To Hell with Being a Saint, I’m a Doctor
Chapter 117: Unraveling The Dark Conspiracy (4)

The Swordmasters, stepping into the realm of death, appeared quite composed.

Panicking in such a situation would have been of no help.

Iriel observed the middle-aged men slowly.

They showed no signs of initiating an attack.

This struck Iriel as odd.

Usually, a novice attacking a master would strike first, since taking the initiative typically offers many advantages.

But these middle-aged men showed no intention of attacking first, almost as if they were waiting for her to make the first move.

Yet, she had to engage in combat, as standing still would mean falling victim to the suicide attack of these life-disregarding Swordmasters.

Iriel tightened the divine power seeping from her hands into a denser form and aimed a strike at the shorter middle-aged man’s knee.

She didn’t expect it to hit; it was merely an attempt to find a gap.

As she initiated the attack, the middle-aged men began to fend off her strikes.

Thud - Thud -

With resounding sounds, Iriel parried their swords.

She didn’t rashly unleash an aura blade from the start, as it would be chaotic to use such mana-draining techniques without fully assessing the opponents.

The men responded in kind with their sword auras.

Feeling an inexplicable strangeness in their collision, Iriel was puzzled, but the sharp attacks from the Swordmasters left her no room for other thoughts.

She wondered only why they hadn’t rushed in with full force from the start.

Once she had roughly gauged her opponents, Iriel began to attack earnestly.

The intensity of the divine power in her hands increased, and she precisely disrupted the rhythm between the two attacking Swordmasters.

As the Swordmasters struggled to deliver full power in their strikes, they cautiously withdrew their swords.

But Iriel wouldn’t let them off so easily.

Using her hands instead of a sword, she had several advantages due to her shorter range.

Firstly, she could grab their swords.

Instantly emitting an aura blade imbued with divine power, Iriel intercepted the retreating sword of the middle-aged man and lunged at his abdomen with her other hand.

The event unfolded rapidly, and given the disparity in skill, the Swordmaster failed to react in time.

He contorted his body to evade a lethal strike, and the blade merely grazed his side.

Swoosh—

“Ugh…”

The middle-aged man emitted a faint groan.

As Iriel’s hand appeared to stab, it abruptly changed trajectory.

Her hand, initially slicing through his side, swept across his waist as though to cut him in half.

Clang!

Her assault was thwarted by the taller middle-aged man.

By this time, both men had drawn their aura blades.

Yet Iriel remained composed in the face of them.

She had been overwhelmed only by the bone dragon in the past; two Swordmasters just reaching their prime were hardly a match for her.

As proof, one only needed to observe.

The aura blades wielded by the middle-aged men were not fully formed.

Unlike Iriel’s hand, which maintained a well-defined and stable shape, the men’s auras flickered like flames—indicative of novices to mastery.

However, the true danger lay not in the aura blades themselves.

Those who push their skills to the extreme can charge their swords not only with mana but also with will.

The existence of such stories is testament to this fact.

Consider the tale of a man consumed by deep hatred, who sacrificed his life to deliver a strike that no healer could mend.

Like that legend, the real weapon of those at the pinnacle of swordsmanship is their ‘will.’

The resolve to eliminate the adversary.

A blade charged with the intent to kill doesn’t only cause a physical wound; it inflicts a wound upon the spirit, greatly hindering recovery.

Iriel knew this well.

Hence, she scrutinized her opponents’ swordplay with great care.

Her true strength lay in this:

She would analyze her adversary’s sword techniques, gauge the distance based on their height and arm reach.

She could swiftly predict where the opponent would strike and discern their tendencies during an attack.

That’s why, when the attack commenced, she had overwhelmingly more time to prepare.

The shorter man had few discernible habits, but he tended to attack more from the right.

The taller man had a habit of holding his breath before starting a combined attack.

She noticed these small details and quickly memorized them as if they were her own techniques.

Thus, there was no reason for Iriel to lose in this battle.

Initially, she was tense because she did not know their skills, but that tension had now relaxed.

It wasn’t complacency.

Knowing their skills meant she could respond appropriately, reducing the likelihood of getting hurt.

Iriel’s onslaught intensified.

She deflected both middle-aged men’s swords simultaneously with her hands and aimed for the shin of one with her foot.

As one man stepped back, he twisted his swordsmanship before Iriel could catch his blade.

The taller man then made a long slash at Iriel’s shoulder.

‘Now’s the time.’

Iriel manifested divine magic for a more effective outcome.

“Bless. Holy Seal. Holy Activation.”

She chanted the magic at an incredible speed.

Her highly skilled magic began to strengthen her body.

Thud -

Her speed in kicking off the ground was unlike before.

Her attack landed on the swords of the middle-aged men, who had quickly raised them in defense.

Clang!

Despite being wrapped in aura blades, the impact was not fully absorbed.

They were already at a disadvantage in terms of aura completeness.

