leonardwarren #208 - Section 208
#208 - Section 208
The door opened, and a middle-aged peasant woman with bloodshot eyes, seemingly still lost in grief, stared blankly at the doorway.
A young man in an ornate formal suit immediately came into view.
That luxurious suit, she and others of her humble status probably couldn't afford even with a lifetime of savings.
"Sir, what can I do for you?"
Looking at the wealthy and distinguished man before her, a trace of timidity flashed in the peasant woman's eyes, but she still cautiously inquired.
"I am a doctor. I heard there is a seriously ill patient here. May I come in and take a look?"
Rhode offered a gentle smile, speaking slowly.
"But, I don't have money to pay a doctor anymore."
Upon hearing this, the woman's face was initially filled with surprise, but the smile instantly faded.
"I treat the poor for free."
Rhode smiled slightly.
"Free?"
The woman looked at him with suspicion upon hearing this.
After all, she had never seen or even heard of a doctor who treated people for free.
But considering that she had nothing of value in her home that anyone could covet, the woman simply led Rhode into the house.
Treating a dead horse as if it were alive; in any case, her husband was already dying, so how much worse could the outcome be?
Stepping inside, Rhode immediately frowned.
The cramped room, the damp environment, and on the tattered, dirty wooden bed, a middle-aged man lay on the verge of death.
With just one glance, Rhode recognized the man's condition.
A cold!
"How long has your husband been sick?"
Rhode casually asked.
"About two or three days."
His breathing was intermittent, as if he would die at any moment.
An ordinary cold, although fatal in this era, shouldn't become this severe in just two or three days.
Moreover, he noticed that the life force in this man's body was frighteningly weak.
Even a starved camel is bigger than a horse.
Under normal circumstances, as long as a person is still alive, no matter how severe the illness, the life force within them wouldn't be this weak.
Even after someone dies, it takes a long time for their life force to dissipate.
It would take at least a day for the life force in their body to completely disappear.
But the life force in this guy's body seemed as if it would vanish in the next second.
It was less than that of a cat or dog.
Such a weak life force was simply illogical.
Unless, someone was secretly stealing this man's life force.
Only a wizard could have such means.
Thinking this, Rhode casually took out a vial of potion.
This was the last drop of Life Dew he had collected from the Tree of Life in the Demon Beast Forest, which he had concocted into this vial of Life Magic Potion.
If this whole vial was consumed, even someone on the verge of death could extend their life by more than a dozen years.
Originally, this drop of Life Dew was meant to be left for Mrs. Temani and her daughter to awaken their Elven bloodline.
However, after merging with the Tree of Life, he could continuously produce Life Dew, so he naturally didn't need this drop anymore.
Rhode opened the bottle and dripped a drop of Life Magic Potion from it.
The moment the magic potion landed on his body, a life force that ordinary people couldn't sense instantly bloomed.
A rich life force continuously poured into the man's body.
His pale face instantly turned rosy.
His originally intermittent breathing gradually became smooth.
After a moment, the man slowly opened his eyes.
"What... what's wrong with me?"
The man muttered blankly, suddenly seeming to remember something, a look of horror appeared on his face, and he curled up trembling in the blanket.
"Demons! There are demons!"
Listening to the man's rambling words, Rhode raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
Demons?
If someone else had said it, he might not have cared.
However, a dying man seeing demons before his death was quite interesting.
"Tell me in detail, what did you see?"
Rhode raised his hand, and a calming spell instantly calmed the man's tense emotions.
Eyeing each other, Rhode's powerful mental strength instantly mesmerized the man before him.
"I saw... demons!"
The man mumbled unconsciously, his eyes glazed over.
"A demon wearing a black cloak and holding a scythe, he was standing behind that doctor, wanting to take my life."
A black cloak?
A demon holding a scythe?
Rhode frowned, feeling that the image seemed somewhat familiar.
Isn't that the image of the Grim Reaper in Western mythology?
Could it be that this guy saw the Grim Reaper?
Rhode quickly shook his head, feeling it was unlikely.
The Grim Reaper in Western mythology reaps not life force, but souls.
If this guy really saw the soul being reaped, even if he brought out the Life Dew, it wouldn't be of any use.
Life Dew can only heal deficiencies and damage to life force and the body, it has no effect on deficiencies of the soul.
Even among wizards, magic related to the soul is the most taboo and the most difficult to master.
Even the slightest soul damage requires a great price to be paid to recover.
Not to mention, the entire soul being taken away by the Grim Reaper.
Then only a shell remains.
In this situation, let alone a drop of Life Dew, even if he squeezed himself dry, he probably wouldn't be able to save this guy.
That would be quite intriguing.
Since it's not the Grim Reaper, then what could it be?
Thinking of this, Rhode narrowed his eyes slightly. Although there was no evidence, his intuition told him that this matter was definitely related to the doctor who had just left.
"Your illness is cured, rest for a few days, don't overexert yourself."
Rhode told the man, and left amidst the peasant family's grateful thanks.
"An existence resembling the Grim Reaper..."
Interesting.
Rhode stroked his chin, his gaze fixed on the direction the doctor had left earlier.
This was the first time he had encountered something related to gods.
After all, the world's spirits have disappeared for countless years.
Even the brainwashed fanatics in the Church, who have been devoutly worshiping their Lord for so many years, have never seen their so-called God or Lord.
Everything seems like something imagined.
Suddenly, something resembling the Grim Reaper appeared. It would be a lie to say he wasn't curious.
However, Rhode didn't think that what this guy saw was really the Grim Reaper.
Otherwise, with the status of a god, even a casual glimpse would be enough to collapse the soul of an ordinary person.
Gods are not to be glimpsed, this is the suppression of higher-level beings on lower-level beings, on the level of life.
The aura inadvertently emitted by beings of the divine level is enough to plunge ordinary humans into eternal silence.
Even he couldn't save a soul devoured by a god.
Moreover, it was the Grim Reaper who controls death.
Who knows better than the Grim Reaper how to play with souls?
The Grim Reaper is definitely fake, but he is now quite curious about this guy's true identity.
"Whether it's real or fake, I'll know once I go take a look."
An idea flashed in his mind, Rhode found a deserted place, and a pair of white wings instantly appeared behind him.
The wings fluttered, and the wind intensified.
In an instant, Rhode arrived in a town that seemed fairly prosperous.
According to the information he had gathered earlier, this doctor named Harlen usually stayed at the inn in this town.
He came here in advance to see what secrets this guy named Harlen was hiding.
Standing on the roof of the inn, a stealth spell vanished into thin air.
Having landed and waited on the roof for less than twenty minutes, he saw a carriage slowly approaching.
Inside the carriage was naturally the doctor he had just met.
As the carriage approached, Rhode suddenly frowned slightly.
In this carriage, he felt a familiar aura.
A demon?
It seemed familiar yet not quite.
Although equally evil and dark, this power didn't seem to have the extreme desire for destruction that demons possess.
Instead, it gave people a sense of insidiousness and cunning.
Just as Rhode was pondering, he suddenly saw a richly dressed middle-aged man get out of a carriage beside the road.
He hurriedly walked towards Doctor Harlen's carriage.
Harlen, who was about to get out of the carriage, looked at the approaching middle-aged man with a puzzled expression.
"You must be Mr. Harlen. I am the steward of Baron David. The Baron suddenly contracted a serious illness last night and would like to invite you to come and take a look."
"As for the reward, these are the down payment."
Looking at the bag of gold pounds handed over by the steward, Harlen, who originally wanted to rest, immediately perked up.