The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

This question was like a poisoned dagger, piercing straight to the heart. The faces of several senior elders changed drastically. The truth? They knew perfectly well—that divine oracle was a fabrication they had created to maintain their own power!

They feared that if Russell succeeded in uniting all the city-states, it would completely undermine their power. But the truth must never be spoken!

“Mr. Russell,” the gentle elder’s smile stiffened as he tried to evade the question, “you are well aware that Janus’s oracles are always obscure and difficult to understand. How dare we mortals presume to interpret their meaning? As a city-state of one of the three Titans of Fate, we are merely…”

“Oh?” Russell interrupted him, his smile becoming unusually warm. “So, you admit that Janus did indeed give an oracle about this matter?”

“Uh… naturally, that is the will of the Titans…” The gentle elder followed up, eager to distance himself from the situation.

“That’s not right,” Russell’s smile vanished instantly, his eyes sharp as knives. “I just… came out of Janus’s room and personally questioned this Gate Titan.”

He stepped forward, his voice low but firm: "His answer is—He has never issued any divine decree on this matter!"

"Elders," Russell's gaze swept over the speechless crowd, chillingly cold, "and how do you explain this?"

The scene fell into a deathly silence.

The elders turned pale, drenched in cold sweat. A frame-up? The target was Russell; his words were law in Onfaros!

Admitting to forgery? That would be digging their own grave, completely destroying the very foundation of their legitimacy!

"Are you all mute?" Russell's anger finally erupted like a volcano, his resentment and grief suppressed for three hundred years turning into a storm of accusations. "Fine! If you won't speak, I'll speak for you!"

"That so-called divine decree is nothing but a colossal lie fabricated by you parasites to protect your meager power! You fear that once I unite the nations against the Black Tide, you will lose the ground for your tyranny!"

"I can understand your shortsightedness in opposing me! But what have the others done?! What have Onphalus done?!"

"Because of your lie, how many city-states have abandoned their hopes of unity and raised their swords again?! How many warriors have died in vain on the battlefield, how many families have been shattered and destroyed?! How many lands and lives that could have been saved have been swallowed up by the Black Tide?!"

"You wouldn't understand! All you see is the scepter in your hands, that disgusting power! Have you ever cared whether Onphalus lives or dies?! You are only intoxicated in your own filthy quagmire of power, greedily sucking like maggots!"

“Three hundred years! Enough for the bloodline of Onphalus to change six or seven times! But your Senate of Janusapolis is still that rotten, stinking log from the roots! Three hundred years have passed, and the stench it emits has not diminished in the slightest!”

“Every soul that has died in these three hundred years because of your lies, your shortsightedness, and your greed, their blood debt should be engraved, stroke by stroke, on the pillar of shame of your Senate!”

“I despise your stupidity! I despise your arrogance! I despise the filth, filth, and baseness deep within your souls! Every one of you is an executioner who drinks human blood and climbs to high positions over corpses!”

"Trying to speak on behalf of the Titans? Look at your ugly, corrupted bodies, your rotting souls—do you even deserve it?!"

"You are nothing but rats in the gutter, fit only to fight over disgusting scraps in the filthy sewers! Look at the suffocating prison you have turned the city-states of the Three Titans of Fate into!"

"The light of dawn still shines on this city, but it can never illuminate the bottomless darkness in your hearts!"

The furious outburst completely stunned the Senate. Some senators tried to speak in rebuttal, but when they met Russell's gaze, burning with a thousand years of rage that seemed to want to incinerate everything, all their voices were abruptly silenced.

That invisible, millennia-long pressure made them tremble like quails with their throats being choked, not daring to even breathe.

“Now,” Russell’s voice was firm and unwavering, “get out of my way! Onphalus is facing a life-or-death crisis and has no time to play your dirty games of power struggles! If you continue to be so stubborn…” He coldly swept his gaze across the crowd, “then you can prepare to mourn the fate of Janusapolis!”

After a brief silence, the smile on the "gentle" elder's face vanished completely, replaced by a ferocious ruthlessness: "It seems... there's no point in talking, Mr. Russell. Although there will be considerable trouble in the future,... you forced me to this!"

He swung his hand sharply and roared, "Guards! What are you waiting for?! Take them down! Death or life!"

The guards, loyal to the Senate, gripped their weapons and pressed forward relentlessly.

Russell looked at the soldiers who had surrounded him and let out a cold sneer: "Ha...who gave you the audacity to raise your swords against the ruler of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court? Even now, you are still so...stubborn and unrepentant!"

