Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death-Chapter 26B2 - Scheme

Hollering laughter echoed through the dark hall, a chaotic cacophony drowning out the pained screams and desperate pleas flowing from the ever-shifting images of death and destruction projected at the hall’s center. Each flicker unveiled more chaos. More despair. More death.

However, several projections remained unchanged, their static images depicting even greater discord than the shifting chaos around them. Among them were places that had once been sanctuaries for those seeking refuge.

“Why is he not dead yet?” A deep, fury-laced voice rang out, silencing the laughter.

Several figures turned toward the source of the voice—a being clad in black, oily hide, its eyes like endless voids.

“If you’re talking about this,” one of the figures said, pointing at an unmoving image of a destroyed System Sanctuary, “then you already know Zachariah’s demise is not yet upon us. Though… after his friend drained him, he does seem rather vulnerable… quite appetizing.”

Another figure snickered. “I wish my spawn were closer. That human is the perfect sustenance—”

“Silence!” the void-eyed figure snapped. “I am not talking about this child of a miserable dog.”

“Are you referring to the fool’s friend?” Another figure, clad in the same oily black hide—a devious being resembling the Darkai—asked.

“You don’t mean the dead child, right?”

All the figures—mostly Infernal Gods—turned toward the Devils speaking, their faces darkening as the void-eyed Devil remained silent for a moment.

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“You do mean him. That’s… You do realize he’s fated to die, don’t you? In the previous Cycles, he never—”

The ground beneath the Devil cracked as an explosion of Essence burst from him. “But we are not in the previous Cycle or the ones before that.”

“This cycle is unlike any before it,” he continued, his voice sharp with conviction. “This run means everything, and you should all know that just as well as I do.”

The Infernal Gods exchanged glances—some scowling while others remained motionless.

“That ‘dead child’ never survived the first twenty-four hours of integration,” the Devil growled. “But now? Now he has a Relic, a soulbound weapon, and an exclusive Class made with the Essence of the Eternal Guardian and Asmo-fucking-deus! And that’s not even all. Have you checked his System Chart to see what his Modification entails?!”

Nobody spoke, but the Devil did not seem to mind. More power erupted from him as he turned to one of the Infernal Gods, a being missing half his face.

“Bloodthrone and Dominion—his eyes bear their mark now. And if I remember correctly, you know exactly what those terms mean better than anyone else here.”

The Infernal God stepped forward, his mutilated face contorted in anger. “You speak of this day as if you escaped unscathed!”

The Devil and the Infernal God clashed. The other Infernal Gods and Devils watched with amusement, relishing the fury filling the air, until one turned back to the unmoving image.

“Since he’s with the fool, he must also know about the regression. Though, the dead child probably doesn’t know what to think of the fool’s words, considering how much has changed. I recall he also humiliated the Pantheon in one of their temples, so he may not necessarily be our enemy. Perhaps… we should corrupt him.” The Infernal God licked his lips in anticipation.

“The dead child won’t succumb to temptation,” another replied. “The Eternal Guardian and an Old One sponsored him. Corruption will not work. Even if it could… The fool and the dead child have been playing around with the fool’s restriction. From the looks of it, those restrictions have loosened since the dwarven youngling exposed a trace of the truth.”

Knowing glances were exchanged.

“You have been watching them,” another Devil noted before turning to the commotion to the left.

He exhaled a stream of green mist and hissed, “You do realize our true nemesis isn’t the Pantheon, don’t you?”

Growls and hisses echoed. Someone muttered about playing a dangerous game, but the Devil ignored it.

“The Pantheon will fall—but not yet. We still need them, just as they need us.”

“I don’t care. We decided to—” one of the Infernal Gods hissed venomously, but the Devil interrupted him.

“I know. We decided to remove the variables that are too hard to control. While Zachariah did not die, we accomplished our goal.”

“So?” the void-eyed Devil growled.

“So,” a calm voice rang out as one of the silent Infernal Gods spoke for the first time, “we play our cards well and proceed.”

He remained eerily calm, a devious smile curling on his lips.

“One of my youngest has prepared something great for Arc. Its destruction was not part of my plan, but that might be for the best. All my youngest desires is revenge,” he added with the same calm demeanor, his eyes shifting into serpentine slits. “He shall rise to great power by reclaiming everything the Pantheon took from us!”

At last, the unmoving picture displaying what was left of Arc changed, unraveling a horde of monsters gathering around a young man.

***

I am still conscious. David snickered, lying on the ground. His chest heaved heavily, and his clothes clung uncomfortably to his body. But by far, his head was the worst part. Even though he knew better, David was certain someone had struck him in the back of the head with a warhammer hundreds of times—probably even more.

But he smiled through the pain. While he hadn’t saved everyone, he had done everything in his power to help as many as possible.

However, looking at the unconscious figures sprawled beneath the dimming lights of [Weave of Life], he wasn’t sure everyone would be thankful for his service. Draining the lifeforce of so many might have been excessive, even if it was to help others.

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But they were useless. At least this way, their existence had meaning, he thought, discarding all worries.

He pushed his trembling arms against the ground and sat upright, his gaze drifting across the Panthea. Most injured survivors and dozens of residents from Arc’s outskirts had gathered in the massive street, but David couldn’t help but wince.

This was all that was left of Arc. It wasn’t much—even if he included the few dozen weak life signals of residents still hiding in the outskirts.

Regardless, he was alive, and he had saved as many as possible. That was all he could do.

Several flashing notifications had distracted him since earlier, but he hadn’t had the time or nerve to check them.

[The Rank of your Primary Class increased by one.]

