The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

So I started learning systematically for half a month, learning everything I could and trying to avoid the pitfalls I had previously encountered.

For example, when you first start out, you might think that an outline isn't very important, and you can just write down whatever comes to mind.

However, the later parts of the writing became extremely messy. So messy that I myself didn't want to deal with this ball of yarn that I had already unraveled.

At this point, it's impossible to find the inspiration that led to those thoughts back then, so each article becomes more and more disjointed.

So this time I wrote an outline and detailed outline of about 50,000 words, divided into about five major chapters. But at that time I originally wanted to post it on Tomato.

But suddenly seeing that I had written such a complete outline and posted it on the Pomodoro Technique seemed a bit of a waste.

Some people can make a lot of money using his streaming mechanism. But that's definitely not me. At most, I'll just follow behind and pick up the scraps.

To put it bluntly, I just want to sell this book for a good price and earn some extra money to improve my life of being stuck at home without any money.

In short, as long as I don't get too badly attacked, my books should have a million words.

As for comments, I will definitely read them all.

That's about all I wanted to say. I hope you all will support me. Paimon is begging you all. Seriously.

Amber Seen Medicine Scroll: Chapter Four - See You Tomorrow

The year 2475 in the Guang calendar.

Death, strife, and intrigue—the shadow of the three Titans of Calamity looms over the land.

Driven to madness by the need for survival, the people of Onphalus plundered everything they could. The land burned under their insatiable greed.

This short-sighted atrocity enraged the Titan of Reason—Thrish.

The enraged gods unleashed divine punishment: the earth cracked, and not a blade of grass grew. The fruits and grains upon which life depended vanished instantly, and a ferocious famine swept across the continent.

Despair did not foster unity; instead, it bred deeper darkness.

In a struggle for the remaining food and clean water, people turned their knives on their fellow citizens.

The fragile peace between the city-states was shattered, and a bloody war broke out.

Ceres coldly surveyed the scene. The ugliness displayed by humanity under divine punishment disheartened her—perhaps extinction was the only fate for such beings.

On this land soaked in despair, a figure continues to trek.

Dr. Russell, known as the Amber Doctor, stubbornly traversed the ruins, carrying a worn-out linen medical bag.

He tried to heal those he saw as sick.

Faced with the famine that swept across the continent, his efforts were like a stone thrown into stagnant water, creating only faint ripples before being swallowed up by boundless suffering.

He searched for herbs that still had energy, ground them into a fine powder, mixed them with water, and fed them to the dying starving people.

This meager dose of medicine might only prolong the heartbeat for a few more days. But as long as a person is alive, there is hope.

Bertrand Russell was not fighting alone. Over the past twenty-five years, he had come to understand that he could not fight against the boundless pain and death on his own.

He took on many disciples and devoted himself to compiling medical books, imparting all his life experience and insights.

He almost obsessively urged his disciples, hoping that they would spread the medical skills and benevolence of Amber Physician to every corner of Onphalus and put into practice the ideal of banishing illness.

Most of the disciples lived up to expectations, like seeds of hope scattered across various cities and states.

The name of Amber-Healer actually eased the bloody friction between the city-states to some extent.

In gratitude for Russell's contributions, the Onfaros designated April as "Amber Month" after the famine ended.

Historical records indicate that the young doctor who brought hope arrived in Ohmmar in April. In that month, people embraced each other, celebrating a brief respite from life.

When collecting herbs, we would deliberately leave a few behind, waiting for a kind doctor who might pass by, to convey our small but firm prayer: that this doctor may overcome more diseases and bring more hope for life.

However, the years that followed in the year 2475 were cruel. Letters sent back to Ohma became increasingly rare, until they ceased altogether.

Twenty-five years is enough to erase too many traces. The disciples who carried Russell's high hopes were almost all lost in the famine.

By the time the last letter arrived, the famine had lasted for six months. Russell clutched the thin envelope, his heart heavy, a sense of foreboding gripping him.

He was almost reluctant to open it.

The letter unfolds, revealing two striking words carved with all their might: Ophina's Last Words.

Russell's gaze swept quickly across the familiar, whimsical words until he reached the last line: "Master, let's meet again at the end of the west wind. See you tomorrow. I'll definitely be the best doctor then."

"Also, don't secretly wipe away your tears."

Russell felt as if his heart had been gripped tightly by a cold, iron hand and then torn apart.

The worries and pain accumulated over twenty-five years erupted at this moment. It was a deep, bone-chilling pain, one that could be confided in no one and had to be endured alone.