……

Today's storyline won't be anything too depressing. Let's relax a bit; I don't know if it'll be enjoyable. Then tomorrow I'll be featured on the recommendation page. So if you've read this far, please vote and give me some gifts to help boost my popularity. Please!

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Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Twenty-Two - The Ability to Save Lives Can Naturally Take Lives

Russell's resounding words acted like an invisible barrier, instantly making many guards' steps falter. They hesitated.

The name Russell itself carries their respect. The Healers of Ghazi have been rooted in Janusapolis for many years; how many guards' families have benefited from their kindness?

Those acts of kindness—never charging for medicine, only seeking to alleviate their suffering—were a beacon of light in the darkness for those with meager incomes. And now they are turning their weapons on those who once brought them that light.

At this moment, the hammer of conscience struck their souls. Facing this benevolent healer who had practiced medicine for a thousand years, the weapons in their hands seemed as heavy as a thousand pounds, difficult to lift. The core tenet of the Huai Medicine School—purifying the world's suffering without seeking reward—had long been deeply ingrained in their hearts.

Moreover, if Russell were truly killed in Janusapolis, the consequences would be unimaginable. The next day, angry declarations of war would likely pour in like snowflakes. And the city of Suspended Blade would most likely be the first to bear the brunt!

Those warriors who worshipped Nicardoli, the Spear of Divine Retribution, were always direct and brutal in their actions, and would never listen to any explanations from the Senate.

When Russell was learning martial arts in Suspended Peak, he not only treated their illnesses free of charge, but also reformed the military medical system, significantly reducing non-combat casualties. He even compiled a simple battlefield first aid manual, enabling every Suspended Peak soldier to master basic wound care.

For a decade, Russell practically became the guardian deity of Suspended Peak City. Even a century later, the people of Suspended Peak still remember this kindness. They don't celebrate the Conflict Festival, but instead gather herbs collectively during Amber Moon, which are then officially transported thousands of miles to the Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden. Within the city, a statue has even been erected in Russell's honor.

Back then, when Russell called for resistance against the Black Tide, even with the interference of false oracles, Suspended Peak City was one of the few city-states that did not speak ill of him.

The Suspended Peak People's thinking is straightforward: if they knew Russell had died in Janusapolis, their logic would be exceptionally clear: "Our most respected doctor died in your city-state? Whatever the reason—the conflict begins now."

……

These guards, who usually did dirty work for the Senate, could still convince themselves otherwise. But now, the thought of pointing weapons at a highly respected city-state leader, at the saint they had admired since childhood... this double pressure almost crushed their will.

The elder statesman's hysterical command was met with an awkward silence. The guards stood frozen like statues, collectively refusing to read or reply.

Many of the elders in the back rows, who had been angrily rebuked by Russell, were now looking timid and hesitant. Only a few leaders from various factions in the front row were still trying to maintain the facade.

This wasn't because they were exceptionally courageous, but because they knew that if they backed down, they would be attacked by other factions afterward. At this moment, even with a knife to their throats, they had to put on a righteous and awe-inspiring appearance.

Moreover, they believed they had an absolute advantage—how much trouble could two people cause? These guards were more than enough to handle the situation.

The threats of violence just now were mostly bluff. Even the most extreme members of the Senate wouldn't dare to actually consider killing Russell. That would be a hundred times more terrifying than killing the saint! Their worst-case scenario was to place the saint under strict house arrest, then secretly make a political deal with Russell, and finally release him.

"Useless! Are you all deaf?!" The "mild" elder's face was now contorted with rage, his voice hoarse with fury. "I order you to seize them immediately! Anyone who disobeys will be punished for treason! Now! Immediately! Execute!"

Under the weight of the charge of treason, the guards' struggle intensified. They moved slowly, the heavy creaking of their armor echoing through the corridor, eventually forming a circle that trapped Russell and Tirispius in the center.

“I’m just an ordinary doctor,” Russell’s voice regained its physician’s calmness as he glanced at the surrounding guards. “I don’t want to get involved in pointless fighting. One last warning: lay down your weapons and leave. No one will be hurt.”

He could vehemently denounce the crimes of the elders; yet, he always felt a physician's compassion for these lowly soldiers who had no choice in their fate. The blame lay with the hand that wielded the knife, not with the knife itself.

Some of the guards did hesitate slightly because of his words. Besides, historical records always portrayed Russell as a physically weak scholar. How much fighting ability could he possibly have? Perhaps... they could try to capture him alive? That would at least give both sides an explanation.

