The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

Book group: 617289881

Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Sixteen - The Saintess's Scheme

“Miss Saint, you are not sick at all, are you?” Russell’s voice rang out in the Saintess’s private room in the Temple of Destiny’s Three Phases, calm yet with a penetrating power.

He was treating Saint Tirispius of Janusapolis.

This saint was exceptionally beautiful. When Russell first saw her, he felt as if she were enveloped in a faint, almost divine light. Janusapolis's specially made saintly attire further accentuated her ethereal beauty.

Her azure eyes were filled with longing and anticipation for the future, while her bright red wavy hair added a touch of maturity beyond her years, making her look nothing like a twenty-year-old girl.

It was this excessive "healthy state" that aroused Russell's suspicions. People who are truly seriously ill often have pale or abnormal complexions, dull eyes, and listless spirits.

But Tirispeius had a rosy complexion, bright and spirited eyes, and exuded a vibrant life force.

At this moment, Russell's brow furrowed slightly. As a doctor, it's not terrible for a patient to be sick; what's terrible is when a patient insists they are sick, while all the test results point to—that they are perfectly healthy.

Inside the Saintess's room in the Temple of the Three Phases of Destiny, only the two of them were present. The ever-present guardians from the Senate had been cleverly excluded.

Although the Senate now holds real power in the city-state, the forces that support the Holy Maiden remain united around her, forming a force that cannot be ignored. In particular, the mysterious death of the previous Holy Maiden, Metheus, forced the Senate to relinquish some power to quell the unrest.

Therefore, they were faced with two figures they could not afford to offend: Russell, a religious symbol to whom they had to show outward respect, and the leader of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court, who had extensive connections.

The Senate's high-ranking officials, feeling guilty, chose to avoid the situation. After discussion, it was decided that Russell would treat the saintess alone, and others would not be allowed to enter, citing the need to avoid suspicion. Even the regular guards inside the hall were "coincidentally" given a day off, leaving only basic patrols on the perimeter.

These people were preoccupied with scrambling for the scraps of power in front of them, blind to the Black Tide that was closing in from afar and threatening to engulf the world. This shortsightedness was not unique to Janusapolis; a disdain for the Black Tide permeated the entire upper echelons of Onfaros. Janusapolis even used their "interpretation" of the Three Titan Oracles' oracle to openly deny Russell's warning of the Black Tide's world-ending destruction.

"No matter how strong Russell is, can he be stronger than the Titans who created the world? Janus's oracle has clearly stated that the Black Tide is nothing more than a minor threat, let alone the destruction of the world." Such arguments were rampant three hundred years ago, and they completely shattered Russell's plan to unite the entire Onphalus to fight against the Black Tide.

From that time on, Russell viewed those in power with only pity for the terminally ill. He closed the doors of the Divine Tree Garden and devoted all his energy to technological research. He'd rather conduct more experiments than argue with fools.

A group of short-sighted individuals controlling Janusapolis is a misfortune for the people of this land.

This city-state, still basking in the afterglow of its golden age, maintained a distorted prosperity on the surface. Russell observed with detachment that this once-gateway city, under the corrosive influence of the Senate, would ultimately decline.

But this had little to do with him, the doctor. He had tried to wake them up, and what was the result? If they had listened to even a single word, the situation wouldn't have become so chaotic.

Janusapolis, who could unite the nations, reveal destiny, and serve as a leader, had long since been shattered in the power struggles.

Russell had prepared numerous treatment plans for this trip, in case the saint contracted some intractable disease. Now it seems that these preparations were probably all useless.

No matter how skilled a doctor is, they cannot cure a healthy person.

He used several methods to test her, and the results all pointed to the same fact: the saintess was in excellent health and showed absolutely no signs of serious illness. The girl was faking her illness.

Why was she feigning a serious illness? Russell, who had lived for over a thousand years, instantly sensed something unusual. A thought flashed through his mind: Had he been manipulated? Used as a tool to achieve some purpose by this seemingly holy woman?

When Tirispius finally spoke, Russell was completely certain of his guess.

Having lived for over a thousand years, I was tricked and deceived here by a girl who had just turned twenty!

Russell's usual gentle smile vanished instantly. Anyone who discovers they've been deceived and used would find it difficult to remain cheerful, even if the other party is a junior.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Russell. I know it’s very unethical to do this,” Tirispius said, pressing his palms together, closing his eyes, and bowing deeply to Russell, his face full of apology. “But I really… need your help.”

Her eyes were clear and sincere, without any cunning or deceit, which made it difficult for Russell to react for a moment.

“A few months ago, Eulonis… personally delivered an oracle to me.” Tirispius slowly rose, his voice heavy. “He said: ‘If you wish to do your will, seek the amber beside the great tree.’”

