A true immortal now descended from the heavens. He originally belonged to hell, but no soul would ever trust a demon to be a healer, and so even if he returned, he would have been promptly kicked out.

Ric cared little about where he belonged or what belonged to him. If he found something he liked, he took it, and if he liked a location, he turned it to hell to suit his needs.

Hell isn’t volcanic heat or torture, it’s a place where one has to be constantly vigilant, as a simple knife can end years of effort.

The powerful, sneaky, and tricky always get the biggest slice of the pie, while the weak, lazy, and pitiful make excuses, trying to build imaginary boundaries called equality. Brick by brick, one has to build, but Ric enjoyed the intellect behind collapsing an entire empire with a single well-placed bomb.

Darkness and light are opposing affinities. One destroys, and the other creates.

Darkness itself never knew how akin to the affinity Ric was. He had to destroy it to show how much he loved the affinity and now... now Ric found himself surrounded by life.

That stinking old brick of creation.

He challenged and pissed off the wrong deity when he declares no matter where he can create paradise. Of course, his paradise meant hell for others.

Beaming with light, the only option left with him was to... BLLEAAHH! He... Al.

These hypothetical bricks have one function; to heal. It does not matter if you throw the brick at someone, the brick only ends up building their house.

Others focus on dual affinities for this very reason.

Ric opens his eyes, scanning the area one more time. There isn’t anything he could do if the Fea ended their miserable lives, but he would rather face and remember his opponent’s signature.

After gaining immortality, it would come in handy to remember faces. In his old life, names and faces were always a blur. You either die or kill. They voiced a point in keeping track of one’s enemies, but Ric never left a loose end.

That is just one less name or face to remember; his sweet spot.

Now that he has broken into immortality, he can be a bit more careless. All he had to do was remember their faces and find a way back to reap the sweet fruit of revenge. There also lies a possibility that he isn’t immortal, so if he does witness death and reincarnate, he can strike off two myths at once.

Mary lay unconscious beside him. He flooded her with vitality, but the higher the healing, the longer it takes to recuperate.

Ric closes his eyes, refocusing on the stubborn light that wouldn’t leave him alone.

A focused healer has horrible attributes. They either use their internal energy to heal others or to heal themselves. One cannot do the other, as both concepts fundamentally oppose each other, like opposite sides of a coin.

Ric already knows they suck at multiple levels.

He tricked many emitters, those who can heal others, to heal him. It is as simple as forcing them to uphold their stupid oat, pretending to be an ally, or a knife to their loved one’s throat.

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A tip from Ric; kill everyone after you’re done healing.

Healers are the biggest pain in the butt when you are dealing with a team, or worse, armies.

Based on how he used the aura within him to flush the nun with Vitality, Ric confirmed he was a fucking emitter.

A snap of a twig forces Ric to open his eyes.

The mana exhaustion and wounds covering every inch of his body forced Ric to slumber, yet he embraced and used the pain to keep himself vigilant.

In his old world, Ric switched the pain on and off based on the circumstances. It helps and hinders at moments, so he mastered his body to regulate and control pain to his advantage.

He might have left eons of training along with his body, but the consciousness carried his mental faculties for the ride. Hence the immortality part!

Unable to move or fight as he once could, the only necessity to remain awake and combat the unseen forces is willpower. Willpower, after all, is an integral aspect of one's mind.

Once again, Ric used pain to stave off sleep, resisting the allure of its cold embrace. Currently, only his eyes obeyed his commands; any additional movement threatened to let pain overpower his willpower.

‘Useless mortal body.’ Ric curses inward. ‘I will have to start training from ground zero.’

Ric wanted to thrash about like a teenager throwing a tantrum. A slight grunt escaped his throat, and he felt like someone shoved a hot rod into his throat.

The pain slaps the senses back into him, forcing Ric to stay motionless. Before, a slight breeze on his skin felt like acid. The sensation was all too familiar. This wasn’t his first acid bath.

Thanks to the nun wrapping his entire body in those weird leaves, the pain lost the battle against willpower.

Left with limited movement, Ric scans the area with darting eyes.

At the corner of his eye, Mary lay unconscious. The rest were leaves, branches, and the sky.

Someone is unquestionably nearby; there's no doubt about it. They have slowed their pace and are approaching with caution. It's evident that it must be more than one person; venturing into Fea territory without adequate backup is a move only a fool would make.

The soon-to-be assailants took steady steps to close the gap.

Ric kept a close watch on the direction of the sound as he reflected on his present condition. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of futility surrounding both his current and future endeavors. Nevertheless, the ultimate goal remained unchanged: to test his immortality and seek revenge.

Healers are the weakest fighters and have the worst defensive measures. Self-healers at least have vast reserves and can keep healing themselves. Because of their ridiculous vitality, many use them as tanks, keeping them upfront.

These kinds are a pain to deal with. Unlucky for him, he falls under the emitter, and they are barely one tier above an average human in defensive measures.

A pathetic ‘Imp’ can slow him down.

He couldn’t comprehend why anyone would willingly risk their life to join a battle, fully aware that their mere presence makes them the primary target.

Also, it takes two average humans to beat an emitter healer to a pulp and one of them is enough to catch a fleeing healer.

This is why demons never have a healer amongst their ranks. Why the fuck would they care for their kin if its death meant more meat for him?

When selfishness is the name of the game, the only power lies in one’s fist, and now Ric’s every blow will only replenish his opponent’s health.

Hell is much kinder than this!

He is definitely in a much worse place!

Ric hears a hook rustling through the wind and immediately shifts his gaze to the nun.

The hook, or whatever their assailant threw, wasn’t in sight, but she was slowly dragged away.

Ric’s opinion of the assailants kept increasing; They checked for traps before rushing to attack.

‘Smart.’ Ric held off on the smile. After recovery, he can take his sweet time torturing them to death.

The nun was dragged out of sight, and whispers emanated from the southwest of his current location.

Ric marks a tree to remember the spot and shifts his concentration back to the whispers. If they were going to hide from his sight, he had to register their voices to track them down.

“What is Mary doing all the way here?” A small girl argued with a grumpy old man.

“How should I know? You ask as if I dragged her out here.”

“Well, help me drag her out of here. It isn’t safe. The Fea might find us.”

“Do you see my hands?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Why would I kid about this?”

“AHhh...!” The little girl grunts and does the heavy lifting herself. She grunted with every step, slowly carrying Mary away.

‘What is happening here?’ Ric was confused. ‘They took a pathetic nun and left the Demon King? Maybe I gave them too much credit?’

Ric shrugged away the thought and concentrated on claiming the lost darkness.

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