Chapter 175: Holy Light vs. Shadow
The Holy Light faded.
The only sound left in the room was the low, monotonous hum of the refrigeration unit.
Everyone froze.
Not in panic.
Not in anger.
But in a brief, complete blankness.
In less than a second, the man standing before them had erased the cult leader's son from existence.
No corpse.
No blood.
Not even a trace of ash remained.
Ethan gave them no time to recover.
Holy Fire was devastatingly powerful, but its casting time was too long.
The instant the light vanished, he raised his hand and continued chanting.
"Smite."
A powerful burst of Holy damage against a single target.
Compressed Holy Light condensed instantly.
Like a bolt of lightning stretched into a perfectly straight line, it shot forward.
BOOM!
The nearest cultist didn't even have time to scream.
His body was hurled backward and slammed into the ground.
His chest caved in.
He died instantly.
A second Smite followed.
Within only a few seconds, three people were dead.
Only then did the remaining cultists finally recover from the shock of seeing their leader's son erased.
Several guns rose simultaneously.
Dark barrels pointed directly at Ethan.
His eyes swept over them.
Only one thought crossed his mind.
Shield... please hold.
"Wait!"
A woman's voice rang out from the rear.
It carried unquestionable authority.
"No shooting."
The others hesitated briefly.
Then they moved.
All of them charged forward at once.
Their objective was clear.
Restrain Ethan again.
The moment the first hand reached for his arm—
An invisible force field erupted outward.
The air seemed to split apart.
The two people in front were violently thrown backward and crashed into the refrigeration unit with heavy impacts.
Fists.
Knees.
Knives.
Batons.
Every attack slammed against the shield.
None broke through.
Ethan took a step backward and raised his hand.
Another Smite.
One more enemy fell.
Then another.
The shield still held.
But he could clearly feel it weakening.
Every strike made its edges thinner.
"Use your guns! Don't aim for vital areas!"
This time nobody objected.
Gunfire erupted.
Bullets struck the shield with strange, muffled impacts, like hammers striking a thick metal plate.
One shot.
Two.
Three.
Ripples spread across the barrier.
Then the fourth shot landed.
Crack.
The invisible protection shattered like broken glass.
Ethan reacted instinctively.
"Power Word: Shield."
Draws upon the soul's strength to create a protective barrier capable of absorbing significant damage.
A new shield appeared.
But immediately he noticed something wrong.
Its strength had dropped dramatically.
Not only was the deployment slower, but the familiar, flowing current of Holy Light felt intermittent and unstable.
Weakness spread from his chest.
As though a part of him had been forcibly torn away.
Gritting his teeth, he cast another Smite.
Another cultist collapsed.
At the same moment, the shield shattered again.
The third Power Word: Shield had only just formed—
When Ethan's vision suddenly blurred.
A piercing ringing flooded his ears.
His body instantly lost its sense of balance.
Soul exhaustion.
The Holy Light hadn't rejected him.
His body simply couldn't bear the burden anymore.
His consciousness cut out completely.
When he woke again, he found himself tied back to the chair.
His first realization was simple.
He couldn't move at all.
This time the restraints had clearly been upgraded.
Wrists.
Ankles.
Waist.
Shoulders.
Everything was secured.
Even the material felt different.
He tested the bindings.
Nothing budged.
"You're awake."
The voice came from directly ahead.
Ethan raised his head.
The lights had been dimmed.
No longer shining directly into his eyes, but still bright enough to illuminate every detail of the speaker's face.
A woman stood before him.
She stood calmly.
Arms relaxed at her sides.
No hatred.
No fear.
Only composure.
"You killed him."
Her tone was as casual as someone commenting on the weather.
Ethan licked his dry lips.
"Yes."
He shrugged slightly.
"And a few of your people too."
The woman nodded.
She didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she glanced down at the spot where the man had once stood.
Now there was only a perfectly purified patch of empty floor.
Then she looked back at Ethan.
There was still no hatred in her eyes.
