Chapter 13: Blood Debt Paid in Blood (Please Continue Reading)

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Seeing Baron Mark’s confident expression, Ron felt an urge to remind him not to raise such a terrifying flag.

But when he saw how eagerly the baron wished to be recorded as a “saint” after death, he swallowed the words instead.

Silently supporting everyone’s dreams was Ron’s creed in life.

The boy’s silence pleased Marcus, and his tone gradually turned teasing.

“Young man, don’t be so stubborn. Let bygones be bygones. Constantly digging into the past will do no one any good.”

With that, he ignored Ron’s reaction, sauntered back behind his desk, and gently pressed his temples.

Perhaps it was simply his age. Lately, he had been suffering from frequent headaches, and the baron needed this sort of treatment to ease his mind.

“Darling, your head is hurting again? Shall I call the doctor?”

Seeing her husband’s tightly furrowed brows, the silent Elena suddenly extended her fair, slender fingers and began gently massaging Marcus’s head.

As she pressed his temples, she also cast flirtatious glances at Ron, a delicate flush of excitement rising across her fine features.

What a shameless woman!

Ron twitched the corner of his mouth.

“The doctor…” The baron hesitated.

“He’s a new physician I specifically hired from the old capital. I hear he’s highly skilled at treating headaches…” Elena had not even finished speaking when she chuckled again and tilted her chin toward Ron.

“Perhaps you could let this little fellow have a look at you as well?”

“Even Olivia cannot praise his healing magic enough. She insisted that I give it a try. It took me a great deal of effort to persuade her to lend him to me~”

Even that legendary figure had praised him so highly?

At her words, Marcus turned his gaze back to Ron.

Persuading people to do good and repent of their sins—this ancient trick, used for thousands of years, was beneath even the priests of the Holy Light Church.

He had not seen someone so naïve in many years, and for a moment, he found Ron amusing.

“Perhaps I can have your new doctor examine me first, and then let this… er, ‘Gandalf’ treat me.”

The baron’s tone was arrogant. He did not ask Ron’s opinion, as though serving him were simply what Ron was supposed to do.

Having made up his mind, he immediately told Elena to summon the physician whom she had hired from the old capital at great expense.

Ron had nothing to say about it.

He sat there quietly, completely unconcerned with Marcus’s thoughts, the baron’s affected and ugly manner, or the mockery hidden in his words.

What truly concerned the boy was what sort of brain specialist Elena had hired—one capable of challenging his divine-level healing magic.

Creak—

The dark oak door, carved with intricate patterns, was quietly pushed open.

A man in his twenties entered the lavishly decorated office alone, carrying a medical case.

His appearance was ordinary, and the exposed skin of his hands was unnaturally pale.

From Ron’s observations, it seemed the man was even wearing a wig.

Tsk…

To have contracted the terminal illness of baldness at such a young age—this physician was clearly a man of extraordinary skill.

When Marcus saw the doctor approach, he asked in a slightly muddled voice, “Are you the physician Elena hired from the old capital?”

“Yes, Your Excellency. I have long heard of your reputation.”

The young doctor smiled and quickly came before the desk, beginning a thorough examination.

In barely a few seconds, he reached his conclusion and declared confidently:

“The baron’s headaches are caused by wind-cold, and the root of the disease has penetrated deep into his skull.”

“To eradicate it, he must first drink a sleeping potion. Then, his skull must be split open with a sharp knife so the lesion can be removed. Only then can he be cured.”

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What a miracle doctor!

Hearing this, Ron praised him inwardly.

Such a bold treatment plan was undoubtedly the first of its kind in this world.

Every outstanding physician with ambition was, after all, someone who dared to break through convention.

The blond boy could already imagine how advanced the medical field of the Kingdom of Orlan would become under this man’s leadership.

“Hahahaha…”

“Split open my skull and remove the lesion?”

“Very good. Very, very good…”

Baron Marcus laughed heartily, though there was a peculiar sarcasm in his tone.

“If my skull is split open with a sharp knife, how could I possibly survive?”

“If you know people will die, then why did you deliberately open the gates and release the alchemical waste gas?!”

A furious roar suddenly shook the office.

Ron saw the fat on Marcus’s face tremble as his body instinctively leaned back, trying to create some distance.

But the physician was faster.

A flash of cold light swept past. No one knew where the blood- and rust-stained scalpel had come from.

In an instant, it sliced through Marcus’s eyelid and continued upward, carving a long, narrow wound across his forehead.

Blood gushed forth, exposing white bone.

