The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

The name of Amber Healer resounded throughout Onfaros, and even the rugged warriors of Suspended Edge City knew it well.

When local doctors declared they were powerless to help, people turned their attention to this living legend—a healer who had been a symbol for two hundred years.

His very existence is history. The rulers of any city-state would treat him with the utmost respect.

Thus, Russell witnessed a scene he would never forget even centuries later: a dozen warriors from Suspended Peak City knelt before him in unison.

Their heads were bowed, their voices heavy with sorrow and pleading: "Doctor! Please save our brothers! We'll pay any price if you help!"

They swore that they would remain kneeling until Russell agreed.

Russell tried to get them to stand up and discuss the matter, but the answer was unequivocal: "In the dictionary of the Suspended Peak, there is no compromise!"

This scene was deeply etched in Russell's mind. As a physician known for his compassion, how could he have ever refused to treat someone?

The man with the sway clearly didn't know him well enough—he never hesitated to lend a helping hand to any life, except for the most incorrigible villains.

When he actually stepped into that makeshift ward, he realized how serious the situation was.

Rather than being severely wounded in battle, it's more accurate to say he lay there awaiting the arrival of the Titan of Death.

The brutal treatment by the Suspended Blade caused many wounds to become severely infected, and even with the use of herbal medicine, they were barely kept alive for a few days.

The critically injured man had a terrifyingly high fever, was delirious, and blood was seeping from the corner of his mouth, as if he would be taken away by the Titan of Death, Cenarius, at any moment.

This sight would deter any ordinary doctor, who would declare that there was no hope.

But the one who made the move at this moment was Amber Benevolent Doctor.

He drew upon two centuries of accumulated medical expertise, as well as the entire treasure trove of wisdom he had drawn from the rational Titan Serhith. A tug-of-war with death began.

In the end, he miraculously pulled these three hundred lives back from the brink of death.

Even more astonishingly, none of these people were left disabled. After only one or two months of recuperation, they were able to take up arms again and embark on the path of conflict.

To the people of Xuanfeng, this was nothing short of a miracle! The comrades who had been sentenced to death were all saved by this doctor who refused to die.

They revered strength and held even greater respect for warriors who could snatch lives from the jaws of death. If not for Russell, they would have forever lost these brothers-in-arms.

The burly leader excitedly pulled the relatively thin Russell into his arms, expressing his gratitude with the most enthusiastic embrace from the Suspended Peak people.

The surrounding soldiers, also covered in paint and with newly healed wounds, burst into deafening laughter.

For them, failing to die a glorious death on the battlefield and instead being defeated by wounds and infection was the most humiliating end. Now, they have regained the right to fight.

Upon learning of Russell's impending departure, the warriors he had rescued spontaneously organized a grand celebration. In their view, a mere farewell party was far from sufficient to repay the debt of gratitude they owed him.

“This is all a doctor’s duty. You people from Suspended Peak are too kind.” Russell had just freed himself from the bear hug that almost suffocated him and straightened his clothes. “Now that the wounded are all out of danger, I should set off for the next place.”

"Hey! Dr. Amber!" The burly leader hurriedly tried to stop him. "You saved so many of our brothers, preventing them from committing suicide out of guilt for their disabilities. How can we, the Suspended Peak Men, let you leave like this? At least, attend our celebration before you go!" His face was full of a simple, honest smile, and his eyes were eager.

Russell glanced around at the grateful and expectant gazes, then clicked his tongue helplessly: "If I remember correctly, your banquet... seems to involve drinking blood? I'm afraid I can't accept that."

Over the past century, Russell has not given up teaching medicine, but his methods have changed dramatically.

He no longer painstakingly mentored apprentices personally, but instead appeared almost indifferent. He would usually just hand over his medical books and insights to talented young people, offer a few pointers, and then drift away.

Even when encountering someone with exceptional talent, he would only provide face-to-face guidance for a few days, and then leave with the words, "The rest is up to you to figure out," before continuing his travels around Onphalus.

He couldn't even remember most of his disciples' names, and after more than a decade, even their faces would become blurry. This might seem cruel to outsiders.