Instead, she seemed to be reevaluating him.
Like a dangerous yet extraordinarily valuable tool.
"I have to admit," she finally said.
"You exceeded every expectation we had."
She tilted her head slightly.
There was even a hint of genuine admiration in her voice.
"Who would have imagined that a doctor capable of creating medical miracles and reviving the dead..."
"...would also possess such powerful, direct, unreasonable offensive abilities?"
Ethan tried moving his fingers again.
Still nothing.
He gave up struggling.
"So what now?"
He looked at her.
"Revenge?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
She stepped closer, stopping just outside what she clearly considered a safe distance.
"If this were revenge, you'd already be dead."
"And it would have been slow."
She studied him carefully.
"We still want to complete the transaction."
Ethan laughed.
His voice was hoarse.
"A transaction?"
"I just burned your companion out of existence."
"And you're still talking business?"
The woman remained completely calm.
"That was his mistake."
"And his fate."
She paused.
"Our objective has never changed."
She raised a hand and pointed toward the refrigeration unit.
"We want our father brought back."
Father.
You're his daughter?
Ethan looked at her more carefully.
Then he suddenly understood.
When she said we, she wasn't talking about herself and one other person.
She meant everyone present.
His eyes drifted toward the silent figures standing around the room.
A flood of entirely inappropriate thoughts immediately surfaced.
Do all of you have the same mother?
Just how many children did this man have?
What kind of cult was this?
Your organization is way too weird.
Ethan forcibly swallowed all of those comments.
He glanced at the corpse in the refrigeration unit and remained silent for a few moments.
"Do you people have some kind of misunderstanding about resurrection?"
His gaze returned to her.
"I've already demonstrated something."
"I don't mind killing people."
"And I certainly don't mind doing it again."
The woman shook her head gently.
"You managed that because we gave you an opportunity."
Her eyes remained calm.
"That won't happen again."
She raised a finger and made a small gesture.
The very next second—
Everyone in the room began moving.
Footsteps echoed softly behind him.
Quiet.
Disciplined.
The cultists moved into position around his back.
Once they stopped, they did only one thing—
They raised their guns simultaneously.
The metallic clicks of weapons being readied sounded unnaturally loud inside the enclosed room.
The woman remained standing directly in front of Ethan, meeting his gaze.
"I've analyzed your abilities, Doctor."
Her voice was calm and measured.
"You need to face a target in order to attack."
"And..."
She paused briefly.
"You can only attack one target at a time."
What are you, a veteran MMO raider? You figured out my casting conditions this fast?
Ethan didn't deny it.
The woman continued.
"Your defensive abilities are impressive, but they aren't unlimited."
"Your offensive abilities are lethal, but they require time."
"And your condition..."
Her eyes lingered on his face.
"...has already proven to come at a cost."
Ethan's heart sank.
She knew.
Not guessed.
Knew.
"So," she concluded calmly, "we'll use a different approach."
She raised her hand slightly.
"Starting now, there are dozens of guns behind you."
"Every one of them is aimed at your back."
"If you turn around..."
"Or attack anyone behind you..."
Her expression never changed.
"You will be riddled with bullets immediately."
Then she pointed to herself.
"And I am standing in front of you."
"You may choose to attack me."
"Or revive my father."
"If you attack me, I will die."
"And so will you."
Looking into her eyes, Ethan could tell she wasn't bluffing.
It was a brutally efficient solution.
They had locked him down completely.
"Doctor," she said one final time.
"Please begin treating my father."
There was no threat in her voice.
Only a statement of fact.
"Otherwise, you won't survive ten seconds."
A ridiculous thought suddenly flashed through Ethan's mind.
10 vs. 10 battleground.
Your healer gets caught alone.
What do you do?
Option A: Charge in heroically.
Die with dignity.
Already tried that. Dignity acquired. Death pending.
Option B: Counterattack their healer.
Problem: they don't have one.
Rush their base and steal the flag.
