Chapter 42: Boss – Toxicology Scholar Ian (7)

“Come on, Ian!”

“Hurrrrrghhh…”

“Round three begins. There won’t be a fourth!”

“Roooooaaarrr!”

Ian threw back his head and howled to the sky. The rune-wrapped bandages that had once covered his body were all gone. Every eye across his body—save those in his skull—was now sealed shut. More than three-quarters of his flesh had collapsed, and the purifying energy had completely driven out every last trace of his poison. Even now, the blistering heat continued to eat away at his frame. His fur was all gone, his skin carbonizing rapidly—what remained was nothing but a humanoid charred corpse, boiling with burning blood.

There he stood, at the center of this flame-ringed plaza—a skeletal figure wrapped in fire. The image that rose unbidden in my mind: ‘Bruno at the stake.’ But this wasn’t a martyrdom—it was the opposite. The irony stung.

“Look at yourself now.”

I raised my left hand, the tip of the fire-filled Lustrous Core pointing straight at him.

“Look at the carnage you caused, ‘Grand Alchemist’—don’t you find it pathetic!?”

Fire is the purifier of sin. But in his arrogance and wrath, he had flung himself into the blaze—and in the throes of madness, set himself aflame. What a bitter joke.

“I don’t care what you’ve been through. I don’t care what excuses you have. You don’t get to do whatever you want anymore!”

“Hsssssss…”

“This—this is your execution pyre!”

“Raaaaaaahhh!”

His blood ignited beneath his feet, and the ten meters between us vanished in an instant. Danger screamed through my bones, but—

“Too obvious!”

The moment his blood ignited, I’d already shifted to the side. Ian’s movements were fast, but the explosion-driven charge made it hard for him to control his momentum. His agility had actually plummeted. A straightforward rush like that—if you could read the wind-up, the force meant nothing.

I sidestep it.

The Lustrous Core absorbed more flame.

And with my right hand, I slashed.

The silvery arc of my runic dagger clashed with his flame-wreathed left arm. A long gash opened along his forearm, and the blood that sprayed out ignited on contact with air. At that moment, I drove forward with the Lustrous Core dagger in my left hand—the stored fire within it collided with Ian’s burning blood. Two streams of flame twisted and tangled into a roaring, blinding clash.

“Skreeeaaah!”

Ian spun like a top, his right arm—whipping blood like a flaming whip—lashed toward me. Sparks burst, searing my vision, and scalding blood splattered toward my face. I threw my short cloak between us. The chieftain’s lingering blessing on the fabric barely held up against the inferno, shielding me for just a breath—and, just as planned, obscuring his view.

From behind the cloth—strike.

My runic dagger tore through the cloak and into his claw at point-blank range. His ruined body could no longer withstand the weapon’s edge. Its tip pierced through his left palm and shot toward his throat.

Shfff!

But suddenly, his left arm surged with explosive force—likely triggered by a bloodburst from within. Though my dagger was still skewering his hand, he used that same arm to hoist me—blade, body, and all—and hurled me with terrifying strength.

I felt the ground vanish beneath me. Caught between the opposing forces of momentum and gravity, I traced a burning arc through the air—flying back over ten meters before I crashed down again.

“Hssshhhaaagggh!”

He let out a guttural bellow, half pain, half unhinged rage. Crouching low like a sprinter at the starting line, his blood once more gathered, bubbling, beneath his feet. At that same moment, I landed, already shifting my stance—my left hand raised, the Lustrous Core dagger pulsing with compressed flame.

“Come on then!”

“Skreaaaaahhh!”

The compressed fire burst outward from my blade—and Ian rocketed toward me in an explosion of heat. His arms, ablaze, were like the claws of a demon dragging its prey to hell.

A human meteor barreled toward me.

I, with fire-spitting blade in hand, charged forward as well.

Amid the scattering embers and swirls of flame, we collided.

***

Man and monster clashed—one wielding fire, the other burning alive. They seemed alike, yet in truth stood at opposite ends of a scale.

The erupting flames scorched the human, leaving charred streaks across his face. His clothing was almost entirely burned away. But the monster fared no better; its right arm was nearly severed. The blood spilling out ignited on contact with air, torching the ground and further hastening the collapse of its already-decaying body.

But neither of them slowed for even a second. Human and monster were locked in another savage exchange. Fire spewed from the monster’s gaping chest wound as it lashed out in a frenzy with two flaming claws, raking burning arcs through the air. The man wove between the strikes, parrying with measured precision—his Lustrous Core dagger flaring to cancel the flames, his enchanted short blade lunging in the instant an opening appeared.

This young man fought the flame-wreathed fiend as an equal. With a human body, human skill, human will, and human resolve—he battled, unflinching, against a creature that seemed plucked straight from the depths of hell.

Jols, now charred down one side, could no longer move. He lay quietly at the edge of the field.

A devout witness to it all.

He believed—he knew—he was witnessing a miracle.

The divine envoy, chosen by the gods, and the Mist King monster, locked in a final duel within a burning arena.

