The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

Russell paused briefly, then continued on, carrying his linen medical kit, which smelled faintly of herbs. It seemed the story of Miss Xia Die was becoming increasingly fascinating.

……

The year was 3760 in the Guangli calendar.

For Russell, this span of a thousand years felt like yesterday. The snow-covered landscape of Eridia seemed still vivid in his mind.

At that moment, staring at the mountain of reports, documents, and countless numbered test tubes piled on the lab bench, he felt a wave of dizziness. So much had happened in this thousand years.

The Black Tide, once ignored by the Onfaros, has now swallowed nearly one-tenth of the continent's landmass.

Many city-states built on the borders, even those fortunate enough to escape destruction by the strife-ridden Titanicadori, ultimately could not escape the clutches of the Black Tide—either devoured by the monsters it spawned or completely corrupted by the filth itself.

The black tide spread at an ever-accelerating pace, as if activated by some mechanism, expanding every year. Wherever it passed, only a deathly stillness of interwoven black and red remained, teeming with monsters.

Even getting close to it causes a piercing, burning pain. Like a greedy beast, it patiently and persistently licks the edge of Onpharos, savoring its prey.

For a thousand years, the conflict never ceased. The rulers of the six city-states changed hands time and again, and war, death, famine, and plague clung to this land like maggots.

Occasionally, sparks of change would ignite, but they were quickly extinguished by the corruption of power, and the reforms would return to decay.

The approaching Black Tide and the wounds of war shook the foundations of the once supreme rule of the priests and nobles.

Their indifference to the suffering of the lower classes aroused strong discontent. A new system called the "Senate" emerged, originally intended to represent the will of the citizens, supervise the rulers, and prevent tyranny.

However, the taste of power, like newly printed banknotes, is almost inevitably corrupting. The seats in the Senate quickly became a new arena for power struggles.

In less than a century, it degenerated into a vortex of political infighting, with conspiracies and betrayals unfolding one after another. Ironically, the chaotic power struggles at the top unexpectedly brought Onfaros a fragile peace that lasted for a century, with Janusapolis being a prime example.

In other city-states, the Senate was mostly just a mouthpiece of the old ruling class, all talk and no action, with little real power, and its life and death depended entirely on the whim of the true ruler.

The Senate of Janusapolis (the city-state of Janus, the gateway to the Titan Janus) was even bolder. They secretly plotted a bloody coup, purging a large number of the old nobles and priests.

To solidify their legitimacy, they imprisoned the saint, a symbol of divine authority, in the temple, severing her from all contact with the outside world. The "oracles" of the Gate Titans were naturally delivered by them. They became the true rulers of Janusapolis.

Once they sensed the saintess's rebellious intentions, they would hold a grand "ritual" to create an "accident" and eliminate her. The most recent example was the "accidental" death of the previous saintess, Mortes.

For the Senate, a stain on its reputation was far less important than the real power it held. With power in hand, no one could stir up trouble.

In the year 3750 of the Light Calendar, the Titan Kephale, who protected Ohma, willingly surrendered his flame and perished in the city-state of Ohma.

No one knows for sure whether he truly perished, and no one ever heard a reply. The people of Ohm refused to believe his death, recording in their annals that Kephale fell into a deep sleep in the year 3750 of the Light Calendar.

Afterwards, a new generation of heroes, imbued with immense power, began to emerge on the continent of Onpharos. Golden divine blood flowed through their veins, and they were known as the Golden Blood.

Meanwhile, the conflict Titanicadori, which had been active on the front lines of the war, has inexplicably fallen silent and frequently slumbers. The last time the horn of conflict was sounded was eight hundred years ago.

Meanwhile, the three Titans of Fate also began to exhibit unusual behavior.

The prophecies of the Titan Oronis of Ages grew increasingly obscure and difficult to understand, his voice trembling with fear, as if he were glimpsing the terror of an approaching future.

The scales of the Law Titan Tarranton have completely tipped, and no matter how he adjusts the weights, he cannot restore balance, as if it were a harbinger of the collapse of world order.

The gates of Titan Janus could no longer be fully closed, and the ominous whispers emanating from behind the cracks might foreshadow unknown calamities.

Accompanying these strange phenomena was the Black Tide's even more aggressive expansion. At this moment, the Black Tide resembled a filthy giant python, tightly coiling around the outer edge of the Onpharos continent.

However, when the Kuroshio tide reached a certain critical point, its speed inexplicably slowed down, as if it were being suppressed by some force.

People mistakenly believed the crisis was over, and they eagerly picked up their swords again, killing each other for their shrinking living space and resources.

As the rational Titan Thersis observed a thousand years ago: once humans cease to perceive imminent threats, greed will drive them to destroy one another.