But only Russell, who had experienced the pain of losing loved ones many times, understood that this detachment was not only to protect himself from being torn apart by grief, but also to avoid bringing unnecessary entanglements to his disciples who were destined to go their separate ways.

Although the individual skill level of Amber Physician's disciples may not be as high as that of the elites he personally taught in his early years, their numbers have increased significantly.

These disciples, like dandelion seeds, have scattered in all directions, practicing the school's ideals. Over the past century, two generations of Onfaros have passed through their ranks.

Bertrand Russell himself has long been a living historical symbol of this continent. Two hundred years have passed since his death, and sometimes even he wonders: has he been completely forgotten by the time of Onphalus?

However, the ever-expanding black tide has crossed the border, slowly eroding the remaining land of the continent. The monsters assimilated and twisted by the black tide exude a chilling aura of terror.

Russell nearly lost his life at his hands, only escaping thanks to his quick thinking.

The human body has its limits—this statement applies to Russell as well. One of the most unforgettable memories of his travels through the world after leaving Ohma, in the city of Suspended Edge, was being forced to drink a large cup of fresh blood.

The intense metallic taste shot straight to the top of my head, the sour and bitter flavors exploded on my tongue, and the strange aftertaste was nauseating.

Every time he recalls it, the stench of blood and decay that filled the air during the famine seems to linger around his nose—a scar he doesn't want to touch.

"Haha! It seems Dr. Luo's information network isn't up to par!" The burly man laughed loudly upon hearing this, as if he had heard something extremely amusing.

"Drinking blood is ancient history! Ever since Lord Nicardori, the God of Conflict, drank pomegranate juice and praised it highly, we've changed our tradition! Now we drink sweet and sour pomegranate juice! The pomegranates grown in Suspended Peak City are used to make juice with an excellent flavor! You must try it!"

“Pomegranate juice?” Russell’s pale blue eyes flashed with a hint of thought. He remembered that pomegranates seemed to be a specialty of the ocean titan Fajina’s territory. “The color is quite similar… Alright, then I’ll gladly accept your offer.”

A grand victory celebration was held in Suspended Peak City. Russell watched as these simple, strong men tore at the roasted meat in the most rugged way and drank heartily the deep red pomegranate juice that symbolized blood.

Amidst the laughter, some soldiers were secretly wiping away tears. One murmured, "If Dr. Russell had arrived a few days earlier... perhaps we could have saved a few more..."

They understood that this benevolent doctor treated all patients equally, but regretted that his comrades could not hold on until the moment of hope arrived.

Bertrand Russell's reputation, built up over two centuries, is a true testament to his exceptional talent. His legendary life has been celebrated in poetry.

At this moment, the celebration also gave them new strength: with the strong bodies "blessed" by Dr. Russell, carrying the beliefs of their fallen comrades and surviving friends, they continued on their destined path of conflict until the end of their lives.

Russell sighed inwardly, "Truly worthy of being called the people of Suspended Edge." He looked up and gazed at the enormous stone sword hanging at the highest point of the city-state—legend has it that it was a sacred object bestowed upon Suspended Edge by the Titanic Cadori of the Warring States, and the point of its blade is where calamity will befall.

The Titan's power was terrifying. It was said that He could flatten a small city-state in an instant with just a single spear.

Such terrifying destructive power truly deserves the name of a calamity. But Russell could only offer a moment of silence for the local people.

The current Suspended Peak City suppresses other city-states with its powerful military force. Rather than following the god of strife, they seem to be enjoying the rhythm of strife itself.

Fortunately, the Suspended Peak People hadn't degenerated into indiscriminate, bloodthirsty madmen. Furthermore, the disciples of the Amber Medical School traveled far and wide practicing medicine, which indirectly reduced the brutality of the war and meant that the Suspended Peak People weren't entirely the universally despised lunatics.

When the banquet ended, Russell's medical kit was stuffed full. The honest, kind-hearted men he had saved crowded forward one by one, stuffing their "gifts" into his hands without a word.

