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Healer of Monsters
Volume 5. Chapter 2

Volume 5. Chapter 2

'Emergency escape!'

Pushing himself to the limit, Stas surged upward, avoiding a direct hit and sensing how something exceedingly repulsive was gathering a violent force beneath his feet. The old man's technique had effortlessly burned through the earth, descending into unfathomable depths.

But it was foolish to think that even then the technique was no longer dangerous.

Leviathan, following her master's example, also hastily left the area that had become deadly.

Another meter, one more, and finally, the surface - which, nonetheless, was covered with undulating poison and acid. Anyone daring to touch this liquid would immediately receive terrible burns and poisoning, making the rest of their life excruciatingly painful.

But Ordyntsev did not earn his reputation for nothing, being someone who could get out of even the most appalling situations.

"Earth technique. Stone pillars!" Obeying the earthling's will, a thick cylinder grew right above his head, unceremoniously entering the boiling acid and, passing through it, breaking out into the clean air.

In addition, three more distracting columns appeared a little to the side.

Stas followed, moving along the pillar like a tube, protected on all sides by stone. Leviathan did something similar, using a thin film of surrounding stone that had solidified a few centimeters from her scales.

And they did it just in time, as Jirobu's technique finally detonated below, instantly beginning to devour all the surrounding matter, dissolving it and collapsing the rock directly into the acidic hell.

Many stone columns, having lost their base, began to majestically descend down. Moreover, the battlefield itself sank a bit when the ground started settling into the pit formed by the last technique.

The underground shifts caused huge spouts on the surface of the acid, spraying droplets of burning liquid, along with a gaseous blend of dissolved plants, soil, and stones, in all directions.

Worse still, all these changes made Jishin, Kensei, and Shin pause, creating new rocks for movement and support. By doing this, they lessened the pressure, and Jirobu did not miss his chance.

No sooner had Stas broken to the surface and taken a breath of fresh air than a wild terror from Leviathan came through their mental bond.

Stas had just begun to turn his head toward the threat, but with a chill, he realized he was too late.

Jirobu was already too close.

The old man's blood-covered face was expressionless. Jishin's sword had left a small cut on his forehead, but it didn't bother the supreme warmaster too much. His bald head gleamed with beads of sweat flying away, but his movements were still surreally fast.

Yet, the axe swinging toward the earthling was undeniably real.

The blade still burned with a sinister light, but Stas was not afraid of the poison, because if the blow landed where the old man was aiming, Ordyntsev wouldn't care about such things anymore.

Something flickered to the side, and Stanislav felt an irresistible force pulling him backward.

A flash of white darted before his eyes and found itself between Stas and Jirobu.

The realization came instantly, but terror crept in gradually, seizing the earthling's soul in its suffocating embrace.

'Levi, no!'

The snake did the only thing she still could in this situation.

Since her telekinesis worked best close to her body, she jumped right towards her master and pushed him aside.

But due to the inertia of the jump, she ended up exactly where Stas should have been.

She had no doubts, and just as years ago, she unhesitatingly traded her life for her master's.

Jirobu extended his hands, still trying to reach the slipping-away earthling, but the axe whistled too far from his body.

Leviathan, however, didn't have any chance to escape.

The green-glowing blade of the axe entered the snake's body and, without stopping for a moment, came out the other side, leaving behind a frozen-in-air red trail of blood droplets, particularly visible against the snow-white scales.

'No…'

Under the force of gravity, the white body plummeted down and disappeared into the swirling and twisting acidic cloud.

The calm gaze of Jirobu Sansa met the icy eyes of Shiro the Serpent.

Their mutual tally continued to grow relentlessly.

However, even with the heart-searing pain of loss, Ordyntsev did not give in to rage. And there was nothing strange about this if one did not forget one important thing.

One only needed to remember why Stanislav's face burned with two inhuman marks, serpentine eyes.

At the very beginning of his journey, the man speculated that there was a correlation between the mutations and the appearance of prana in him. From this, it was not difficult to deduce further and realize that the more prana there was, the more pronounced the mutations would be.

Stas's power grew steadily but surely. His relentless training raised him from a normal person to an ordinary warmaster, and then to an advanced one.

The mutations, grinning with their gruesome smiles, followed along.

The first to change completely were the eyes. If before, if people didn't look closely, they could somehow mistake Stas for an ordinary person, now that path was permanently closed to him.

The resulting serpentine "peepers" unsettled even their owner. Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt like he was in a nightmare where he was turning into a monster for some reason, but the transformation stopped only at the eyes.

But as it became clear later, the changes did not stop there.

Compared to the fairly swarthy locals, Stas had always stood out with his white skin. Many training sessions and outings in the fresh air allowed him to somewhat solve this problem by tanning.

