Damned Healer

Remira waved Hirel and the others to wait, then ran up to Darian's side. After that, they moved through the sect, led by the Leader.

Along the way, Darian saw countless people staring at him with coldness — those looks weren't friendly at all. Clearly that dean had already told everyone about an intruder who'd broken the barrier to get into the sect.

Darian didn't bother giving them the time of day. As for Remira... when she spotted a few people she knew in the crowd, she flipped them off with a look of pure contempt.

They were all the people who'd bullied her during that time. Now those same people didn't dare act rude in front of the Sect Leader. Everyone bowed as he passed. But Remira walked right behind him, waving like she was saying they didn't need to bow to her either, which only made the crowd angrier.

Darian watched quietly and chose to ignore it, turning his attention to the sect's weird buildings. He'd never seen a place so huge made entirely of metal. Even the paving stones were metal; the whole place gave off a distinct vibe.

When they got close to the main building, their path was blocked by a group of eleven figures.

"Those are the other Deans," Remira said with a sarcastic smile. That other Dean had summoned them to block the Leader's path. None of them looked friendly.

"Leader, this man is the murderer who killed several disciples. How can you protect him like this? How will you explain this to everyone?" one Dean snarled.

Remira laughed scornfully. "Who do you think you are? You have no moral high ground. I don't see you out on the battlefield, but you sure act arrogant in your little den. If you've got any skill, calm the chaos out there. We need glorious people like you fighting and sacrificing to win, not you cowardly clowns."

Everyone narrowed their eyes. Remira's arrogance and gall always shocked them. From the moment she'd arrived at the sect, even weak she acted like it was her playground and nobody mattered. She'd been suppressed and punished countless times, but she never changed.

Darian looked them over... then noticed more than half of them had dense, abnormal karma. Over half the sect's important figures were corrupted.

He snorted. In the Wilding Kin Sect, the High Elders and the leader were sensible folks, so he'd won them over quickly. Here it would be way more complicated.

Another important point: they were all level 9 of the second realm, same as the Leader. The sect had serious personnel and resource problems, so the Leader probably made concessions to keep them, avoiding harsh measures so he wouldn't lose them.

Obviously, it wasn't working. They all thought more highly of themselves than they were, and they probably betrayed the sect to avoid dying and losing everything. A passive leader was a terrible mistake — this sect's days were numbered.

"Move aside. Whatever it is can wait until I finish speaking with the guest. If anyone dares block us again, don't blame me for harsh punishment," the Leader said dryly.

That tone surprised everyone, especially the Deans. In all their memories the Leader had always been calm and never got riled. But for some reason, something changed today. It was like he'd finally found some backbone.

The Deans fell silent. As the Leader resumed walking, they opened a path.

Darian didn't even look at them and kept going. Remira strolled right behind him with a smug grin, flipping the bird.

In the Leader's spacious office, the three of them sat down.

The Leader suddenly bowed. "Sir... I hope you're not too disappointed in our sect."

"Looks like things aren't as bad as I first thought. Or this sect is full of complete idiots," Darian said dryly. "You pretend you can't beat outside forces while spectacularly fighting and killing each other inside?"

Darian couldn't sense any real concern from the sect people. They seemed more intent on squabbling among themselves, wasting their energy on their own people.

The Leader shook his head. "Unfortunately, the elders have lived too long under the enemy army's oppression. They lost hope, so they oppress others to give meaning to their lives. That's how the world is. But without those people, the world wouldn't produce any true heroes."

Remira and Darian were surprised and nodded. The Leader actually sounded wise.

In peacetime, only weak people exist. But in a crisis, life's brutal and idiots pop up everywhere, pressing down on the weak. Only in that environment do true heroes find a whetstone to forge themselves.

"You let them be on purpose?" Remira asked, astonished.

"In part, yes. When I took over the sect, many traitors were already infiltrated. I could try to eradicate them, but I don't have enough strength and would end up dead uselessly because of them."

"I've been at level 9 of the Dark Saint realm for a long time, and like me, everyone knows they can't break through. Only someone young and determined could smash everything and bring hope back to the sect. So I used what I had to keep them under control, preventing the sect's destruction. Then I put my hopes in creating a hero among the disciples... at first I thought that someone might be you," he said, looking Remira in the eyes.

"These idiots are the stones that press on the young. Heroes die quietly under immense pressure, or suddenly explode and ascend like dragons. If you want to soar at once, you have to free yourself from the stones, break your shackles and snap your reins. Unfortunately, you never exploded... you always looked for something to protect you and waited..."