What kind of conviction did this youth carry into battle?

For the innocent?

For fallen comrades?

For his own honor?

Jols didn’t know.

But the sheer, magnificent sight before him was enough worth recording with his own eyes to pass on through generations.

“Zhou Yuhong is different from the others,” the chieftain had once told Jols during a conversation.

“Because he… has talent?… Charisma?”

“Yes, and no. He has something, something deeper. A quality I can’t quite name. But it sets him apart on a fundamental level. Even I cannot describe it clearly.”

“What is it… then?”

“If you’re lucky, you might witness it for yourself.”

And now, Jols had become that witness. The sole witness of this duel.

But was witnessing all he could do?

Was that truly enough?

No.

“There’s still… something I… can do.”

***

“Raaaaahhh!”

I parried with the Lustrous dagger, unleashed a burst of flames to target an opening, and slashed with the runic dagger.

As the dagger and its talons locked in a desperate struggle, it spat a bolt of blood-fire from its chest; I neutralized the spray with my own flames once more, but it used the recoil to leap back and create distance. I took the initiative to close in. It roared, slamming its claws down at me. In that split second, I leaped, evading the inferno erupting from the ground, and swung the flame-empowered dagger straight at the monster.

“Skreeeeeaaah!”

Ian’s body was deteriorating rapidly, but its combat ferocity only grew. It abandoned all defense, using explosive flame bursts to propel its body, going all-in on pure offense. No matter the injury, it never backed down—and what little blood remained in its ruined body now burned even more violently.

It was at its limit—and so was I.

I didn’t even know how many burns and cuts I’d taken. Every muscle screamed in agony, every tendon ached in protest. My lungs were filled with smoke, my eyes stung from ash and soot.

But I knew I couldn’t stop.

I mustn’t stop!

In this kind of high-stakes battle, to stop was to fall. The one who slowed down first would lose.

So both Ian and I pushed beyond our limits, squeezing out every last drop of strength, ignoring our bodies’ pain, sustaining this hellish intensity through sheer willpower alone. I couldn’t stop—I wouldn’t stop—and above all, I couldn’t afford to lose.

With a raw scream from my scorched throat, I summoned a final burst of strength and deflected both its arms. For a single moment—its defenses collapsed. I poured the last of my strength into my right hand, my dagger gleaming brighter than ever before, and I thrust it straight at its chest.

But—

Boom!

In that instant, both of Ian’s legs exploded—literally exploded! The muscles ruptured. All the blood in its legs blasted out at once, launching its body skyward. With a crash, it landed on the smoldering remains of a nearby hut. Another explosion rang out—and it streaked across the field like a comet, bounding to the roof of a structure on the opposite side, then leaping again.

W-What—!?

It had become a blazing blur—its form bouncing through the battlefield, from rooftops to walls, to trees, to fences, to the ground and back again. It moved so fast I could barely track it. Faster and faster, it darted through the arena—a net of flame, closing in on me.

Damn it! It’s building momentum—using the ricochets to boost speed again and again. It’s aiming for a single, final, fatal strike.

“Tch!”

I reversed my grip on both blades, muscles taut like drawn wire. My senses sharpened beyond anything I’d known.

Upper left—

Upper right—

Directly behind—

Left—

Front—

Above—

Below—

Trace it—read it—there would be one opening, one vulnerable moment. That’s when it would strike to kill.

There!

A blast rang out from the far-left wall. My left eye caught the blur charging straight for me. In that instant, I unleashed all remaining fire from the Lustrous Core dagger, twisted my body to the right, and slashed with both blades.

Its charred face filled my vision.

Booooommm!!!

***

My mind went completely blank.

The searing heat and agony coursing through my body told me one thing—I was still alive.

But it felt like my body had fallen apart.

I could feel the scorched, blistering heat of the ground beneath my knees. To my surprise, I was still half-kneeling. I hadn’t fully collapsed.

“Ugh… ngh…”

As expected, once the movement stopped, the backlash of pain and exhaustion came crashing in, sapping almost all my strength. My vision was a blur. My body felt hollow, like something had scooped everything out of me. My right hand touched the dirt, and my fingertips brushed against the runic dagger. The Lustrous Core dagger had been flung off somewhere I couldn’t see. As for my left arm…

Left arm?

My foggy brain issued the command, and I barely managed to glance down at it.

“…Ah…”

My elbow had bent the wrong way completely—shattered. Even the slightest movement sent spears of pain stabbing into my brain.

Searing pain…

Wait—what about Ian?

The spike of pain snapped me back into focus, and my vision sharpened slightly.

Ian was getting up from the ground in front of me.

His body was nearly charcoal. Only a few dying flames clung to his frame. He was far beyond the point of collapse.

But he was the one getting up.

While I remained on my knees, it was Ian who stood first.

The one who stands—wins.

And now, the victor would deliver judgment upon the defeated.

“Rrghh—Rrrhh—Rrhh—Rrrrhhh—Roooaaaaarrr!”