Unfortunately, his new body had a different opinion. The already pale skin became even whiter, resembling that of an exsanguinated corpse. Moreover, he discovered that his skin no longer tanned at all.

Stas was scared that he had become an albino. This carried a whole host of problems, from poor vision to sunburns, but it wasn't the case. Although his skin did not tan, it somehow did not lose melanin.

Though, considering that his hair remained black, the pigment was definitely still in his body, albeit mutated.

The number of scales on his back had grown even more. They did not cause discomfort and felt absolutely natural, but that did not make the change any less vexing.

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And finally, the last, most significant change – the deformation of his personality. What Stas feared the most.

This world was changing him, and the first to be affected were his emotions. Snakes live by instincts. Ordinary snakes, frankly, are incredibly stupid creatures. But despite all their stupidity, they are deadly dangerous.

Now, Stas also knew from experience that snakes are incredibly unemotional.

And now he could answer the question: "What happens if you mix in a volatile cocktail the sharp mind of a human and the instincts and cold-bloodedness of a snake?"

Choking waves of shimmering purple ether struck out from Ordyntsev in all directions. Even in such a situation, Stanislav did not forget to maintain the legend of his lineage.

Yes, the cursed fog turned out to be a little weaker than its original form, but at least possible witnesses, if they survived, would have far fewer questions.

Jirobu frowned. He felt the effect of the serpent-eyed's technique when something started to sap away his prana.

At the same time, attempts to leave the dangerous area or attack the healer were thwarted by the return of Jishin and the others to battle.

Stanislav smiled crookedly. He had spent some time teaching the cursed fog to attack only those he specifically marked. If before the technique of the Deathbringers made an exception only for its owner, now it reluctantly devoured exclusively those indicated.

Thus, everyone else was safe, not paying attention to the clouds of fog flying around, while Jirobu gradually weakened.

Now, the old man no longer had the strength to toss around attackers as before, simultaneously changing his position.

Because of the cruelty and desperation of the fight, it might feel like the battle had been going on for an entire hour, but in reality, less than ten minutes had passed.

However, in the league of supreme warmasters, it was almost an eternity.

No matter how much films and fiction twisted it, any armed conflict between two people is quite short-lived.

Any wound, serious damage, or loss of blood, and the other side's chances plummet rapidly.

A difference in skill levels often proves to be a decisive factor as well.

If a prolonged confrontation emerges, it indicates nothing more than a roughly equal amount of force between opponents. But even such fights are subject to certain limits.

Battles of warmasters are simultaneously incredibly fast and also prolonged due to their resilience.

Four warriors of advanced rank strained their prana and muscles to break through the defense of the aging supreme.

However, even so, it was a struggle.

The old man's gray mustache trembled under gusts of wind, born from the collisions of blades and his axe.

The steel had long blurred in the air into gray stripes, so high was the speed of the fight.

The attackers' faces turned into contorted masks, with nothing human left in them. They craved the death of their adversary more than anything else in life.

Sex, alcohol, delicious food, and parental love all vanished in the maelstrom of furious onslaught.

Only by putting their all into their blades could they achieve even greater success and power.

Surrendering to the flame of battle, they cast aside all humanity in one single desire – to kill. Otherwise, they would be the ones killed.

But each of them felt their own thirst for killing.

Here is Kensei. His mad face is difficult to read, but in reality, his lips are frozen in a smile. Right now, the Sansa standing before him embodies everything he so hates. Kill him and be cleansed – a single thin thought resonates, focused on the tip of his blade.

And there is Shin. The fury of the fight has consumed him, too. But his desire to kill is much darker. Although he strikes, he subconsciously aims where his blows will cause the most pain. This makes him predictable, but he doesn't even notice it, entirely absorbed by the dark impulse.

Jishin was not spared this fate either. He is overwhelmed by unrestrained anger. Too much is mixed here – his disappointment with the clan, his father, his brother, and perhaps this entire world. Right now, he can unleash everything that torments him day by day, and no one will judge him.

The gray-haired old man watches all this, and there is no hatred in his eyes. Moreover, despite the wounds and the severity of the situation, there is something almost impossible to expect – nostalgia.

Jirobu, at different times, had been each of these three. He enjoyed battles when he was young, avenged the murder of his relatives as he got older, and finally fought as if for the last time, watching his clan perish.

At this moment, his soul is filled with strange gratitude. When was the last time he enjoyed his fight?

When could he say that he was even a little happy?

The young men who dared to challenge him gave him this feeling again. Was this not why he still lived?

And he was grateful to them…

Some sixth sense made Jirobu feel the strangeness of sensations and danger. He tried to dodge, but the problem was that he didn't fully realize where exactly the threat was coming from, and his opponents didn't give him a chance to do so.

A sudden pain in his back made the supreme roar furiously and, with all his might, scatter his enemies in order to face the one who dealt the treacherous blow.