Tell the healer to absorb a few cooldowns and waste enemy ammo.
Maybe the team wins. I still die.
Option C: "Healer, hold on! Reinforcements are coming!"
Line-of-sight.
Crowd control.
Minor cooldowns.
Major cooldowns.
I'll try, but hurry the hell up.
Looking at the people surrounding him, Ethan felt deeply depressed.
Couldn't win.
Couldn't run.
The only thing left was to stall.
Maybe Resurrection could buy some time.
After all...
There was no way this corpse would actually come back.
He extended a hand.
Holy Light gathered once more.
"Resurrection."
Warm, gentle radiance descended onto the corpse.
Like sunlight falling upon frozen winter snow.
Life was forcibly injected back into the body.
The heart twitched.
For a single brief moment, it beat again inside the chest.
Then silence.
Permanent silence.
Holy Light flowed through the corpse.
Then abruptly stopped somewhere deep inside.
This feels... exactly like the turkey.
The same sensation.
Like a wire still connected on one end...
While the other end no longer existed.
Ethan frowned.
He closed his eyes.
Following the faint connection created during that brief instant, his consciousness was pulled somewhere far away.
And then—
He saw it.
A blurry outline.
Something incomplete.
Faint.
Fragile.
Yet undeniably present.
A soul.
After all this time, the soul still exists?
The problem was distance.
The soul felt impossibly far away.
Not elsewhere in the city.
Not elsewhere on the continent.
More like the opposite side of the Earth.
Holy Light reached for it.
And failed.
Not because it was resisted.
Not because it was rejected.
It simply couldn't reach that far.
Ethan opened his eyes.
The light faded.
"Where did your leader die?"
He looked at them.
"I can't reach his soul."
Silence.
Then someone answered.
"Europe."
Of course.
The other side of the planet.
Perfect.
A brand-new excuse to buy time.
Let's all fly there together... and somewhere along the way...
He withdrew his hand.
"Your leader's soul isn't here."
The woman answered immediately.
"So...bring it back."
"No."
"You can't?"
"No."
Her expression darkened.
"Doctor, I don't have time for jokes."
Ethan met her gaze.
"Resurrection requires the soul to return to the body."
"We need to go where he died."
"Trying here is pointless."
"The soul is too far away."
The woman shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Doctor."
"We can't take you there."
She paused.
"By now..."
"The outside may already be completely surrounded."
Ethan sighed.
Then resumed casting Resurrection.
Again.
And again.
Every attempt looked exactly like the turkey.
A few seconds of response.
Then nothing.
Connection lost.
Now what?
As Ethan desperately searched for an escape, a familiar voice returned.
A voice he hadn't heard in a long time.
Lower than before.
Closer than before.
[You don't want to save him.]
The Void Whisper.
Ethan immediately sneered internally.
No kidding.
Of course I don't.
He didn't even bother pretending otherwise.
The man lying before him was a cult leader.
God knew how many terrible things he'd done.
How much blood stained his hands.
Save him?
Not a chance.
[You're stalling.
Because you know the Holy Light cannot save him.
But even though you don't wish to save him...
The Holy Light still answered your call.
The Holy Light believes he should be saved.]
Ethan's eyebrows twitched.
Instinctively, he wanted to argue.
Yet suddenly realized—
He didn't actually have a counterargument.
The Holy Light had responded every time.
Briefly.
But undeniably.
Ethan remained silent.
Waiting.
The Void continued.
[You do not want to save him. But your will has not betrayed compassion.]
"...What?"
Ethan froze.
He didn't understand.
Then the whisper spoke again.
[The teaching of the Holy Light: No one is beyond redemption.]
For the first time, Ethan was genuinely stunned.
"Wait."
He argued instinctively.
"That's not what that means."
The Void ignored him.
[Admit it.
The Holy Light shows compassion to everyone"
And it is changing you.]
That statement brought his thoughts to a halt.
He understood the Holy Light's rules.
It never distinguished friend from foe.