From the day Remira joined the sect, he'd seen the qualities he wanted in her: talent, and more importantly, courage and a total lack of fear. So when others bullied her, he watched without stepping in, waiting for the day Remira would snap from the pressure.

But… she never even came close to snapping, and he never understood why.

"Screw it," Remira spat, indifferent. "I helped found this damn sect and I was its vice-leader. Then I got demoted to some plain, mediocre disciple…"

The Leader heard that and his eyes narrowed. She was implying again that she was someone important from a long-ago past.

"All my power was taken. I knew it would take centuries to get back up… but the missionary was already sent, and he'd show up long before that to fix things. So why should I care? I just waited patiently to get my revenge."

Remira finished, then noticed the Leader's disbelief and snorted: "Murral, you're the leader of this sect. Who created the technique that gave the sect its name?"

He sighed. "Everyone knows that — the first vice-leader…"

"No, they know what I let them know. I said the technique was created by me. But I'm sure I told that bastard who was the first leader, and he must've left that secret in his notes, right?" she said flatly, and Leader Murral's face changed.

"Yes, the technique's creator was my father, the one people call the Chromaraic God. I only adapted it to be simpler for everyone to use and told the disciples I was the creator just to boast," she finished quickly, with a careless look.

Leader Murral was stunned. It was almost impossible for anyone but the leader to know that.

The first leader's notes were the sect's most secret thing; only the leader could read them, and he couldn't tell anyone. Even if something leaked over time, a simple disciple with no past like Remira shouldn't have known.

"Divine Seven-Star Sect… wait? The technique your father made and you taught here, what's it called?" Darian turned to Remira and asked.

"I think it was called… Seven Elemental Stars Physique," Remira answered lightly. "It was something mediocre my father made, deliberately incomplete and easy to learn, so folks of your race with weak bodies could use it. He spread it through a few universes… you know it?"

Darian nodded, sighing. That mediocre technique was the greatest treasure of his empire. But the fact her father made it weak and incomplete is exactly what let Darian evolve it. After adding the two phoenix inheritances and the power of his rings, that star physique was now very different from the original.

"What I left in this sect is an even weaker version of the original technique. So absolutely all Chromaraics can learn it," she added.

Darian understood now. He noticed everyone in the city he'd saved, and those he'd seen inside the sect, were Chromaraics. Since their core technique worked only for that bloodline or variants of it, other races rarely joined the sect.

"WAIT?! Y-you… really… no, that's impossible!" Finally, Leader Murral spoke, shaken.

Remira snorted. "Believe what you want. I always said who I was and never lied. But… I know it's hard to believe. Back then I was in the Devil King realm. I came back after a long time, and I've even regressed to Dark Saint."

Darian turned to her and asked the key question: "What happened? You're way different from when I last saw you."

Remira took a deep breath…

"It's my fault… when I returned… I was near a city that used to be run by that Dohans bastard. So I attacked with my full power, destroyed it and killed everyone…"

"But only later I found out… they were people from a clan who refused to bow, so they were enslaved and taken there to work, forced to collect resources like lifeless puppets. It wasn't my fault! They even had a statue of him in the city center!"

Darian stared at her.

Murral started trembling and stammering, "The disaster… the Thundercloud City… that vanished… only a crater was left overnight… and over half a million people…"

She puffed out her chest and sighed. "Well, it's done. I was furious after being captured and sealed for so long… I didn't think much… anyway, I know I was wrong."

Darian didn't need her to finish. Her father, who punished and sealed her there, surely monitored everything she did. After that horrific act he must've been furious and punished her even more harshly.

That's why she lost the little power she had left. Her terrifying immortal bloodline was reduced to something ordinary like everyone else's — he even dropped her realm to the initial level for this stage of the trial. All so she had to suffer and climb back up.

Darian sighed. This woman never stopped causing trouble and making impulsive decisions. She was a walking disaster, born with a silver spoon in her mouth; no one could really compare to her.

But now she was suffering for the first time. When Darian saw her again, he noticed she'd matured a bit. Before, she'd lost almost everything except her bloodline; now, finally, her father had been sensible and taken absolutely everything from her.

Still, the lost lives wouldn't come back. At least they were enslaved people who might've preferred death to continuing as that King's puppets.

Remira puffed up like she thought it all was a bit unfair. Then she added:

"Anyway, I lost everything, but I'll get it back someday. I always relied on my bloodline and inherited talents. So I had to relearn how to fight and use what everyone used… I was reduced to a complete beginner, that's how those bastards could bully me. I knew I wouldn't be faster than a missionary… in fact, you got here way faster than I did at my peak. So I decided to help you to get out of this place, rather than try to compete with you for nothing."