Watching the guards' hesitant yet still approaching steps, Russell pulled Tirispius closer and whispered, "Stubborn fool. Stay hidden."

Tirispius gripped the exquisite dagger in his hand and nodded vigorously.

Russell sighed, his hands flashing as he reached into his medical kit, pulling out a gleaming, narrow scalpel in each hand. The next instant, he shot forward like an arrow, crashing into the nearest line of guards!

The guards were caught off guard! Historical records only document Russell's benevolence and erudition, deliberately omitting the blood and fire he endured during his ten years of honing his skills in Suspended Peak! He was by no means a scholar who couldn't even kill a chicken!

The pair of scalpels in his hands were no ordinary items either. They were crafted by the top artisans of Xuanfeng City from a special alloy, with an incredibly tough texture and a blade capable of cutting through hair in an instant. The blades also had precise blood drainage grooves—originally used to efficiently drain blood and clean wounds to prevent infection during surgery, but now they had become powerful tools for reaping combat power on the battlefield.

A knife that can save lives can also injure them. In Bertrand Russell's work, this contradiction is vividly illustrated.

Drawing upon his profound understanding of human anatomy honed over millennia of research, Russell's attacks were precise, efficient, and imbued with the restraint of a healer. The flash of the blade did not strike vital organs, but rather precisely severed the tendons in the target's hands and feet!

"Ugh—!"

Screams rang out one after another. The guards who were hit were instantly incapacitated, collapsing to the ground and howling in pain. Russell chose to incapacitate them rather than kill them.

He sensed during the exchange that the guards' attacks were hesitant, not truly aimed to kill. Otherwise, his blade would have been aimed at their carotid artery first.

The guards awkwardly thrust their spears forward, but Russell's movements were like those of a ghost, always managing to dodge at the last second, his speed making the armored guards appear incredibly stiff.

The battle was far less difficult than anticipated. The guards were already demoralized and sluggish. Russell's swift and decisive actions—taking down several strong men in just a dozen seconds—completely shattered the morale of the remaining men.

Seeing their companions writhing and howling on the ground, and seeing the pair of bloodless, still-gleaming scalpels in Russell's hands, the surviving guards' hands gripping their weapons began to tremble uncontrollably, their feet seemingly nailed to the ground, no longer daring to take another step forward.

The scene instantly fell into a deathly silence. Only the groans of the wounded echoed in the corridor.

……

Amber Benevolent Medical Scroll: Chapter Twenty-Three - Instant Reversal

Russell's face was stained with mottled blood, adding a touch of cold, sinister ruthlessness to his usually gentle and refined demeanor. This made the guards unable to move an inch.

He gripped two scalpels tightly in his hands, the tips of which slowly dripped drops of crimson blood. The agonizing screams of the guards on the ground served as background noise, continuously heightening the tension of the scene.

"Aren't you going to lay down your weapons?" Russell's gaze swept over the still hesitant and timid guards, his voice carrying a tone of persuasion. "Are you really going to risk your lives for those elders who are pretending to be dead behind you?"

"Let's stop here." He flicked the blood off the scalpel, but a fierce fighting spirit burned deep within his pale blue pupils. "My blade doesn't want to be stained with the blood of the innocent, and I don't want to see you die for it. You know me—I'm not bloodthirsty."

Over the past millennium, the lesson Russell learned most profoundly was this: when faced with the stubborn and unyielding, respect their fate and cease forcing them. Looking at the guards' trembling hands and terrified eyes, he understood that the battle might be over.

He calmly took out a handkerchief from his medical kit and carefully wiped the blood off the scalpel, as if he were taking care of a cherished tool.

Then, he wiped the bloodstains from his face, restoring some of his former neatness. Only the congealed bloodstains in his hair would have to be washed off later. His gaze returned to calm, as if the wailing wounded on the ground had nothing to do with him.

Those guards whose tendons had been severed wouldn't die immediately. They were the most valiant fighters in the battle, each strike aimed at Russell's vitals. The other guards were mostly bluffing, trying to capture him alive. But those who fell were all filled with murderous intent.

Since they wanted Russell dead, Russell naturally wouldn't let them off easy. Death was a relief; living a half-dead existence was true torment.

As a doctor, he knew all too well how to make people endure prolonged pain. Even if they eventually found a doctor to painstakingly reconnect the tendons, the severe aftereffects would be enough to leave them practically disabled for the rest of their lives.

Russell foresaw that these discarded "loyal dogs" would soon be abandoned by the ruthless Senate as a burden. They would suffer in regret and pain, and ultimately die tragically—a cruel lesson in showing them the true nature of the people they had served.

