The F-Class Healer Omega is a Villain [BL]
Chapter 33: Never been done before

Chapter 33: Never been done before

Gulping down the blood in his mouth, he looked up at Yoon Seoyul, who didn’t even so much as flinch at the sudden bite. He curiously narrowed his eyes, trying to understand his intentions.

Cheon Areum pressed his cheek against his cold skin as he whispered in his ear with a breathy voice and his eyes closed, resting for the last moment.

"Take Kim Ryung and go wait at the gate."

"No. You go and wait at the gate."

Yoon Seoyul replied back instantly and seriously.

"Yoon Seoyul!"

Cheon Areum raised his voice as high as he could.

"He’s about to collapse! Take him away from me."

"Please."

The last word was almost inaudible, as if he had used all his might in that shout. Cheon Areum’s hands unclenched as he pushed him and came face to face with Yoon Seoyul. The once unreadable expression on his face was all he could see.

"I can’t. You go wait at the gate. You’re not stronger than me."

An arrogant tone, Yoon Seoyul claimed. Cheon Areum broke into a bittersweet smile.

"You can’t fool me now... I can’t carry him, and he’ll be affected more by my pheromones if I go with them. Take him to the gate for me. You’re the only one who can do that right now."

Cheon Areum steadied himself on the ground as he spoke. Yoon Seoyul held his waist tightly, still not convinced enough to let him go.

"Inho! Hwan! Stop him!!"

Peeking from Yoon Seoyul’s side, he yelled, sparks of black energy faintly shrouding his body. Inho immediately closed his map to stop guiding Kim Ryung, and Hwan nodded vigorously, stopping laying down Kim Ryung’s hand. They were both saying something to him, but Kim Ryung shook his head silently and kept lifting his hands again, not agreeing with them. Cheon Areum pursed his lips and pushed Yoon Seoyul’s body roughly. The hands around his waist fell, and he turned away from him.

"Go already! I can’t use my abilities with you here."

A large cloud of black energy surged outward from Cheon Areum, rippling like a violent gust of wind. It swept through the entire graveyard, pushing everything and everyone away from him. From behind, Yoon Seoyul—standing just outside the entrance—staggered back. In front, the undead were flung to the edges of the graveyard.

In the eye of the storm, Cheon Areum took a step forward.

His legs trembled with exhaustion, but his steps remained firm. Sweat trailed down his jaw as he wiped it away, only to stumble a second later on a patch of uneven grass.

He collapsed.

Knees hitting the ground first, he remained there—body refusing to rise. The world tilted in his eyes, colors bleeding into one another. The graveyard was silent again, but the silence was heavy, stretched taut with the danger that was Cheon Areum himself. The undead were still hesitant to attack him.

You won’t know unless you try it, right?

The chances of us surviving if I don’t do anything are there—but very slim. The chances of me successfully subduing all of them and not dying are also slim, but more than the likelihood of all of us, including me, getting out of here alive.

"Haa..."

Cheon Areum tilted his head, glancing up at the white moon. He closed his eyes. A murderously thick layer of black energy lapped around the graveyard as if to swallow it whole. At the same time, the underground was also full of his energy. He urged the remaining monsters to come out too. The number had reduced to half. There were still hundreds of them left. Once he was sure all of them were in the graveyard, he opened his eyes.

The violet and white shimmer in Cheon Areum’s eyes had vanished completely—what remained was a darkness deeper than night itself, endless and cold. He lifted his head slowly, his pitch-black gaze locking onto the crowded and cornered monsters with chilling intensity.

A shifting black shadow slithered along the ground like a serpent, weaving between the broken gravestones and the twitching bodies. It carved a path of dread in its wake, moving with purpose—toward the monsters.

Then, it happened.

The undead—hundreds of them, maybe more—began to fall. One by one, without warning, they dropped to their knees with loud, flesh-thudding thumps. The motion was synchronized, as though something unseen had seized their very wills.

Each one knelt the same way Cheon Areum did—forehead lowered, hands slack at their sides, heads bowed in quiet submission.