Tragically, they were wrong. After a century of internal strife, the Black Tide's rate of engulfing the land suddenly intensified! This time, it brought even deeper despair and suffering.

Like a giant beast that has finished resting, it once again fiercely pounced on every inch of Onphalus's land, transforming living beings into twisted monsters and driving them to attack their own kind.

It is advancing slowly but irresistibly toward the core of the continent, like slowly digesting food in a stomach.

But people remained engrossed in their conflicts. None of them took the approaching Black Tide seriously. Why should they worry about a calamity so far away?

With Nicardi's slumber, the horns of the strife gradually fell silent, seemingly heralding the arrival of a new era.

In this shadow that no one was yet aware of, Bertrand Russell, who had lived for 1,200 years, never gave up.

He remained engrossed in the mountains of lab reports and test tubes, relentlessly searching for hope to combat the Black Tide.

Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Twelve - The Millennial Sage of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden

The Black Tide, like a greedy beast, relentlessly devoured the borderlands of Onfaros, forcing even Russell, who traveled far and wide seeking medicine, to halt his journey.

It wasn't out of fear of the death shadow brought by the Black Tide, but rather through centuries of accumulated experience and keen intuition that Russell perceived the terror of this Black Tide.

If not addressed early, it would inevitably escalate into a catastrophe that would destroy the world. This ominous premonition was unfortunately and cruelly confirmed in the long years that followed.

The Black Tide has become an incurable disease for Onfaros, relentlessly gnawing at the border and expanding outwards at a slow but unstoppable pace.

Even more worrying is that the world of strife has entered its most brutal phase. The six major city-states, along with countless smaller forces, are embroiled in endless warfare, with one faction rising and another falling, and the flags changing hands constantly.

The influence of the Benevolent Physicians, represented by Russell, gradually waned as Senate politics replaced traditional priestly aristocratic politics.

Over the centuries, Bertrand Russell devoted himself to advocating for the prevention of pointless wars and to awakening people's sense of urgency to fight against catastrophic disasters.

However, faced with the deep-seated greed of human nature, his efforts were futile and like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Several city-states even attempted to emulate Janusapolis's imprisonment of the saint during his visit, forcibly detaining him and making him a symbolic puppet.

He escaped death several times, all thanks to the secret assistance of the descendants of the patients he had painstakingly treated. Never underestimate the extensive network of connections a doctor with over a century of medical experience and whose footprints have covered the entire continent has accumulated.

For serious safety reasons, Russell eventually came to the Divine Tree Garden, just as his teacher Serhith had foreseen, and settled down as a "Sage of the Healing School".

From a traveling physician to one of the Seven Sages of the Neutral Academic Sanctuary, the Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden, Russell's arrival greatly enhanced the reputation of the Huai Medical School, transforming it from a minor faction into the second most important faction within the Tree Garden.

Russell imparted all his lifelong medical experience and knowledge to the public without reservation. He knew that it would be a pipe dream to save the entire Onphalus by himself alone.

At this moment, he was more like a farmer sowing seeds on barren land, patiently waiting for knowledge to take root, sprout, blossom, and bear fruit. At the same time, he devoted his main energy to research on curbing the Black Tide, day after day, for a thousand years.

After countless deductions and calculations, the top scholars of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court came to a despairing conclusion: without effective intervention, the entire continent of Onfaros will be completely swallowed by the Black Tide within three thousand years, leaving no survivors.

Three thousand years is a long time for ordinary Onphalus people, spanning several generations, but for someone like Russell, almost forgotten by time, it is a clearly visible and imminent future.

He and his students, generation after generation, devoted themselves to this research race against time. Although most attempts were fruitless and futile.

But even the most foolish can have a stroke of genius. The culmination of countless generations' efforts and wisdom has finally yielded a remedy capable of slowing down the effects of the Kuroshio Current's erosion.

It is highly effective for patients with mild infections, effectively curbing the deterioration of the condition and prolonging survival time. However, it is still ineffective and beyond saving for patients with moderate to severe infections.

The relentless advance of the Black Tide forced a large-scale migration of residents from the border regions inland. For a time, core inland city-states like Ohma even witnessed a resurgence of the bubble-like prosperity of the Golden Age.

This brief period of prosperity, built on refugee crises and fear, was firmly etched in the memory of the newly established Senate in Ohma, becoming the so-called "Belle Époque" that they later frantically reminisced about and praised when the bubble burst.

They indulged in this illusory glory, fearing any change that might disrupt the status quo, escaping the brutal struggles of the outside world, yet fighting for power and profit internally, engaging in ugly power games.

Bertrand Russell witnessed all of this and called it the most insane, bloodiest, and darkest period in the history of Onphalus. In this brutal law of the jungle, the Senate system ultimately and by a narrow margin completely replaced the ancient aristocratic political foundation and became the mainstream.