The battle ended far faster than anyone had anticipated. The surviving guards looked at the "frail" healer with eyes filled with deep fear.

When Russell again urged them to lay down their weapons, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from their shoulders, and many guards threw their weapons to the ground without hesitation.

The elders make it sound so easy! Why don't they come up here themselves and try having their tendons severed? They just hide in the back, stirring things up and making others risk their lives! They're always so aloof, mean, and ungrateful; we've had enough of them!

Russell had no intention of killing; it was the senators' coercion that led to this bloodshed. As the Senate's personal guards, they knew all too well how these gentlemen would treat their wounded colleagues—nothing more than "secretly disposing of them" to prevent them from spreading the Senate's ruthlessness.

The will of the people is inevitably wavering. And the Senate's urging is only accelerating this process...

"Clang!"

The crisp sound of the first weapon hitting the ground was like the first domino falling.

"Clang!" "Clang!"

More and more weapons were abandoned on the ground. The guards silently retreated to both sides, completely exposing the pale-faced elders behind them who wished they could bury their heads in the ground.

Their actions declared: they had no will to fight anymore. If the elders had the guts, they could take their decorative daggers and challenge that fiend themselves! From this moment on, we were no longer willing to risk our lives for you.

This clanging "symphony of disarmament" shattered the last vestiges of hope and arrogance of the Janusapolis Senate.

The elders who had been shouting the loudest moments before now felt a chill run down their spines as they looked at their subordinates rolling on the ground and the gleaming scalpel in Russell's hand. Their carefully trained guards hadn't even lasted ten minutes against Russell!

They had considered Russell's illustrious reputation, but they never expected that even complete strangers like guards could be so influenced by him. They probably would never understand the strangeness of this matter until their deaths.

The faction leaders in the front row exchanged glances, conveying the same desperate question: Now... is it still possible to seek peace?

“A wise choice.” Russell’s voice broke the silence, calm yet carrying an invisible pressure. “However, after laying down your weapons, do you think these elders will settle scores with you afterwards?”

He glanced at the terrified guards and offered an enticing suggestion: "Why don't you bring your families and come with me to the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court? They're short of guards there. As for the treatment, the rumors you've heard outside—they're all true."

Russell's words were spoken softly, but they carried immense weight in the ears of the guards. Their previous hesitation stemmed from their fear of repercussions from the Senate. Now, that worry had been resolved!

As the ruler of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court, Russell's promise was backed by a thousand years of credibility. The reputation of this benevolent physician was the strongest contract.

The credit guards of others may not know, but how could they not believe in Russell, whose good credit is written in history books?

"Qiang!"

Almost without hesitation, the weapons they had just discarded were quickly picked up again. The guards gripped their sword hilts and spears tightly once more, their posture unchanged from before.

But at this moment, they are the reserve guards of the Divine Tree Court, obeying the orders of the new city-state's administrators, and pointing their weapons at their former masters—the elders of Janusapolis!

The balance of power was reversed in an instant!

For those unfamiliar with the Temple of the Divine Enlightenment, joining it might be hard to imagine. Under Russell's rule, the Temple of the Divine Enlightenment had long been one of the most efficient and advanced city-states in Onphalus.

Its welfare system is unmatched by other city-states—the most crucial aspect being that registered residents enjoy free, top-tier medical services for life, which alone is enough to crush all competitors.

Every year, countless people attempt to join the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court, solely for the sake of lifelong free medical care.

Only now did the elders truly understand what it meant to "fail to practice benevolence and righteousness, and you will eventually suffer the consequences." They had been in a position of power for too long and had never imagined that the situation would reverse so quickly and so completely.

The guards were thinking that Russell had not held their earlier hostility against them, but had instead generously offered them shelter, even extending the benefits to his family!

Faced with such a city-state administrator, what is there to hesitate about? This is the perfect opportunity to demonstrate loyalty to the new master!

And their chance to shine was right in front of them—they had long disliked these elders who didn't treat them like human beings!

……

I'm currently ranked second in real-time favorites among members of the same group. First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for their support; without you all, I definitely wouldn't have made it this far. Since this is a week-long recommendation, could you please give me all the votes for this week? I really need votes and more exposure. Thank you. Q:617289881

Uma Musume Pretty Derby: How Can You Become Everyone's Hero Without Some Tech-Savvy Skills?

If you're interested in Uma Musume (Horse Girl), you should check it out. The book is pretty good in terms of data analysis.

Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Twenty-Four - The Elders' Revenge