Only the culprit immediately retreated, flashing a crooked smirk. Ordyntsev had no intention of competing in weapon-wielding skills with the supreme.

Jirobu failed to punish the insolent coward because his comrades intensified their pressure again.

Stas mocked the old man, continuing his light but so irritating jabs with the spear from behind the others.

A little earlier, when the three of his comrades were absorbed in combat, Ordyntsev was fully focused on fighting. Therefore, the message he had been waiting for so long was not a surprise to him.

'Shiro-kun,' Kaede's voice was heavy, tinted with hidden pain. She, too, had seen what happened to Leviathan. 'Now is the best time. The Sansa clan head is distracted and weakened enough for me to entangle him in illusions. When I give the signal, immediately strike with the spear.'

"Understood." Stas was succinct. He kept moving behind the fighters, trying to choose the best position for the attack. Before that, he discreetly took out a couple of his best poisons and deftly doused the spear tip with them.

The notches he had long made greedily accepted the searing liquid.

'Strike!' Kaede's tense command sounded in Stas's mind like a cannon shot.

The spear, driven by prana-infused muscles, passed under Kensei's arm and stung Jirobu right under the shoulder blade, aiming for the heart.

The axe of the reacting supreme flew higher than necessary, parrying a non-existent thrust.

Even so, the old man sensed something, and the spear tip, though it pierced his back, did not reach the heart, and Stas had to retreat to avoid being cut in half.

Blood pulsed out of the deep wound, torn muscles caused scalding pain, and it was almost impossible to breathe, but even so, Jirobu continued to fight.

The toxins quickly spread through his veins. And although he was a supreme, the overall weakness, blood loss, and a large dose of poison did their job.

Stas was not stingy. The first poison, neuro-paralytic, was freezing the muscles, and the second was meant to attack the heart.

Jirobu's eyes continued to look somewhere ahead, as if already seeing something inaccessible to mere mortals.

And indeed, it was so.

He saw his clan. His children, grandchildren, wife, and concubines - they looked at him with hope. He himself did not notice how new figures stepped forward from behind them.

"Hello, son." A stern-faced warrior looked at Jirobu with scrutiny.

The old man didn't flinch when Kensei's two-handed sword pierced his lung, coming out the other side.

"Hello, grandson." Shin's katana entered the neck and armpit, causing terrible pain and severing key veins, and Stas's spear shattered the spine.

The body of the mighty supreme warmaster froze forever, held by the swords of Shin and Kensei and the spear of the Serpent, while the head rolled off the shoulders and was caught by the mustache by Jishin. Thick drops of blood fell from the prince's sword, and he breathed heavily.

The moment the blood fell into the bubbling acid below, black streaks of smoke would rise up.

It took a full ten seconds before Jirobu's heart stopped beating, and the eyes on the severed head finally stilled.

"Tsk," spat the Avasaki envoy, then abruptly soared up and sped away. Rio did nothing to prevent him from retreating. Nor did Naoki, watching the fleeing bodyguard.

While the supreme warmasters looked quite good, the advanced ones were not so fortunate.

Even remaining on the sidelines, they suffered severe losses from the slashing attacks of the air masters.

Out of thirty warmasters, only fifteen were more or less healthy. The rest were irretrievably dead, dissolving somewhere in the acid. The techniques of the supreme were too strong for regular warmasters to have any chance of survival after being hit.

As for the injured, they were not even hit by the techniques themselves, but by the echoes of the impacts.

Stas, bracing his foot against the back of the dead Sansa clan leader, jerked and pulled out the spear. He was no longer interested in the corpse of the former elder, as the headless body of Jirobu attracted too much attention to be taken without consequences.

Yes, deep down, he wanted to get the entire corpse for experiments, but it was evident that Jishin took the head with the intention of presenting it as proof of his exploit.

And this day promised to become truly legendary. It was rare for an advanced warmaster, even with support, to hold fast and slay a full-fledged experienced supreme in a fair, as far as possible, fight.

Also, one must understand that the names of those who helped him in the killing will not be ignored by rumor either. Each of them will become known, attracting the gaze of all.

Some will look at them with greed, others with hatred, and some with interest. But there will be few indifferent.

However, Stas's future was the least of his concerns at the moment.

Ordyntsev, leaping from one rock to another, hurried toward where he last saw Leviathan fall.

The man cursed himself for deciding to take Levi on such a dangerous mission. He felt in his heart that nothing good would come of it!

Stas was straining his eyes into the swirling and twisting acidic fog, trying to make out a white silhouette.

Reason whispered to him that there was no hope, but he stubbornly continued to search, refusing to believe the terrible truth.

"Shiro!" A sudden cry made his spine turn to stone, for it was Kaede who shouted. "Come here quickly!"