However, the turmoil and noise of the outside world seemed irrelevant to the sages of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden. Although Russell was one of the Seven Sages, he possessed an invisible prestige that commanded the entire Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden.

This prestige stems not only from his astonishing qualifications spanning a long period of time, but also from his legendary personal experiences, his selfless and enormous contributions to the development of medicine, and his terrifying academic abilities that are beyond the reach of most people.

Over the course of a millennium, Russell had thoroughly studied all the treasures of knowledge left by Serhith. The mysterious transformations of alchemy, the relentless forging of metals, the life-and-death mysteries of medicine, the profound philosophical speculations, the rigorous laws of natural science… In every field, he reached a pinnacle that surpassed all other sages, earning the sincere admiration of all scholars.

His experience of walking alongside the legendary Titan of Reason, Serhith, made every word he spoke carry immense weight in the hearts of the scholars of the Divine Tree Court.

Turning the pages of Onfaros's weighty historical records, one can always find Bertrand Russell's figure active within them. For those tireless historians, being able to consult this "walking, living historian" in person and receive his personal answers is itself a supreme honor and enjoyment.

More importantly, in the lineage of the other six sages of the Divine Enlightenment Tree, countless generations of sages and core scholars have come directly or indirectly from Russell's school and have received his teachings and influence.

This makes the power structure within the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court far more stable than that of the ever-changing city-states outside, thus maintaining the purity of scholarship.

Under the protection of Russell's unwavering principle of academic neutrality, the Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden became an extremely precious haven of thought in a world of strife, isolated from the violence and intrigue of the outside world.

Bertrand Russell sat in his position of wisdom for a thousand years. In those thousand years, the ordinary people inside and outside the Tree Garden have experienced nearly a hundred generations of life and death.

Witnessing humanity's relentless slaughter and petty squabbles even as a formidable enemy loomed ever closer to annihilation, Russell sometimes deeply understood the root of Serhith's disappointment with humanity. He had earnestly offered advice and bluntly warned against what needed to be said.

Since they remain so determined to indulge in their greedy dreams, let them be. The flames of greed will ultimately consume them.

Russell, on the other hand, wanted to lead everyone in the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court to focus single-mindedly on the ultimate research to combat the Black Tide. Therefore, he repeatedly reduced other non-core research topics, and the vast majority of the Tree Court's human and material resources were firmly directed towards Black Tide research and defense projects.

There were, however, criticisms from the outside world. Some accused Russell of losing his compassionate heart as a healer, turning the Divine Tree Garden into his personal property and tool, and stifling academic diversity.

Russell chose to remain silent in the face of these criticisms, refusing to comment. He firmly believed that time would ultimately prove whether the path he had chosen was correct.

The scholars within the Divine Enlightenment Tree Garden never perceived him as autocratic. On the contrary, they regarded him as a kind, approachable, and profoundly wise teacher.

He never demanded that anyone achieve earth-shattering feats; he only earnestly hoped that every person who has acquired knowledge, no matter where they choose to go in the future, can use their knowledge to truly benefit the local area and help those in need.

The criticism from the outside world did not stop other city-states from continuously sending their best young students to study at the Divine Tree Academy. Russell accepted this without question.

At this moment, under his inspiration and leadership, the seven major schools of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court displayed unprecedented unity, abandoning their past sectarian prejudices and uniting all their wisdom and strength to face the dark tide that, like a heavy shadow, was closing in step by step and devouring everything...

Tuk-tuk-tuk——

A clear and restrained knocking abruptly interrupted the low hum of the precision instruments in Russell's laboratory and his focused thoughts.

"Teacher," came the respectful yet subtly nervous voice of a young student from outside the door, "a guest requests an audience with you. The person... their identity is somewhat special. Are you available at this moment?"

Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Thirteen - Following in Footsteps

"Who is it? Did he give his name?" Russell put down the faintly glowing reagent tube in his hand and began to tidy up the slightly messy lab bench, putting the various clearly marked test tubes back in their place.

"Teacher, it's Senior Iser. He says he wants to see you." The young student's voice came clearly from outside the door.

“Iser…” This name instantly pulled Russell’s thoughts back to the distant past.

Iser was the most brilliant genius among the students he had taught a century ago. In just one year, this young man single-handedly completed all the general courses for new students in the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court—a considerable portion of which he had initially learned by secretly auditing the classes.

He came from humble origins, was not recommended by any major city-state, and had no distinguished background or acquaintances to introduce him.

What sustained him to the entrance of the Divine Enlightenment Tree was only an almost obsessive dedication to knowledge. Years ago, he appeared outside the tree's gate, ragged and disheveled, his eyes burning with a pure thirst for knowledge.