If the Senate hadn't been so vigilant, she wouldn't have resorted to such a desperate measure, using deception to invite Russell. Deceiving a physician who had practiced medicine in Onphalus for a thousand years and possessed a benevolent heart also tormented her deeply.

But she firmly believed that the prophecy her mother brought from Cephalos was no falsehood. Onphalos's time was running out! She could no longer be that canary kept in a splendid cage, content with a carefree but meaningless life.

She must open the cage, spread her wings, and spread the prophecies left by Cephalus, awakening people to reunite against the Black Tide, until the crucial re-creation is completed.

Right now, the only person who can help her achieve this goal is Russell, who attempted to unite the entire Onfaros against the Black Tide three hundred years ago. While the positions of others are ambiguous, Russell's position was clear and firm a thousand years ago.

Time was of the essence, and there was no time to lose. Faced with the threat of death, the torment of conscience seemed less agonizing. For the sake of Onphalus's survival, she couldn't care less about anything else.

Moreover, she believed that Mr. Russell would certainly understand the difficulties behind this.

For millennia, all of Onfaros has known that Russell was working tirelessly to combat the Black Tide and perpetuate civilization. Whether the world judged him as a futile worryer, as pretentious, or as someone who genuinely admired him, it doesn't matter.

But no one can deny everything he sacrificed for it. Thanks to his efforts, people finally had some weak means of resistance against the Black Tide.

Therefore, as long as the real reason is revealed, the senior should not hold a grudge against her. In fact, his attitude might immediately change from anger to support—after all, he must also extremely dislike those guys in the Senate.

A week after receiving the oracle, Tirispius had already sketched out the plan in his mind.

While the Senate did not place great importance on the Holy Maiden, they were absolutely unwilling to see her die unexpectedly. The tradition of various city-states seeking medical help from the Divine Tree Court had existed for over a century.

So, if she could just conveniently feign a serious illness, the Senate would surely summon Russell. Once Russell stepped into this chamber, her plan would be half successful. As for persuading Russell… she was confident.

Amber Seed Medicine Scroll: Chapter Seventeen - Using Persuasion on Russell

Tirispeius's plan to feign illness has officially begun.

She began refusing to eat, citing her depressed mood and constant anxiety. Furthermore, she meticulously crafted a persona of a melancholy and increasingly frail individual, based on descriptions of symptoms in obscure Onphalus texts.

Every morning, she would meticulously apply a sickly makeup, mimicking the various states of a seriously ill patient, from mild discomfort to terminal illness.

Over the course of several months, she described her "illness" as becoming increasingly severe, sometimes even making herself feel as if she were truly afflicted by the disease.

Such a level of disguise should not have fooled any experienced doctor. However, Janusapolis's Senate had already isolated itself from the entire medical community.

Back then, it was they who, for their own selfish interests, falsely conveyed divine pronouncements and brutally thwarted Russell's plan to unite Onphalus against the Black Tide.

Although Russell himself did not explicitly announce sanctions, his students, scattered throughout the city-states, were far less lenient than their teacher. A centuries-old medical sanction against the Senators of Janusapolis quietly began and continues to this day.

The doctors trained by the Divine Tree Court still enthusiastically treat the ordinary people of Janusapolis, but for the members of the Senate, it is difficult to find good doctors unless they publicly admit their mistake in slandering Russell.

These elders naturally refused to admit their mistakes, as that would severely undermine the foundation of their power. Thus, the stalemate has continued to this day. As it turns out, it is the elders who have suffered the most in this protracted struggle.

This is why Tirispius's flawed performance miraculously achieved the desired effect.

Her timing was also extremely clever—it coincided with a crucial period of power transition within the Janusapolis Senate. With the senators busy vying for power and seats, who had the time or inclination to pay attention to a canary locked in a cage?

By the time the Senate realized that the saint's condition had "deteriorated," she was already "terminally ill," barely breathing, as if she would perish at any moment. The few doctors they hastily summoned merely glanced at her carefully painted "ill appearance" and hastily concluded that there was no hope of recovery, suggesting that they seek other skilled doctors.

These doctors, who were pushed forward, were already of limited skill. Faced with such a "serious illness," they would avoid it like the plague—if the Holy Maiden died during their "treatment," the Senate would definitely use them as scapegoats to be buried alive.

Driven by the faction that supports the saint, conspiracy theories about the Senate plotting to murder the saint again quickly spread in Janusapolis.

The previous mysterious death of the saint had already shaken the foundations of the Senate. If Tirispius were to suffer another mishap, their rule might truly face the same fate as Louis XVI.