Most of them were not good with words; after stuffing the food into their hands, they would just scratch the back of their heads and chuckle sheepishly, but their gratitude was palpable. Someone offered them pomegranate juice, carefully aged for years, saying it would bring good luck, "One sip, and you'll remember Suspended Peak City!"

Someone specially commissioned the skilled "Mountain People" to forge a set of precision steel surgical instruments for Russell, solemnly stating: "A doctor without a scalpel is like us Suspended Peak Men without weapons and armor! In our dictionary, there is no such thing as abandoning armor and helmet!"

Some people even brought over specialty foods from Suspended Peak City and rare herbs they had collected. "These treasures are much better in your hands than with us roughnecks who only know how to fight!"

They sincerely hoped that this kind doctor would visit Suspended Peak City again, and that they would drink heartily with him once more.

Upon hearing of this, the King of Suspended Peak City, to show the highest respect for this legendary healer, specially ordered an elite squad to escort Russell to his destination.

Russell did not refuse the offer. In Onfaros, mentioning the name "Amber Healer" always earned a degree of respect.

But when facing those mindless monsters in the Black Tide, titles are meaningless; the guard team can at least provide some protection.

His destination seemed mysterious and heavy—Aederia, a city-state that took pride in serving death. This was Onphalus's most mysterious place, and the direction his youngest disciple, Ophia, had resolutely headed for.

He really wanted to see what the place that had attracted Ophia was like.

Deep down, he harbored a faint hope: after a century of vicissitudes, would anyone in Aidiria still remember the girl who once wanted to surpass her master?

Someone should remember.

……

Amber Benevolent Medicine Scroll: Chapter Six: The Northern Country Buried by Snow

Aidiria, a city-state chilled to the bone. Both its frigid climate and its eerie atmosphere exude a chill.

When people talk about this place, they always bring up cold topics: the perpetual blizzards, the pale earth that covers everything, the gloomy and hard lines of the buildings, and their almost fanatical worship of death.

They were the most devout followers of the Death Titan Senatos, a fact well-known in Onphalus.

The Audreys stubbornly reject the outside world, like a self-enclosed kingdom, and the outside world knows very little about them.

Here, attitudes toward doctors are particularly contradictory and complex. Many people view doctors as fighters against death, naturally harboring resistance and aversion towards them.

They might show some respect for highly skilled doctors, but when they themselves are diagnosed with a terminal illness, they often choose to refuse treatment and embrace death directly. To them, embracing death is the end of suffering.

This is not uncommon in Audrey. A century ago, Ophia's letters to Russell were filled with confusion and frustration about this.

That lively young apprentice was determined to use his medical skills to change this country that revered death and prove himself to his teacher.

She tried her best to persuade those patients who were clearly curable, but she could not shake their yearning for death.

In her letter, Ophia angrily described them as "mentally ill" and "pure self-destructors."

……

Bertrand Russell trekked alone across the snow-covered wilderness. As far as the eye could see, there were only a few withered trees, like twisted black skeletons, stubbornly piercing the vast snow curtain.

Silence, deathly silence. This scene subtly aligns with the aesthetics of death that Audrey Gordes championed—the soul returning to the River Styx, flowing in eternal silence.

Russell understood the roots of this adoration. He had traveled to this land with Serhith, and that memory was equally vivid.

Even after the Titan Augeria imparted its knowledge of planting, the barrenness and harshness of Aedria still made survival incredibly difficult.

The environment here is so harsh it's almost despairing. Even without the divine punishment of Sersis, most of the land is already barren, perpetually covered by thick snow and ice.

On the few remaining bare plots of land, the plants that struggled to grow were mostly sickly, and the grain they produced was far from enough to feed the city-state's population.

The Audreys, from the moment they are born, live with hunger, cold, and endless blizzards.

The biting wind, like blades, scraped across their faces wrapped in rough linen. To move forward in the gale, they had to hunch their bodies.

When the road ahead of life is filled with only endless torment and despair, death—the legendary journey to the tranquil River Styx—becomes an alluring escape.