It cared only about one thing:
Whether the caster genuinely felt compassion for a life in that moment.
The problem was obvious.
He didn't want to save this man.
So why did the Holy Light believe otherwise?
[See?]
The Void's voice remained calm.
Patient.
[Simply because someone is unworthy in your eyes...
Does not mean the Holy Light refuses them.]
Ethan stood motionless.
Frowning deeply.
The emptiness left behind by repeated Holy Light casts still lingered in his palm.
His fingers slowly clenched until his knuckles whitened.
The whisper returned.
[You have saved so many people.
But now...
Who will save you?]
Ethan didn't answer.
He knew someone was looking for him.
"Yes."
"They are searching."
"But if this continues..."
"They will find only a corpse."
"..."
The woman had initially allowed him to continue.
But the repeated failures had exceeded her patience.
Finally, she spoke.
"We have no road left to retreat."
Her voice remained calm.
As though everyone in the room had already accepted this fact long ago.
"You've seen all our cards."
Her gaze swept across the refrigeration unit.
The box of gold.
Then returned to Ethan.
"If he doesn't come back..."
She paused.
"We won't be going back either."
A naked threat.
Anger flared inside Ethan.
He stared at her.
Yet she looked completely sincere.
As if she wasn't threatening him at all.
Merely stating an inevitable outcome.
And suddenly Ethan understood.
They didn't want to kill him.
They were simply prepared to die together.
He was just collateral damage.
You people are seriously insane.
Eve killed him.
Go after Eve!
Why do doctors always get dragged into this nonsense?
The Void whispered again.
Low.
Calm.
Persuasive.
[There is another path.
You have always known it exists.
The choice is yours.]
The choice is mine, huh?
Ethan didn't hesitate.
Shadow energy quietly gathered in his hand.
Mind Control.
Target:
The woman leading them.
If he could take control of her, this nightmare would end.
The instant the Shadow touched her mind—
It slammed into something cold and solid.
Like stone.
The spell rebounded immediately.
Resistance.
Damn it.
Am I just bad at Shadow magic?
Or is her willpower absurdly strong?
Are cultists immune to mind control or something?
The woman clearly sensed something.
Her eyes immediately locked onto him.
No time to think.
Ethan acted instantly.
Psychic Scream!
A shrill mental shockwave exploded outward.
This time it worked.
Fear was far easier to implant than complete domination.
The room descended into panic and confusion.
Seizing the opportunity, Ethan prepared to run.
Then he changed his mind.
In a flash, he slipped into a corner and locked onto one cultist whose reaction was noticeably stronger than the others.
Mind Control.
This time—
Perfect success.
His consciousness plunged directly into the target's mind.
Without thinking, Ethan grabbed the assault rifle hanging from the man's shoulder and pulled the trigger.
Click.
No bullets.
Son of a—!
He cursed internally.
Then racked the charging handle.
Success.
RATATATATAT!
Muzzle flashes erupted.
People dropped instantly.
Bullets ricocheted wildly through the confined room.
Please don't hit me.
Please don't hit me.
I don't even have a shield right now!
Ethan prayed desperately while spraying gunfire everywhere.
Whether due to the gunshots or because Psychic Scream was wearing off, the people closest to him recovered first.
They reacted immediately.
Without hesitation, they killed the cultist Ethan was controlling.
His consciousness was violently thrown back into his own body.
He tried to cast again—
But rough hands seized him.
This time, nobody was holding back.
Several gun barrels were pressed directly against him.
Bodies lay scattered across the floor.
Blood filled the air.
Some cultists rushed to treat the wounded.
The rest completely surrounded Ethan.
"Doctor."
The woman pressed a hand against her abdomen.
She had been shot.
Fortunately, not fatally.
Yet her voice remained calm.
"Those abilities just now..."
"They were different from the others, weren't they?"
She studied him carefully.
"It seems we underestimated you."
Ethan remained silent.
"I assume you-"
She paused.
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