The air around them darkened. Energy didn’t just radiate from him now—it dominated, demanded, and drowned all resistance. Even the monsters once crowned and untouchable began to shake. For the first time, they looked smaller than prey.

They looked like they understood fear.

"Kill yourselves."

It was a direct and straightforward command but the amount of energy it took for such a command...

At his call, the monsters, without hesitation, without resistance, began to unalive themselves. Some bit into the flesh of their own arms, tearing tendons with sharp teeth. Others lunged at each other, gnashing like rabid beasts. Bones cracked and twisted cruelly as they snapped their own necks, slammed their heads into the ground until skulls split open like fragile shells. One drove its fingers through its own eyes, pulling out parts of his brain. Another tore at its throat until it bled out in choking quietness.

It was a massacre with no enemy. A carnage of obedience.

One by one, they fell.

The undead were now truly dead.

Cheon Areum, the one who remained among their corpses, breathed weakly. His heart, which felt like it would explode with its beats, dropped drastically. He had to force himself to breathe with his mouth now. He couldn’t move at all. Had the others gone to the gate? He didn’t know. He couldn’t even tell if they hadn’t been affected by the output of his energy. His face was too wet—was it all sweat? He wasn’t sure of anything.

"Cheon Areum."

The sharp sound sliced through the silence—too sudden, too close. Cheon Areum’s body reacted before his mind could catch up. His head snapped toward the source, eyes wild and vision blurred. A faint human silhouette stood there, unrecognizable in his haze.

Threat.

His hand shot up, fingers with sharp nails, aiming straight for its neck with one intent—rip it clean off. No questions. No mercy.

But just as he reached it, two cold hands grabbed his burning arm. A chill clashed with the searing heat coursing through him. The grip wasn’t harsh, but unyielding.

Still, he didn’t waver. His instinct screamed louder than any logic. His grip tightened around the unknown throat. Nails dug into the skin.

"Are-um. Areum!"

With a hoarse voice, his name was pronounced. He recognized that voice. He recognized the first time he had referred to him by just—Areum. Good night, Areum. The past voice overlapped with the current one. Cheon Areum’s hazy eyes settled on the face of the person in front of him.

"Yoon Seoyul."

He removed the hand around his neck right away. Cheon Areum’s eyes were wide open. He moved his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Tired?"

Yoon Seoyul asked in a gentle, soothing voice. Cheon Areum didn’t dare to look him straight in the eyes. He spaceily stared at the red handprint on his white skin. Seeing his unresponsiveness, Yoon Seoyul took it as a ’yes’.

"You know Yeongsu can teleport to a marked point, right? He had the gate marked. I took Kim Ryung to the gate, and the others are on their way to the gate too. Can you walk to the gate?"

"Why don’t you listen to me..."

"Areum...."

"Why do you care about my safety so much?! What about your safety! You fucking dumbass! You know-it-all, kind-hearted shit!"

Cheon Areum pounded the ground frustratingly. Yoon Seoyul snatched his hands and held them inside his fists. Cheon Areum didn’t know what kind of expression he had on his face at the moment, but he must’ve looked really pathetic.

"What about Rian? I promised him I’ll keep you safe."

Cheon Areum glanced up, staring into his eyes.

"Rian asked you?"

Yoon Seoyul nodded. He wasn’t lying. Was it last night after he fell asleep? They must’ve talked more with each other, but how did it come to this conclusion?

"You can’t do more than this, can you?"

"..."

"Go and wait at the gate. I’ll take care of the boss."

Just as he finished speaking, the corpses strewn about the graveyard began to move spasmodically, like fishes out of water. One by one, they crawled—no, flung—toward the center of the graveyard. Writhing, twitching, scrambling atop one another, the dead stacked themselves without order or logic. Up, up, up it grew—overtaking the trees, blocking the moon in the sky. Forming a distorted and deformed shape of a big, round, and ugly-looking slump of human bodies. A breathing, slumping abomination born from a thousand corpses.

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