He lost his last disciple, Ophina, who had once called him "the old geezer".

She died, not on her sickbed, but amidst the strife and conflict that humanity had stirred up due to hunger and greed.

The guise of a benevolent doctor silently faded. Russell sat on the wooden bed, his eyes vacant, his soul seemingly drifting back to a time filled with the laughter and joy of yesteryear.

He looked up at the dim ceiling of the clinic, his pale blue eyes shimmering with tears, yet stubbornly refusing to fall.

He was alone again, having lost his last worldly attachment. He pressed his handkerchief hard against the corner of his eye.

His empty gaze was fixed on the closed door, as if he were hoping that a familiar figure would push the door open and enter with a complaining or mischievous smile, just like before.

But he knew it wouldn't happen again.

Fragments of memory come flooding back: Ophina was the youngest disciple, and also the most mischievous.

She would often angrily call him "old codger" in private because of the sudden medical skills test, and the result was usually that she would be punished by copying a thick medical book ten times.

She even secretly added laxatives to his soup once, but when he found out, he sternly made her drink it herself. As a result, she spent the whole night running to the toilet, and the next day she was as wilted as a frostbitten eggplant.

His memory of Ophia was finally frozen on the day he sent her to the city-state of Aidiria.

To celebrate her completion of her apprenticeship, he gently pinned the small gold wheat ear headdress he had worn for over twenty years into her hair.

“The outside world is not like Ohmma…” He had many words of advice, but they caught in his throat and he could only manage a dry “Take care, see you tomorrow.”

The girl held her head high, a bright smile on her face: "See you tomorrow! Don't worry! We'll definitely see each other again tomorrow! By then, I'll surpass you and become an even greater doctor!"

"I will inherit your name! And then... I will personally place this headdress back on your head! Hehe!"

Tomorrow will never come again.

The golden ear of wheat that carried the bond between master and disciple could never return to his hair.

He didn't understand what was wrong with the world. Life had become so cheap.

No matter how heavy the burden on his heart, his healer's instincts still drove him. Russell silently shouldered his medicine chest and pushed open the door of the clinic.

Perhaps only by devoting oneself to treatment and shuttling between the patients' pain and hope can one temporarily numb the bone-deep sorrow.

Before the Titans' cataclysmic punishment, Russell was as insignificant as dust. Yet he stubbornly continued on his journey, using his limited medical skills to pull back the elderly, women, and children struggling in the famine.

Those greedy and wasteful nobles and priests may have deserved to die. But why should these ordinary people, struggling at the bottom of society and who have never enjoyed any blessings, suffer such a catastrophic fate?

He couldn't conjure food, nor could he end the famine. All he could do was use silver needles and herbs to add a spark of life to every tiny flame of life he could muster.

Fortunately, the famine did not last forever. The Titan Georia, who deeply loved all living beings, could not bear to see everything perish. He made a wager with the enraged Cersis, securing a chance for humanity to be saved.

Ultimately, guided by Georia and after humanity's arduous journey through the trials set by Serhith, the Titan of Reason revoked the divine punishment as promised. The cracked earth became moist and fertile once more, and withered plants were revitalized.

The Earth Titans drove their followers to teach humanity the knowledge of crop cultivation, guiding Onphalus away from primitive hunting and plundering and towards an agricultural civilization.

In this catastrophe, the figure who went against the tide of people and insisted on saving lives finally caught Cecily's attention.

This rational titan became curious about Russell.

What force drives an ordinary person who can barely save himself to devote himself to saving others without hesitation?

She had long heard the legend of the Amber Physician and was even more intrigued by his unchanging appearance over the past century. How did he manage to do it? What secrets lay behind it?

Shortly after the famine ended, Serhith invited Russell to accompany him, promising to grant him vast knowledge beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Russell did not immediately agree as expected. He raised his pale blue eyes, looked directly at the Titan radiating an invisible pressure, and asked a question: "If you are a rational Titan, you must be well-versed in all knowledge in the world... including the most profound medicine?"

Sersis nodded slightly, his brows displaying the absolute confidence of a god: "Of course."

Upon receiving confirmation, Russell's eyes instantly blazed with a fervent and resolute light: "I will go with you. I implore you, Lord Serhith, to teach me the ways of medicine."

“A person eager for knowledge suits my taste perfectly.” Cecis revealed a hint of satisfaction. “Come with me, and I will impart all that I have learned.”

