251 Death's Doctor
“Do it now…! Hit him! Use everything you’ve got–even if it takes me with him!” Mallan shouted.
The unexpected selflessness was a surprise from the usually stoic, serious man, but the situation was pressing enough that this certainly seemed like the only moment to take advantage of it. Jeong-Hui and Yeong-Un hesitated, not knowing what they could even use in that moment to capitalize on a ‘lethal attack’, but the one who came forward was Guozhi.
The white-haired man with cosmic eyes reinforced his right hand in celestial energy, holding it by his hip as he focused an ungodly amount of power into his knuckles.
“You have my respect, Mallan,” Guozhi said.
Mallan gritted his teeth, “–Just make sure you kill this bastard!”
With that said, Guozhi finished condensing the unequivocal force into his fist before thrusting it forward with a release of energy that rapidly parted the air, causing Jeong-Hui’s ears to ring with a flash of light blaring out.
It was a success.
The pivotal attack unleashed by the Xianxia System user’s fist blew a perfect hole straight through the stomachs of both the Emperor and Mallan, carving up the marble flooring and piercing a clear hole through the back of the throne room as well.
“…It’s done,” Guozhi stated.
Mallan slowly fell backward, landing against the bloodied marble with the light leaving his eyes within moments as his innards were obliterated by his sacrificial stay.
They all breathed a sigh of relief; those left standing, anyway.
Yeong-Un was still standing there with his blades held, trembling in a mixture of emotions. It wasn’t too far off for Jeong-Hui either, who didn’t know what to say or even think. Archie sat there in silence.
Falling to his knees, Sol’s System reverted as he quietly sobbed, keeling over in anguish.
Standing as he released a slow exhale, Guozhi looked back at the others, “…Not all victories are without sacrifices. Still, we surmounted the obstacle in front of–”
Before Guozhi could finish, his head was lobbed off in a flash as the figure of the Great Emperor loomed over his headless body, breathing heavily as blood seeped from his lips.
“You mongrels…!” Emperor Jiao-Long spewed with bloodshot eyes.
The first thought that came to the survivors’ minds was that the Great Emperor had rejuvenated his injuries, though it was clear the hole was still present through his gut.
He’s still moving off of sheer will….? Just die already! Jeong-Hui thought.
It seemed all four of them shared the same sentiment, simply being done with it all as they rushed towards the Great Emperor as both sides had their final stand.
Archie extended his hand with the intent to manifest a familiar, but the emperor caught on, blitzing past the others and grasping Archie’s face in his hand, slamming him into the wall and splattering his head against the quartz.
“Archie–!!!” Jeong-Hui yelled out.
There was no time for emotion, and even less for speech as before he could so much as blink, Jiao-Long sprinted with that insane agility of his, using a liar against Yeong-Un as a stomach-dropping crack sounded out.
Before he realized it, all that was left was himself and Sol, who stood before the half-dead emperor who was soaked in blood of his own and not.
“…Jeong-Hui…” Sol said his name in a tremble.
“–” It took him a moment to even recognize that Sol had spoken as he was in shock, “…Yeah?”
“I love you, man,” Sol told him with a forced, quivering smile.
Before he could even say anything back, it seemed Sol recognized what was about to happen as the emperor pierced his hand straight through Sol’s chest, skewering his heart with surgical precision.
“…Sol…? Sol–!” Jeong-Hui screamed.
All alone now, he had nobody to lean on or any hope to latch onto. There wasn’t any ounce of fight left in his body as he’d lost everything. Nothing was there to fight for.
As the Great Emperor approached the red-haired adolescent who’d fallen to his knees, the throat-cutting swipe of his hand seemed more of a pity kill than anything else.
Utter failure.
There was nothing he could do, and nothing he contributed. Above all else, Jeong-Hui was a failure.
That is what he died believing, and the final thought he’d carry with him into the eternal darkness that awaited.
He accepted it. It was something he felt he should have welcomed a long time ago: “a permanent rest.”
I lost it all. Again, everything slipped right through my fingers, no matter how much I tried to hold onto everything. Even a single spec of happiness–that, too, slipped past, he thought.
[But that’s not what happened.]
It was a skill he thought to simply be ‘without use’; one he had gained a long time prior without discovering a use for it. Yet in the face of everlasting darkness, it awakened at last.
[Death’s Doctor]
A one-time ability that revealed itself only when his health reached rock bottom, surfacing only moments before he was to be ferried off through the Styx.
No, he thought.
His eyes opened as he found himself lying against the floor with the warmth of blood behind his head; it was his own, yet here he was, breathing again.
Even his own ability to simply fade away was taken from him as the ability stitched his wounds together in an instant with pitch-black, mystical threads that weaved his flesh together seamlessly.
It wasn’t utterly perfect; though his flesh was mended and returned to peak condition, patchwork stitches were left on his face almost as a reminder of his proximity to death.
Why am I alive? He questioned.
As he laid there, dumbound of his own inability to perish, he found himself disgusted by the sight and smell of the marble chamber; it was eerily quiet now, save for the jingle of the emperor’s lavish attire and his footsteps retreating to his throne. It seemed the emperor was ignorant of the man’s revival, though that was to be expected as Jeong-Hui wasn’t even aware of it before it came to be.
…I don’t deserve this–why am I the last one, always? He thought.