Because he lacked formal enrollment procedures, this stubborn boy would use cleaning the courtyard as an excuse to frequently sneak into various lecture halls and hide in corners to eavesdrop on the lectures of the sages.

The sages did not expel him. Such a pure and intense thirst for knowledge was, in their eyes, a gift in itself, a spark of knowledge worth sharing.

Over time, Russell also noticed this silent figure who always appeared in different corners of the classroom. He wondered how far this seemingly gifted boy could go on this path.

With Russell's tacit approval, Iser qualified to take the entrance exam. The result was astonishing; he came out on top among many well-prepared students and naturally became a formal student of the Divine Tree Garden.

After that, Iser's learning ability became even more astonishing. Just as Russell had followed in the footsteps of Serhith, he mastered the basic medical system that Russell had taken twenty-five years to master in just ten years. He even went further and touched upon the innovations and profound insights that Russell had accumulated over the next thousand years.

Faced with such speed and depth, even Bertrand Russell couldn't help but exclaim in admiration: "Amazing talent. Ten years is equivalent to a thousand years of my theoretical foundation. His future is limitless."

Russell knew little about where Iser went after graduation. He only heard bits and pieces that, like himself in his youth, he had embarked on a medical career, his footsteps traversing war-torn lands.

He tried to use his medical skills and actions to stop the senseless killing. Knowing it might be futile, he persisted, just as he had stubbornly stood outside the lecture hall eavesdropping years ago.

Similarly, he inherited his teacher's deep concern for the Black Tide. That calamity, seemingly faltering yet carrying a devastating threat, was also a mystery he longed to unravel.

"Teacher, are you still there? Is there anything I can do for you?" The voice outside the door, carrying a hint of inquiry, brought Russell back to reality from his reverie.

“Hmm,” Russell composed himself. “Arrange a quiet meeting room. Tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He deftly removed the special protective suit that covered his entire body to isolate him from the black tide particles, and let out a long breath, as if he had unloaded an invisible burden.

Then, he quickly tidied his hair, which was somewhat disheveled from several days of experiments, and checked his appearance against a smooth metal plate on the wall. Once he was sure his appearance was acceptable, he pushed open the heavy laboratory door and walked towards the prepared reception room. His face was expressionless, only calm.

……

Standing in front of the lounge door, Russell took a deep breath. He had experienced countless teacher-student reunions like this over the long course of a thousand years, but each time, the underlying tension was just as intense as the first time.

He clearly remembered that when Iser left the Divine Tree Garden a hundred years ago, he was a boy with jet-black hair and eyes as bright as amber. At that time, his eyes were sharp, full of the confidence of a newborn calf that was not afraid of tigers, as if no hardship or danger in the world could stop him from moving forward.

Russell took another deep breath to calm himself and turned the doorknob.

However, when his gaze fell on the figure on the lounge chair, he couldn't help but freeze, his breath catching in his throat slightly.

“Teacher, you’ve arrived…” an elderly man with a hunched back and a full head of white hair said in an extremely weak and hoarse voice, his cloudy eyes looking at Russell at the door.

“You look… just as vibrant as ever. As for me… I’m old and frail.” He let out a dry chuckle, his voice like the pumping of an old bellows, rough and abrasive, as if phlegm were rolling deep inside.

Her once thick black hair has become sparse and gray. Her youthful and confident face is now covered with deep wrinkles, and her loose skin is like crumpled paper.

The once upright back is bent under the weight of time. Those amber eyes that once reflected a determined light are now cloudy, their drooping eyelids obscuring most of their brilliance. Even the teeth are few and far between.

Based on his extensive experience in medicine over a thousand years, Russell knew immediately upon hearing this voice that Iser's life was as fragile as a candle flickering in the wind.

His breath was faint, his pupils were dilated, and his chances of survival were slim. No detailed diagnosis was needed; the outcome was already predetermined.

Both sides tacitly avoided direct topics about the illness. Russell believed that, given Iser's medical expertise and personality, he would never have returned at this time unless he knew his end was near.

“This day was bound to come,” Russell said, sitting down in the chair opposite Iser, his expression calm and composed, though his heart was in turmoil. “Let’s put aside our reminiscing for now. Is there something important you need to discuss with your teacher today?”

“Uh…” Iser’s voice was so weak it was almost inaudible, “Actually… it’s nothing important, teacher. It’s just… when you get old, you just want to go home and visit. I miss… home.” He coughed a few times with difficulty, a hollow echo resounding from his chest.

“And then there’s…” He paused, and with trembling hands, he struggled to pull out a handful of various plant materials, each exuding a peculiar medicinal fragrance, from the well-worn medical kit he carried with him.

He carefully pushed the herbs onto the table in front of Russell. "These...herbs...I...won't need them anymore. Leaving them with you, teacher...should...help more people in need..."