For the next twenty-five years, Russell followed Serhith to many corners of Onphalus.

He witnessed humanity's continued greed and destruction even after they recovered. He understood the deep disappointment and anger that Ceres harbored when he unleashed divine punishment.

Humanity's stain is its insatiable greed.

The year 2500 in the Guang calendar.

After 25 years of travel and study, Russell had absorbed all the medical knowledge that Serhis possessed.

Even this deity was amazed by this mortal's almost monstrous medical talent.

By all accounts, Russell should be a centenarian. Yet, time seems to have forgotten him. His mind remains sharp, and the occasional bursts of insight are so swift that even Serhith is astonished.

He still looks young with silver hair and blue eyes, his gaze is clear and shows no signs of age.

The day he completed his studies would be the day he parted ways. Russell knew this all too well. It wasn't that he was tired of Serhith's occasional sharpness, but rather that his compassionate heart, that of a healer, could no longer remain content with simply pursuing knowledge. He needed to return to humanity and put his ideals into practice.

At the edge of a lush, primeval forest, Russell stopped, his voice calm yet firm: "Rational Titan, I think... we must part ways here. From this day forward, I can no longer follow you. Please forgive me."

He raised his head and gave an apologetic smile: "On the land of Onphalus, there are still too many illnesses waiting to be cured. Please forgive my departure."

Sersis elegantly clasped her hands in front of her, her expression knowing: "Man, your words make it seem as if I am reluctant to part with you."

"Now that you have mastered all my medical skills, you should use what you have learned to do what you wish to do. As a rational Titan, how could I not know your thoughts?"

"I'm afraid you're already eager to return home."

“Thank you for your understanding, teacher.” Russell bowed deeply. “As you know, I will certainly put what I have learned into practice.”

Over time, Russell came to understand that while this Titan was sharp-tongued, he possessed a sense of justice and concern.

“Man,” Ceres gazed at him, voicing the question that had been lingering in his heart, “I still don’t understand. Why did you insist on saving those greedy, self-destructive people back then?”

"To save them is to condone their continued looting and destruction. What else is this but a futile effort?"

Russell met her gaze, a gentle yet unwavering smile on his face: "If wealth cannot be shared equally, why should sin be shared? The suffering in this world has never been impartial. Therefore, there is no point in trying."

He paused, his eyes clear and deep: "Whether what I did was meaningful, or how the world judges it, I don't care. The only thing I'm sure of is—in my heart, it was by no means in vain. That's enough."

"Enough, enough." Sersis closed his eyes and waved his hand, his tone filled with helpless weariness. "Twenty-five years have passed, and your stubborn nature remains unchanged. I am weary too, and I will say no more. Since your mind is made up, then go with me."

"May we meet again a hundred years from now, Lord Titan of Reason." Russell made a promise about "tomorrow," just as he had when he bid farewell to Orphea.

"Heh." Sersis let out a soft, enigmatic laugh, not turning around, her figure blending into the shadows of the forest. "Man, take care of yourself first. Even if you perish a thousand times, I will live on forever."

In Serhith's long observation, Russell was a complete oddity. He seemed born only for medicine. He always seemed slow to grasp knowledge outside of medicine.

The mysteries surrounding him—the stagnant time, the immortal youth—remain unsolved puzzles.

However, Cecily thought that if all the mysteries in the world had answers, wouldn't the world be too boring?

And so, on the edge of an unknown ancient forest, Amber Healer Russell and Rational Titan Serhith parted ways.

Ceres continued her boundless wanderings.

Russell, once again carrying his weathered medical bag, embarked on an endless journey of medical practice.

He will use the almost miraculous medical skills he has learned over the past twenty-five years to challenge more dangerous diseases and alleviate deeper suffering.

His wish was simple yet grand: that the world be free from the torment of illness, the pain of death, and the regret that follows.

Amber Benevolent Medicine Scroll: Chapter Five - Past Events of Suspended Edge

The Guangli era is 2600.

"Haha! Dr. Luo! Thanks to you, our warriors were able to stand up again!"

A burly man covered in crimson paint and adorned with intimidating symbols patted Russell on the shoulder excitedly, his smile almost splitting his ears.

Suspended Peak City recently suffered a fierce battle, leaving more than 300 warriors severely wounded and lying in their makeshift camps awaiting death.

The doctors in the city were helpless, watching as their comrades would perish in agony.

It was at this moment that Russell stepped into this city-state, where fighting was the faith.