They were accustomed to living near death, even revering it. After all, after death, there was no more suffering in this world.

Outsiders have no right to judge their choices. If life is destined to be a difficult journey from the very beginning, then isn't death simply the end of that journey?

The rational Titan Thersius, who was always sarcastic and somewhat arrogant, was surprisingly moved with compassion after witnessing the unfathomable despair in the eyes of the Aedrians.

She used the power of the Titans to turn a large area of ​​frozen land near the city into fertile fields.

The land blessed by the Titans was exceptionally fertile, and crops flourished there, yielding bountiful harvests year after year, finally freeing the Aedrians from their greatest shackle—the scarcity of food.

Cersis's intervention slightly reversed the Aedrians' utterly hopeless view of death, but only "slightly."

Life has hope, but embracing death remains an integral and even anticipated part of their lives.

The base color is no longer so dark; it has become... a bit more complex.

Things must be better than they were in Ophia's time. Doctors here are probably no longer objects of pure hatred, though they will still encounter instinctive resistance.

That hypocritical, rational Titan... A ripple of emotion stirred within Russell.

They agreed to meet again a hundred years later, but when the day came, only he remained. Cecily did not appear, leaving behind only the Divine Tree Court she created and the eternal seat reserved for "Russell, the Sage of the Healing School".

"My son, I wonder how far you can go on this path of medicine? If your heart is weary, why not go to the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court and serve as a sage of the Huai Medicine School? This oath is valid forever."

These were the words Cexis left for him in the Divine Tree Garden ten years before his divine body shattered and his soul scattered into fragments.

After that, she continued to travel, adopting a laissez-faire attitude towards Shenwu Shuting and him.

The Titan still cared about him after all, even paving such a safe way out for him. When they parted, he pretended not to care, but deep down he was afraid that the other man was not doing well and had nowhere to go.

Therefore, Bertrand Russell, in the name of a wise man of the White School of Medicine, would return to the Tree of Knowledge every five years to compile his latest medical discoveries and understandings into a book, which he would then distribute to scholars for study.

He himself continued to follow the path inherited from Ceres—walking on the land of Onphalus, using his hands to save as many lives as possible.

Later, at the Divine Tree Garden, Russell learned of the devastating news of Serhith's demise.

Her divine body crumbled in a war, and her soul fragments scattered without a trace. Now, only her lover Meneta continues his futile attempt to stitch those fragments back together and bring back the departed Titan.

Russell could only silently wish Meneta success. His medical skills could save people, but not Titans.

The days when Cecis debated ideas with him and imparted knowledge are still vivid in my mind. Yet, only a century has passed, and things have changed so much.

She had once said with certainty that even if he died a thousand times, she would live on forever. Little did she know that less than a century after their separation, the prophecy would be reversed in such a cruel way.

Russell understood: that teacher, whose words were sharp yet subtly protective, had finally left.

It's yet another heavy regret. Regrets are inevitable, but those who are alive must still carry them and move forward.

Death may be a relief, but escaping is too easy. Carrying the last wishes of the departed makes the road heavier, but it is also the badge of honor for the brave.

At this moment, Russell felt a subtle resonance with the Titan Cephall, who was silently carrying the core of the Dawn in the distance.

……

A few days later, the cold and oppressive outline of the city-state of Aidiria finally emerged on the horizon as the snowstorm subsided. The atmosphere of the entire city-state, like its reverence for death, weighed heavily on my heart.

Russell crunched through the snow, his feet making a soft, crunching sound. It was a rare period of calm in Aedria, with no fierce winds whipping snowflakes against his skin, only a bone-chilling cold.

With every few steps, he exhaled a puff of white breath that quickly dissipated. The exquisite thick leather cloak that the city of Suspended Edge had given him now served as his most reliable barrier, keeping out most of the bitter cold and providing precious warmth.

It is said that this is a precious item made from the tough leather of a giant beast hunted by the warriors of Suspended Peak City.

When they learned that he was going to the snow country of Aidiria, the warm-hearted men of Suspended Peak did not hesitate to give him the medicine as a sign of their respect for this benevolent doctor.