The intense pain forced Marcus to suck in a sharp breath.

He had undergone rigorous knightly training in his youth, but he was old now.

Even though he had once stepped into the supernatural realm, only a tenth or two of his former strength remained.

Yet even so, Marcus did not give up.

He turned and rolled away from the sharp blade, managing only to pull a longsword gleaming with cold light from beneath his desk.

A whirling slash!

A knight’s signature technique blossomed within the office, the pressure sending documents fluttering with a rustle.

Clang!

In the next instant, the rust- and blood-stained scalpel seemed able to find the weaknesses of all things. It actually caught the longsword in midair despite its tremendous speed.

For a time, neither the longsword nor the scalpel could gain the upper hand.

Only then did Ron belatedly react with “astonishment.”

He had thought the doctor’s earlier action was simply his unique method of treatment.

As an outsider in the field of magic, Ron knew that one should not casually mock others merely because they were different. It was impolite.

So he had honestly and dutifully stood by and watched.

But now, after recalling the doctor’s furious shout, the blond boy had already guessed his identity.

Xilan Valentine!

What was he doing here?

Ron did not know how the “Truth Madman” had made it through security so tight that not even a fly could get inside.

He did not know why the doctor Elena had hired had been taken over by Xilan Valentine.

But the blond boy knew that he had to act.

Should he help Xilan Valentine, who had suffered a tragic past but had also caused numerous tragedies, achieve his revenge?

Or should he help the black-hearted, cuckolded Baron Marcus survive this crisis?

In an instant, Ron had his answer.

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“I’ll help you!”

With a soft shout from the boy, a ray of holy light suddenly appeared in his palm.

Baron Marcus’s expression brightened with delight. He recognized it as the holy-light healing art known to every priest of the Church.

To be honest, his injuries were not particularly severe. But the agony in his left eye prevented him from seeing, and his strength had been greatly reduced as a result.

Moreover, he remembered Elena saying that this young man’s healing magic was praised even by a legendary figure.

As long as he was healed, he could survive this crisis.

His thoughts flashed like lightning. Just as Baron Marcus was about to move, the enemy locked against him suddenly broke away and charged toward Ron.

Clearly, Xilan Valentine had also realized that this boy could not be allowed to live.

The brain specialist moved his legs and sprinted toward Ron with all his might, but someone was faster.

The seventy-six-year-old baron seemed to have been granted a second life. With a speed utterly incompatible with his age, he darted in front of the boy.

At the same time, he swung his longsword to drive back the enemy, presenting his own back to Ron.

What a moving scene!

Protecting the weak and displaying the spirit of a knight—in that moment, the old baron seemed to feel hot blood surging faintly through his veins.

At that instant, the light in Ron’s palm erupted.

Holy light swallowed the baron’s back and engulfed the entire room.

Marcus, however, saw nothing at all. He merely staggered for a moment before sinking into endless darkness.

Ron stared in disbelief as Baron Marcus collapsed into his arms and breathed his last.

He could not understand why Marcus had died after Ron had clearly cast a healing spell. Had the baron’s trembling hand failed to block the enemy’s scalpel?

Soon, the blond boy arrived at an answer.

It must have been because he had run too fast…

He had pulled a muscle.

Marcus was old, after all. One never knew whether an accident or tomorrow would arrive first.

Looking at the corpse in his arms, its eyes open in death and blood spilling from its mouth, Ron was overcome with grief.

“Old Horse… Ah, Old Horse!”

He cried out loudly, leaving even the “Truth Madman” standing nearby momentarily stunned.

Although Ron could barely bear the departure of his sworn brother, this was no time for mourning.

He took the longsword from Marcus’s hand and pointed its tip directly at the bewildered Xilan Valentine.

Ron was going to avenge the baron!

“Holy Sword Art!”

The magic within the boy’s body surged rapidly, resonating with the elements of holy light.

The Holy Sword Art, whose proficiency had already reached mastery, was worlds apart from when he had first begun learning it.

Ron felt his arm grow heavy. A hideous, large-caliber hand cannon suddenly appeared in his palm.

A terrifying gleam of cold light flashed across the metal muzzle, causing Xilan Valentine’s pupils to contract. He stood frozen in place, momentarily unsure which direction he should dodge.

Because he was already within seven steps!

Bang—

Bang—

Bang—

[You used the Holy Sword Art and killed a “Truth Madman.” Your Holy Sword Art proficiency has increased by 70.]

A thunderous explosion tore through the clouds. All evil was judged by the holy light!

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