Bronze VII → Bronze VIII

[Three Attribute Points have been added.]

[Your Source has grown +1 Blood.]

[Proficiency of the Law of Blood has increased.]

…

There were more notifications than expected, but David skimmed through most of them. Several Skill Runes had leveled up from overcoming the ordeal, surviving the monstrosity’s attack, and healing the injured at the expense of his lifeforce—and the lifeforce of others.

“Are we done now?” David asked no one in particular.

“What was that thing?” asked one of the Protectors, a lucky woman who had escaped with only minor injuries.

“How should I know? Your world is filled with creatures like that. The Earthen Union was forced to join the Pantheon less than a month ago…”

The female Protector looked at him and sighed.

David shrugged and lay back, closing his eyes. He deserved some rest.

However, he was shaken awake—only a minute or two later—by panicked shouts.

“Infected are headed this way! Hundreds of them!” a shaken voice cried out.

His eyes fluttered open, and a curse escaped his lips. “Fuck this nonsense!”

The injured around him backed away as he shot up, his Bloodlust seeping into the air.

More residents from the outskirts must have decided to flee to the Panthea, as David could see only a handful of restless signals.

“Can you handle them? I… don’t really feel like it…” David turned to the Protectors.

Normally, he would have loved to fight, but his head felt like it was splitting apart. His lifeforce was also at a dangerously low threshold, which would make prolonged combat difficult.

If his head had been fine, everything would have been a little easier—more so if his Source had more than one Blood drop to spare—but that wasn’t the case.

“We…” The female Protector looked at her comrades, her face pale as a sheet.

Why are they so useless? Aren’t they supposed to protect the Sanctuary? David raged in his heart, but a glance at Arc’s market square was enough to calm him. It wasn’t as though the Protectors had a Sanctuary left to defend. Arc, if they could still call it that, was destroyed. It only existed in name at this point.

“Monsters from the west!”

A familiar voice caught David’s attention. He turned to see Melach jumping from his four-legged Earthen Elemental, carrying a Tirac child. He put the child down and helped several residents off the Earthen Elemental.

David approached him, ignoring the increasing unease spreading through the Panthea. “Monsters? What kind? How many? And… are you sure they’re coming this way?”

Before Melach could say anything, the Earthen Elemental collapsed to the ground. The elf’s legs gave out, and he fell. David caught him just in time and, ignoring his headache, cast [Restore]. Melach’s complexion improved, and he whispered a “thank you.”

“Tell me—what’s going on here?”

Melach winced. “I… I’m not sure.”

“Then tell me what you think. You look like you have some ideas.”

“Well…” Melach coughed. “I think the timing is odd. First, the bandits’ attack, then the sudden appearance of the winged serpent… and now this?”

Now that he thought about it, David’s eyes widened. “The marble!”

Hadn't he found a marble containing lightning currents after the bandit massacre ended?

If the serpent was after the marble and Kurkur had taken it to the Familia to inspect later… David swallowed hard, his gaze drifting to the crater left behind by the winged serpent’s black lightning bolt.

“Marble?” Melach asked, pulling David from his train of thought.

David quickly explained what had happened after the battle with the bandits. Melach paled again.

“The winged serpent was strong enough to ignore all defensive measures. If it was granted the Essence of an Infernal God, a Devil, or someone else working against the Pantheon, then…” His head snapped toward the Pantheon’s temple, towering over the others.

“Then what?” David hissed impatiently.

Melach cursed. “Then the winged serpent’s attack was likely enhanced by a transcendent being’s Essence. That must have weakened the Panthea’s natural defenses, exposing the Essences imbued in every structure to the rest of the Earthen Union.”

David groaned, realizing Melach’s implication. “And that Essence—other creatures can sense it from tens of kilometers away? That’s why you’re sure the monsters are coming.”

Melach nodded but said nothing more. Maybe that was for the best.

David wanted to tear the Panthea apart. But somehow, his fury vanished, replaced by cold clarity. How? He didn’t know. One moment, he was seething; the next, he was calm.

“That makes it easy. If we don’t have the means to fight the hordes of undead and monsters, we won’t do it,” he said coolly. “We should abandon the Panthea and leave the imbued Essence to the Undead.”

“We cannot do that!” Melach shouted, coughing up blood. “Abandoning our saviors like this is unacceptable!”

“Do you want to die?” David asked sharply, his Bloodlust leaking.

Melach recoiled, his eyes wide. He only calmed when David sighed and pulled his Bloodlust back.

“You don’t want to die, and I’m fairly sure the same applies to everyone else.” He gestured at the others. “That means we have to leave.”

“Or… we fight the hordes and protect Arc.”

“Arc is gone, you idiot!” David hissed, ignoring the heads snapping in his direction. “Look at what’s left of your Sanctuary—it’s destroyed!”

Silence fell over the Panthea, broken only by pained groans and muffled cries.

“Even if we wanted to leave, we can’t,” someone finally spoke after what felt like an eternity. “There are too many unconscious, too many wounded who can’t even walk properly. Can you heal all of them before the attack from both sides? And can you ensure the monsters won’t ambush us as we escape? Our fighting power is close to nil. We… have no choice.”

No choice but to die for the Pantheon? Are you fucking kidding me?! David wanted to scream at the man, but everyone else was already nodding.

Instead, he turned to Merchant Elion and his comrades, his voice cold as steel. “I know you guys have small spatial storages.”

They flinched as his eyes landed on them, but David couldn’t care less at this moment. If they couldn’t fight, they might as well be of use.

“Show me what you got,” he commanded. “Now!”