While they could withstand the attacks, they couldn’t fully block them.

Even the swords trembled under the force of Iriel’s divinely enhanced strength.

Iriel pressed on.

Her hands, unlike swords, were free in retraction and thrust, now transforming into fist weapons.

Clang! Clang!

Was she planning to shatter their swords outright?

The middle-aged men clenched their teeth as she relentlessly targeted their swords.

“Grrr!”

“Retreat! Our swords won’t withstand this!”

The taller man urged the shorter one to retreat, but Iriel would not allow it.

She moved faster than they could retreat to close in on them.

After all, it was divine magic cast by a saint herself.

Even aura users, let alone Swordmasters, struggled to contend with such power.

Applying it to herself changed the dynamics of the battle completely.

Unless they were not just beginners but intermediate Swordmasters, they had no way to stop Iriel.

Iriel’s hand blade struck the shorter middle-aged man’s shoulder.

Swoosh-

“Arrgh!”

His left arm severed, the middle-aged man screamed in agony.

In response, she spun around, gaining momentum.

She quickly intercepted his aura aiming for her heart.

Boom!

Without his left hand, the flow of mana was disrupted, making it impossible to emit an aura blade.

Iriel’s hand pierced through his sword, bursting the man’s heart.

Thud-

Her aura-wrapped hand pulled out the heart, freshly pumped from the man’s chest.

Having confirmed the kill, Iriel threw herself to the ground, sensing an intense killing intent from behind.

She quickly got up, covered in dust.

“Ugh…”

The death of his companion hadn’t yielded a successful attack.

The only outcome left for him was death.

The taller middle-aged man instructed the youths.

“The plan has failed. While I buy time, run without looking back!”

“But…”

“Go now!”

One youth, after hesitating, began to help the injured and quickly started to flee.

Iriel frowned at the scene.

“It makes me sound like the villain, doesn’t it? You guys came after me first, attacked first. And you think I’ll let you run away? I’ll kill all four of you, so don’t bother with pointless thoughts.”

“…I won’t let you have your way.”

The middle-aged man gripped his sword tightly.

Iriel charged at him without hesitation.

She reached for his neck, but he didn’t try to block it.

Instead, he aimed a ferocious strike at her heart.

“A bit tough to block with one hand.”

She withdrew her hand, intending to grab his sword with both hands.

But the middle-aged man had already retracted his sword.

After an intense exchange, Iriel smiled.

“You’re quite reckless with your life.”

“My life seems cheap in comparison.”

“Fair point.”

Clang—

An aura flew towards him without warning, and he hastily raised his sword to block.

But that was a misstep.

Iriel severed his forearm with her remaining hand.

Slash—

The muscular arm was easily cut off.

“Ugh…”

Despite the pain, he hurled his sword at Iriel in the heat of battle.

His quick move left a shallow cut on Iriel’s arm.

It was insignificant.

“Heal.”

The minor wound on Iriel vanished.

For him, the wound she sustained was a glimmer of hope.

The small hope that he could inflict injury on Iriel.

But that hope vanished instantly.

She was a saint, likely capable of instant recovery from severe injuries like a severed arm or a burst heart.

He was facing an opponent with the equivalent of dozens of lives.

The middle-aged man, reeking of despair, spoke.

“You are strong…”

“I aimed to be.”

Iriel responded nonchalantly.

The middle-aged man, with a half-smile, asked her seriously.

“…Then, what if there’s a force you can’t overcome with your power? What will you do?”

Was he hinting at a hidden power behind the scenes?

Contemplating his intentions, Iriel pondered briefly before replying.

“I would seek peace or negotiate.”

“Hahaha… That’s a possibility. But, you see… the concept of peace doesn’t exist for that force.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ɴ0velFɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Then I have no choice but to annihilate them.”

“…Stronger than you? Is that even possible?”

Iriel shook her head.

“It would be impossible for me.”

“……”

“But I know two people who can.”

“I see.”

“Is that all you wanted to say before you depart this world?”

“Yes, this is the end.”

The middle-aged man smiled, seemingly relieved.

Then, he charged at Iriel with all his might.

Unleashing all the mana in his body, his speed was formidable.

Iriel, vigilant, deftly blocked his sword.

Boom!

The sound of a loud explosion filled the air as his sword continuously assailed her.

Wham! Wham!

A storm seemed to whirl around them, compressing the air.

Iriel began to infuse even more divine power into her body.

Then, an aura blade nearly a meter long burst forth from her hand.

It was formidable not just in size, but also in density.

The aura raised by the middle-aged man stood no chance against it.

As expected, when her hand met his sword, his blade was instantly cleaved.

Crackle!

Unable to dissipate the shock, his sword shattered, and his body was cleaved in half.

However, the expression on the middle-aged man’s face was one of relief.

In his final moments, with closed eyes, the middle-aged man ended his life.

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