Chapter 399: Healing on the Battlefield
The chaotic skirmish within the Epis Port Void escalated into absolute bedlam. Eous, the small but surprisingly destructive Bangboo, unleashed a relentless bombardment of self-destructing phantom projections. Explosions rocked the cavernous Hollow, tearing a massive, smoking rift straight through the surging ocean of parasitic Ethereals. Though fresh waves of twisted monstrosities continued to flood the corrupted space, pouring in from every conceivable angle, the Bangboo's explosive barrage granted the vanguard a desperately needed moment to breathe.
Dan Heng, Lumine, March 7th, Yanagi, and Soukaku anchored their respective positions, forming an impenetrable defensive perimeter. They moved with lethal precision, carving through the parasitic Ethereals that lunged hungrily from the shadows. The sharp whistle of polearms and blades cutting through the stagnant air collided with the deafening crackle of elemental detonations. The agonizing shrieks of dying monsters echoed endlessly, creating a deafening cacophony of violence.
Yet, amidst this grueling, high-intensity slaughter, the Hollow's oppressive atmosphere began to take its toll. Harumasa drew his bowstring taut, his eyes narrowing as he tracked a teleporting Thanatos attempting to flank them. He released his grip. The arrow streaked through the gloom, piercing the creature's armored joint with pinpoint accuracy. The Thanatos staggered, its scythe-like appendage dropping just long enough for Yanagi to close the distance in a blur of motion, her blade cleanly severing the monster's core.
The moment the shot landed, Harumasa's posture collapsed. He hunched forward, his shoulders heaving as a fit of violent, uncontrollable coughing racked his chest. The harsh, rattling sound clawed its way out of his throat—a desperate, painful gasp for air that felt jarringly out of place against the backdrop of clashing steel and roaring monsters.
His complexion, normally composed, had drained to a sickly, ashen gray. Fine beads of cold sweat gathered at his temples, tracking down his jawline. His knuckles were white as he gripped his bow, the weapon trembling erratically in his hands as the spasms tore through his lungs.
The ambient aether energy within this specific Hollow had mutated into something suffocating. Amplified by the ominous "Forging" process of the Bringer, the air itself felt like a dense, corrosive sludge. For a sniper who relied on absolute mental clarity and the precise manipulation of energy to land his shots, the atmospheric pressure alone was agonizing.
Harumasa's constitution had never been his strongest asset. Enduring this toxic environment while maintaining a relentless combat pace was tantamount to breathing in liquid poison. Invisible tendrils of corruptive aether seeped through his pores and down his trachea with every labored breath, aggressively aggravating the old, hidden ailments that had plagued his body for years.
Liquid fire seemed to pool in his lungs. Each desperate inhale felt like inhaling crushed glass, sending sharp, stinging flares of pain radiating through his chest. Dark, ominous spots danced at the periphery of his vision, threatening to drag him into unconsciousness.
A sudden rush of displaced air signaled a small figure zipping to his side. Paimon hovered at his shoulder, her tiny hands fluttering anxiously as she watched the archer struggle to draw a single clean breath. Her usually cheerful face pinched with genuine distress as she took in his violent tremors. Refusing to stand by helplessly, she clenched her right fist. A flash of strange, pure silver light materialized in her palm, solidifying into the metallic weight of her "Optimization Power" wrench.
"Hey! You sound terrible!" Paimon brandished the heavy wrench, her high-pitched voice dropping into a rare tone of absolute seriousness. "Is the aether energy getting to you? You look like you're about to pass out! Hold still and let me take a look! I'll have you know, when it comes to fixing weird energy corrosion stuff, I, Paimon, am a total professional!"
Harumasa swallowed hard, fighting down another wave of nausea and coughing. He forced his heavy eyelids open, his blurry gaze focusing on the floating fairy. She was hovering there with absolute solemnity, gripping a literal maintenance tool, offering to 'fix' him. The sheer absurdity of the situation forcibly dragged a weak, bitter smile onto his pale lips.
He wiped a fleck of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his glove. His voice was a ruined, raspy scrape. "Paimon...? Are you... planning to use a wrench to cure a respiratory failure?" He shook his head, the motion sending a fresh wave of dizziness crashing through his skull. "I appreciate the sentiment... but I'm not a mechanical Bangboo. You can't just tighten a loose screw and expect my lungs to work again. If this is a joke... your timing leaves a lot to be desired."
His words dripped with a weary, helpless disbelief, heavily colored by the agonizing burn in his chest and the relentless pressure of the surrounding horde. A floating, pint-sized sprite wielding a mechanic's tool as medical equipment felt like a fever dream, completely detached from the brutal, blood-soaked reality of the Hollow.