The bitter fruits of the Senate's years of tyranny finally erupted at this moment. When they tried to rely on the support of the people, they were shocked to realize that their hands were already stained with filthy blood, and all that remained in the eyes of the people was fear.

In a panic, they had no choice but to send a delegation at breakneck speed to the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court to seek medical help, fearing that the slightest delay would mean the Holy Maiden would be gone forever. They then immediately went down to be with the Holy Maiden. ...

“I think the amber beside the giant tree can only point to you, Mr. Russell.” Tirispius pointed to a huge bookshelf on one side of the bedroom, where various historical books and records of local customs from the beginning of the Warring States period to the present day were neatly stacked.

“I have reviewed the historical records of Onphalus over the past decade, and you are the only person who fits both of these key images.” Her analysis was clear and logical.

After Tirispius's in-depth research, Russell was indeed an indispensable key element of her plan. The oracle of Eulonis was very likely true.

With the help of this "amber beside the giant tree," escaping Januspolis would not be difficult. The Senate might dare to act against the saintess, but they would certainly hesitate to act against a behemoth like Russell, whose influence spans the entire continent.

More importantly, once she persuaded Russell, she would no longer be alone, but would have the support of the towering tree of the Divine Tree Court, enabling her to spread the Oracle of Cephale even further.

Russell also realized that if the Senate hadn't been so suffocatingly strict in its control over this new saintess, how could she have had so much time to pore over those dry historical materials? It seemed that was indeed the case.

“Therefore, in order to fulfill the mission in my heart, I have no choice but to see you in this way,” Tirispieeus said sincerely, crossing her arms over her chest in a prayerful gesture. “Otherwise, the Senate would never allow me to have any real contact with the outside world.” She silently prayed that the spirit of her mother Methes in heaven would help her persuade the doctor before her.

Although she was full of confidence when she made the plan, she was still uneasy when she actually faced this legendary figure. Her composure just now was a forced act; she had swallowed countless mouthfuls of nervous saliva.

What she feared most was that Russell would reject her plan outright after hearing it, and even inform the Senate of it.

But Russell didn't leave and continued to listen. As long as they continue to treat each other with sincerity, the lessons his mother taught should yield good results.

“You are very clever, Miss Saint.” Russell’s tone was calm and even, but alarm bells were ringing in his heart. “But the one who is fooled is never happy.” He knew that a confident man like Tirispius would never risk setting up such a scheme unless he was absolutely certain that he could convince himself.

Metheus's daughter is no ordinary woman. To fool a doctor with thousands of years of experience is extremely costly. If she wants to get him on board, she must come up with a compelling reason.

The reason given by the saint—which concerned the survival of Onphalus—was precisely one that Russell could not refuse.

Anything directly related to the Titans becomes of paramount importance. The fact that the Titan Oronis of the Mysterious Ages took the initiative to contact this saintly woman indicates that He had foreseen something crucial in the future.

“Mr. Russell, I know you. A few words are not enough to sway you.” Tirispius gently tucked a stray strand of red hair behind his ear, his eyes keenly observing the subtle changes in Russell’s expression. “The following content is the key to whether we can cooperate.”

Russell's expression became subtle, a hint of barely suppressed curiosity being quietly aroused.

……

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Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Eighteen - For Tomorrow's Blue Sky

“I know that for the past thousand years, you have been fighting against the Black Tide and saving Onpharos.”

"But on the night her mother left... she also received a final prophecy from Kephale."

“Oh?” A sharp glint flashed in Russell’s eyes. “The Oracle of Cephale? Miss Saintess, you have certainly piqued my interest. Please continue.”

Russell's expression appeared calm, but his mind was racing. The possibility that Tirispius was lying was extremely slim.

He clearly remembered that the previous Saint Metheus of Januspolis performed the oracle ceremony on the very day Cephalus fell. Receiving the oracle at that particular juncture was entirely reasonable.

“The world will eventually be swallowed by the Black Tide,” Tirispius’s voice was deep and clear, his gaze fixed on Russell. “Only by gathering all twelve sparks and completing the rebirth can Onphalus have any hope of being reborn.”

Russell's heart sank. Gather all the sparks? This meant… hunting down the Titans who possessed their own sparks? A spark was like a heart to a Titan; how could it be easily obtained?

He seemed to see a future filled with bloodshed and chaos—people no longer killing each other, but turning their anger towards the gods they once worshipped, all for the sake of that vague hope of rebirth.

“The prophecy says,” she continued, emphasizing each word, “that the Goldenborn will hunt down the twelve Titans, take their fire, and eventually return it, thus gaining the authority to support the entire Onpharos and initiate the rebirth.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she saw the undisguised shock on Russell's face, and her heart calmed down a little.