Ian unleashed a deafening roar. His ruined arm, which should’ve been unusable, moved again, and the very last of his blood ignited. He began stalking toward me—closer, closer, closer!

In that moment, I became fully lucid. Stand up—stand up, Zhou Yuhong! Fight back! My fingers twitched erratically. I don’t know how many times I tried before I finally managed to grip the dagger. My left arm, broken beyond use, hung useless at my side. I pushed up with my scorched legs. Get up! Now! Stand!

Too slow.

He was already upon me.

His flame-wrapped claw came crashing down toward my skull.

Teeth clenched, heart pounding, I swung the dagger up at his chest, ready to die with him if I had to.

“Hey! Over Here!”

Ian abruptly retreated.

He jumped back with uncanny speed, putting distance between us—then looked over his shoulder.

“That thing… is important to you… isn’t it!?”

Jols.

The man who had been at death’s door was now standing upright, next to a burning structure.

In his hand was the experimental log, the one I had thrown earlier, the record that contained Ian’s entire life’s work.

Ian stared at him, eye sockets flaring with pure, visceral rage. But Jols showed not even a flicker of fear.

“If it means that… much to you… then come… and get it!”

With that, he raised his arm high and hurled the stack of papers into the fire.

“Skreeeeeeeaaaaahhh!”

Ian let out the most blood-curdling shriek of all. He abandoned me instantly and lunged for Jols—for the paper that had already fallen into the flames. But what did it matter? A few sheets of paper were destroyed the moment they touched fire. Jols collapsed, laughing, while Ian, howling in madness, charged after him.

And Jols was still laughing.

You idiot… What are you doing?

Our eyes met in that moment.

There was no hesitation in his gaze. Only a single silent message formed with his lips,

“Now.”

I don’t know where the strength came from.

Was it adrenaline? A final surge of will?

Before I realized it, I had launched myself forward with all the power I could muster in a desperate sprint, the fastest I had ever run.

In front of me was Ian.

In front of Ian was the collapsed, defenseless Jols.

Duel? Victory? Defeat?

All of it vanished from my mind.

Only one thought filled my being.

I will not—

watch—

another innocent—

die before my eyes—again!

“Skreeeeeaaah!”

“Iaaaaan!”

Ian lunged—aiming to rip Jols apart in a single blow! But Jols didn’t flinch. He looked death in the eye, stared straight at the claw that came crashing down toward his skull.

“Stay! Awayyy!!!”

“Skreee!?”

“Divine envoy!”

No hesitation. No time to hesitate.

I threw myself forward, slamming into Ian’s back. His swing veered off, claws scraping past Jols’ forehead instead of caving in his skull.

Ian roared and thrashed, trying to shake me loose. My right hand gripped the dagger—too busy to hold on—but no matter.

My broken left arm hooked around his neck from behind, locking his throat in place. I bit down hard on the fabric of my own sleeve with my teeth, holding tight! His blood was nearly burned out. Only the wound in his chest still sputtered scorching blood. His back no longer spewed fire—but it still burned.

Agony exploded down my arm. My already-broken limb now twisted even further, but I held on with everything I had. His thrashing became more violent, but I refused to let go.

“Raaaaahhh!”

Die!

At the peak of his scream, my right hand moved—just like with that first lizardman, I drove the dagger straight into his wide-open mouth. Deep—deeper—straight into the brain. His scream turned to a gurgle. I clung to his back, biting down, locking my broken arm around his throat—and rammed the runic dagger again and again into his skull.

Harder! Deeper! Hard enough to tear every last muscle in my body!

Every pain—

Every grudge—

Every sin—

Right here—settled in blood.

“Gu—Graaarghhh—Gruuuhhh—Sss—Skreeeeeaaah!”

His screech reached a crescendo. I roared back—and with one final thrust, the blade pierced all the way through the back of his skull. Flesh torn, bone shattered, brain matter skewered—the central nervous system completely destroyed from within.

“Go to hell and continue your research there, Iaaan!”

With a sharp snap, the tip of the runic dagger burst clean out the back of his head.

The struggle ended.

Ian’s body finally stopped moving.

What remained was nothing more than a human-shaped hunk of scorched, crumbling charcoal.

A gust of wind blew in from afar, carrying with it a force I couldn’t comprehend. A mighty wind that scattered the fire, swept away the smoke, and tore through the region’s lingering gray haze. The fog that had plagued this land for ten years was lifted at last.

Everything—the corpse, the flame, the ashes—was consumed by that wind.

And I…

My consciousness finally gave out.

My mind was pulled into a deep, black void.

And before the darkness filled me completely, only three words remained in my heart: It’s over.

At last—

It’s over.

~~~~~

=====【Mist King has been slain】=====
=====【FOG-PURIFIED】=====

Zhou Yuhong vs. Fog King · Toxicology Scholar Ian
Zhou Yuhong — WIN

Achievement Unlocked: The Purifier

Zhou Yuhong
Enemies Defeated: 39
People Rescued: 17
Players Killed: 0
Total Score: 1910
Ranking: 3 / 98,021