"I'm not joking!" Paimon stomped her tiny boots against the empty air, her frustration bubbling over. Her face scrunched up with fierce determination. "This isn't just some ordinary wrench you buy at a hardware store! It's made of 'Optimization Power'! You just have to trust me, okay? It'll be super fast!" She leaned in closer, her large eyes pleading with him, radiating an urgent, unfiltered sincerity.
Harumasa stared into those wide, earnest eyes. There was no mockery there, no trickery. Meanwhile, the nausea churning in his gut was growing impossible to ignore, and a deep, leaden weakness had begun to paralyze his drawing arm. As an elite operative of Hollow Special Operations Section 6, he understood the harsh mathematics of survival better than anyone. Out here, a drop in physical condition didn't just mean a missed shot; it meant a gruesome death.
He shifted his gaze toward the massive, pale cocoon pulsating in the distance. The grotesque structure was still deep in its "Forging" cycle, radiating waves of sickening, ominous energy. He then looked at the endless tide of Ethereals crashing against their defensive line. Cold, hard logic dictated that he would become dead weight within the next three minutes if he didn't do something.
Maybe the aether corruption had finally rotted his critical thinking skills. Maybe the raw, unfiltered concern on the little fairy's face broke through his cynical defenses. Or perhaps, backed into a desperate corner, he had simply decided to gamble his life on the sheer, logic-defying miracles these otherworldly travelers casually threw around every day. Moving almost as if possessed, Harumasa let out a ragged wheeze and gave a slow nod.
"...Fine. Then... I'll leave it in your hands, Paimon." His voice was little more than a fragile whisper, stripped of its usual dry confidence, yet the resolve beneath it was firm. "Just... do me a favor. Be gentle with that thing. My body... cough... probably won't survive a heavy-handed 'repair' job right now."
He attempted a dry smirk to defuse the grim atmosphere, but another violent spasm of coughing ruined the effect. Paimon completely ignored his warnings about being gentle. In her mind, getting tapped by the Optimization Power was the most comfortable, purifying experience in the universe. Why would it hurt?
Assuming the archer was just being a baby about a little pain, she puffed out her chest, adopting an incredibly smug, leave-it-to-the-expert expression. "Don't you worry your pretty head! It'll be over in a flash, and you won't feel a thing!"
The moment the words left her mouth, Paimon gripped the oversized silver wrench with both hands. Her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a terrifyingly intense focus. A faint, ethereal light ignited in her pupils. Without any warning, countdown, or medical preamble, she hoisted the heavy tool and swung it directly down toward Harumasa's forehead.
Harumasa's eyes practically bulged out of his skull. He hadn't expected blunt-force trauma as a medical treatment. He flinched violently, bracing his neck for a skull-cracking impact—but the agonizing crunch of metal on bone never came.
The very millisecond the silver steel made contact with his skin, the wrench lost all physical solidity. Like a beam of moonlight melting smoothly into a calm lake, the metallic tool bypassed his skull entirely, silently and weightlessly sinking straight into his head.
An explosive wave of anomalous energy immediately followed. A majestic, complex magic circle—spanning nearly two meters in diameter and woven from complex, deep geometric runes—flared to life directly beneath Harumasa's boots, painting the cavern floor in brilliant gold.
The golden array began to rotate at a steady, rhythmic pace. It radiated a deep warmth, a pure, unadulterated surge of vitality and Order that aggressively pushed back the filthy, chaotic aether choking the Hollow. Simultaneously, a massive, half-meter-long phantom projection of Paimon's silver wrench materialized just above the archer's head, spinning clockwise with mechanical precision.
With every rotation of the spectral tool, showers of brilliant golden sparks erupted from the ethereal connection point between the wrench and Harumasa's body, drifting upward like glowing embers caught in an updraft.
"What in the world...?" Yanagi, having just cleanly decapitated two Farbauti, snapped her head around. Nearby, Soukaku paused mid-swing, her massive battle flag halting the localized ice storm she had been whipping up. Both Section 6 operatives were instantly drawn to the blinding flash of golden light and the overwhelming surge of pure energy.
Moving with practiced synchronization, they dispatched the remaining stragglers in their immediate sector and fell back to Harumasa's position to provide cover. But as they took in the sight of the glowing golden runes, the giant spectral wrench ratcheting above their teammate's head, and the tiny fairy hovering nearby with a look of absolute concentration, both elite warriors froze in sheer bewilderment.
Yanagi's sharp eyes widened, a complex mix of shock and deep suspicion flashing across her usually stoic features. The sheer purity of the light, the ancient, solemn authority radiating from the geometric array... it forcefully yanked her memories back to Mount Yunkui. It felt identical to the impressive moments when Master Yixuan would invoke his highest-tier purification and blessing talismans.
While the visual execution was wildly different—Master Yixuan certainly never summoned a giant, glowing mechanic's wrench to fix someone's soul—the fundamental essence of the energy was unmistakable. It was righteous, unyielding, and possessed the absolute authority to scour away corruption and restore perfect Order.
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