leaving the hideous injury exposed to the air. More blood spurted out, his face grew even paler, and he collapsed weakly to the ground.

Fortunately, his body never met the cold ground.

At the critical instant, a familiar cold yet soft little hand caught him.

Ice formed, crudely sealing his wound for the moment. Celicia’s cool, clear eyes were fixed tightly on Muen.

“Are you alright?”

“You’re actually worried about me?”

Muen let out a bitter smile.

Celicia continued staring at him. Her gaze swept across his wound, then his pale face. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and lightly nodded.

“If you must interpret it that way... then yes.”

“......”

Muen froze, genuinely surprised that this stubborn tsundere would admit it. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

He eventually spoke honestly:

“It’s nothing serious. King Yintuo really is King Yintuo. Even though it was only an avatar, the portion of power the black flame fed back to me after burning him is already enough to heal my injuries. I even made some progress in my realm. Of course, not as insanely fast as you advancing mid-battle... but I’m not far from Fourth Rank now.”

Muen raised a hand, painfully gathering some battle-qi at his fingertips to show Celicia his advancement.

Celicia’s cool gaze flickered. She had seen Muen’s black flame before, but it was even stronger than she imagined.

Still, she did not ask further.

“In the end, it’s power from an external source. Will it leave any... negative effects?”

Celicia asked.

“No worries.”

Muen shook his head.

“As long as I restrain myself a little and don’t get too addicted to this power, it’ll be fine.”

Ice melted. Thin threads of black flame drifted across Muen’s wound.

Unlike how it devoured King Yintuo’s flesh earlier, the black flame now released an overwhelmingly dense surge of vitality.

Like after a destructive inferno, from endless gray ash, a tender sprout breaks through.

Life and death, all contained within it.

Flesh regenerated, blood rebuilt, organs settled back into place, bones grew.

Meat sprouted, interwove, reconstructed.

At the same time, a sensation like countless ants gnawing spread wildly, stimulating every one of Muen’s nerves. The pain was several times stronger than that caused during a fight when adrenaline was soaring.

Even someone like Muen, who had always possessed exceptional endurance toward pain, couldn’t help his face twisting.

Celicia quietly watched him, his eyes closed in agony, his fingers digging tightly into the ground, saying nothing.

Then, suddenly, while Muen was forcibly enduring the pain, he felt his body being gently shifted.

The back of his head met a soft, round, elastic sensation.

Muen opened his eyes in confusion—only to see that what filled his vision was not Celicia’s cold, beautiful face.

But... two peaks rising abruptly from what had once been level plains, majestic and imposing.

The peaks were wrapped in soft fabric with slight folds, but from this angle, the taut curve of the southern hemisphere was exceptionally beautiful.

“This... th-this is...?”

He already knew what this posture, this view, implied—but he still couldn’t help voicing his bewilderment.

Because in his understanding, that ice witch would never take the initiative to do something like this.

“A lap pillow.”

Half of Celicia’s cold, exquisite face peeked out from behind the peaks, expressionless as ever.

“Did you not say that a lap pillow could help alleviate your pain?”

As she spoke, her tone suddenly carried a hint of warning:

“Or... were you lying to me?”

“No no no...”

Muen reacted immediately. “It’s true, it’s absolutely true. Look, I’m not in pain anymore!”

“Good.”

Celicia gave a soft huff through her nose and straightened her back again, looking forward.

For her, this posture was extremely unnatural.

Muen blinked up at her in a daze, then let out a small amused breath.

With Celicia’s intelligence, how could she possibly not distinguish which of his words were jokes and which were genuine?

But since she was choosing to pretend otherwise... he would also pretend.

At the same time, he quietly tucked away the Goddess Statue he had already taken out and had been about to use.

—If he used Liya’s Holy Light tool to ease pain in this atmosphere, he felt like he would be killed on the spot.

Pain was fine.

After all... the happiness of a lap pillow truly could heal everything on a spiritual level.

And strictly speaking, that wasn’t even a joke.

Muen nodded to himself inwardly.

Only... speaking of higher-level treatment methods...

“Um... may I turn over? I heard that being face-down improves the healing effect.”

“...Do you actually want to die?”

“My deepest apologies. That was a joke.”