"This is truly..." Russell's voice carried a hint of bitterness, "the cruelest joke the world has ever played on the Onphalus. To swing a sword at the gods they once revered? How much blood and tears are soaked behind this prophecy!"

He sighed. He had thought that uniting all the city-states against the Black Tide was already an insurmountable challenge, but the prophecy instructed the Golden Race, ostracized by the major city-states, to shoulder the heavy responsibility of slaying the gods and sacrificing themselves for the re-creation of the world. This was undoubtedly a more perilous and thorny path.

“Mr. Russell, you have been fighting the Black Tide for a thousand years. But the prophecy indicates that the Black Tide may not have a thousand years left to completely engulf Onpharos.” Tirisippius’s tone was urgent.

"Therefore, my pursuit of freedom is not out of selfish desire. I hope that after escaping with your help, I can bring this divine oracle concerning survival to every person in every city-state!"

"As a saintess, my proclamation should be able to raise awareness among more people. When people have truly witnessed the terror of the Black Tide, perhaps they will be able to lay down their swords and unite temporarily."

"In addition to your extensive network and prestige across the continent," she looked earnestly at Russell, "we have a great chance to unite the power of a significant portion of the city-states to jointly fight against the Black Tide!"

Russell nodded silently. The scholars of the Divine Tree Garden had already made pessimistic predictions, believing that the end of Onphalus was imminent, and its destruction was only a matter of time.

Their calculations also pointed to a timeframe of less than a thousand years. When all possibilities have been exhausted, what remains is often boundless despair.

Russell maintained a facade of confidence in front of his students, but he couldn't afford to collapse before disaster truly struck. Time was running out, but it wasn't time to give up completely.

The fact that this imprisoned saint possessed such crucial information is almost inexplicable without the guidance of Titan power. This undoubtedly adds a layer of weighty credibility to her prophecies.

This idea began to tip the scales in Russell's mind. If even the Titans foresaw the final outcome and delivered revelations, how could he continue to stand idly by and wait for his doom?

He will strive for the goal of recreating the world, but he will never stop his efforts to eliminate the Black Tide before the new world arrives!

This prophecy sounds unfounded and lacks any empirical basis. But only Russell himself knew how many times he had futilely struggled against the Black Tide over the past thousand years.

His research reached an insurmountable bottleneck three hundred years ago. No matter how many projects he invested in or how many experiments he conducted, the mysterious and ever-changing nature of the Black Tide was like an insurmountable wall, pushing this sage, who had spent thousands of years in the laboratory, to his limit.

Whenever dawn seems to break, the nature of the Black Tide changes mysteriously, becoming as cunning as if it possesses a life of its own, and the monsters it breeds wreak havoc and slaughter across the land of Onpharos. It is precisely because of the terrifying pressure brought by the Black Tide that the city-states have been forced to maintain this fragile peace for nearly fifty years.

The matter concerned the Titans' oracle, its weight enough to shake anyone's resolve, especially for Russell, currently mired in his research. It seemed he could no longer remain aloof from the bloody arena of power in Janusapolis. He had to rescue the saintess.

Tirispius astutely noticed the wavering in Russell's eyes. The greatest obstacle to persuasion is a hardened heart; once hesitation and reflection begin, success is within reach.

“Miss Saint,” Russell finally spoke, his voice steady with determination, “I agree to help you leave Janusapolis. Now, let’s talk about the specific plans.”

For him, conventional research methods were no longer sufficient to uncover the truth of the Black Tide. It was better to believe that this saint could bring new variables, perhaps even opening a crack in the bleak future and letting in a glimmer of light.

What if... the Titans' oracle is the final answer to ending this cataclysmic disaster? If that's the case, perhaps the end isn't so far away.

Failure merely foreshadows the inevitable end—proving that even the Titans' prophecy cannot withstand the Black Tide.

If fate has already written the script, then Russell is willing to be the gambler who bets everything, playing against the invisible house. Even if the price is himself, he is willing to pay it.

His only wish was for this world to continue. If those Golden Descendants could truly accomplish what he had failed to achieve in a thousand years, he would unhesitatingly give his full support.

Power was never his pursuit. His centralized management of the Divine Enlightenment Tree Court was only for the purpose of more efficiently researching and combating the Black Tide.

Every step he takes now is to restore a clear blue sky to the people of Onfaros, so that the glory of the golden age can one day return to this land.

He was willing to sacrifice himself for this goal without hesitation. Russell's personal story ended a thousand years ago.

What is unfolding now is the chapter of "Amber Healer". He will use his actions to prove a belief: a doctor can not only heal physical pain, but also attempt to heal the world's deepest ailments.

Of course, the golden age that Russell longed for was completely different from the so-called "golden age" imagined by those worms in the gutter of the Senate, which was centered on them.