The man stood up imdiately. He wore a white shirt tucked neatly into grey trousers, secured by a black belt.
His blond hair and blue eyes were striking under the dim light. Looking at Lana, he countered, "Why don’t you introduce yourself first?"
Lana, not wanting to waste ti, introduced herself simply, "I’m Lana."
The man reacted at once, extending his hand. His palm was warm, his grip firm, and the faint sll of cologne clung to his sleeve as he shook her hand.
"Kevin," he replied. "I’m here because of the scuffle that broke out."
His expression darkened as he continued, "A thug showed up and started vandalizing the public temple."
He paused briefly, as if replaying the scene in his mind. "Monk Anaro tried to stop them. Repeatedly. But for so reason, those people completely ignored him."
Kevin’s jaw tightened. "Others stepped in to help, and that’s when everything turned chaotic. A full scuffle broke out. Monk Anaro was... heavily injured."
He exhaled slowly. "The thugs were eventually captured and taken away, but from what I can tell, they’ll likely get away with it."
The mont those words reached her ears, a surge of rage flared inside Lana’s chest, hot and violent. She forced herself to inhale deeply, pressing the emotion down until it settled into sothing cold and sharp.
’So it’s really happening...’
She already had a vague idea of what might be behind this, yet she still clung to the hope that it had nothing to do with her.
Taking another steady breath, she walked toward Monk Anaro.
The old man lay there, unmoving. He used to have long, silky white hair that he would absentmindedly touch while speaking, paired with a smooth, bald crown that gave him a gentle, almost playful appearance. Now, that familiar sight was gone.
Lana’s breath hitched.
Those white strands looked as if they had been roughly chopped off. Dirty footprints marred what remained of his hair.
His robes were torn and soaked in places, and dark, dried blood stained the fabric around his body, silently narrating the brutality he had endured.
The more she looked, the colder her heart beca. Yet she swallowed her anger.
Without another word, Lana raised her hand and began channeling healing light.
A soft glow spilled from her palm, bathing the room in a warm, steady radiance.
The mont the onlookers saw it, admiration flickered openly in their eyes.
To most people, soone wielding healing light was no different from a living miracle, a walking physician. Moreover, the healing light flowing from Lana’s hand was exceptionally stable, powerful, and pure.
Inside, however, Lana’s mind was far from calm.
’This shouldn’t be this bad...’
Earlier, she had assud Monk Anaro’s injuries were superficial. She had believed that once she healed him, he would wake from his coma without issue.
But as seconds turned into minutes, she realized just how grave his condition truly was.
Mr. Crow’s expression turned grim. He knew her healing strength better than anyone.
Under normal circumstances, unless soone was already at death’s door, her healing would restore them within three or four minutes at most.
Of course, this was Mr. Crow’s evaluation, which Lana was becoming suspicious of.
But now...
This was unmistakably a life-and-death situation.
Lana poured more healing light into him, her forehead damp with sweat, her focus unwavering.
Slowly, painfully slowly, the wounds on Monk Anaro’s body began to fade. Torn flesh knit together. Bruises lightened, then vanished.
A ripple of awe passed through the room.
Those with knowledge exchanged looks, realizing that Lana’s healing ability was already bordering on top-tier.
So even felt the urge to approach her, to introduce themselves, to build a connection. Yet none dared to move.
They all sensed it. Interrupting her now would invite her wrath. So they waited.
Finally, Lana lowered her hand when she saw Monk Anaro’s eyelids tremble open.
His gaze focused briefly on her before darting around the room, panic flashing through his eyes as if he were instinctively searching for danger.
Lana understood imdiately.
Her eyes snapped toward the man standing nearby.
Weariness crept into her expression, mingled with sothing far colder. Without hesitation, she lifted her hand again. A thin layer of mystic energy surged forward and entered the man’s body.
It was instinctive.
Even Lana herself did not fully understand why she had acted. After all, her mystic energy was not supposed to harm humans.
The next mont, the man’s knees buckled. His face twisted in pain as he staggered backward, unable to stand, a low groan tearing from his throat.
Lana’s pupils contracted.
’So it can hurt...’
Mr. Crow imdiately spoke in her mind, "You’ve reached the yellow rank."
His tone was serious. "It’s not sothing a normal mystic energy can do this. It’s your yellow-rank mystic energy."
He continued, "Yellow mystic energy is different. It’s linked directly to the cultivator’s mind. As long as you intend it, it can harm humans, ghosts, even beasts."
A pause followed before he added, "That’s why everyone reveres yellow mystic energy so much. Blue mystic energy can only harm ghosts, but yellow..."
Even though Mr. Crow didn’t finish his words, Lana understood and felt a surge of adrenaline.
"Ahhh! What... what are you doing... I am a... a normal citizen! I am... innocent!" Kevin shouted and scread, hoping Lana would stop.
anwhile, Lana didn’t. This Kevin was too suspicious.
He could have brought Monk Anaro to be treated, but he decided not to leave the temple.
Before entering, Lana noticed that there was no danger, so the explanation that he might have done it to protect Monk Anaro was too weak.
What confird her suspicion was Monk Anaro’s reaction.
He didn’t look like soone who was in a coma, but rather a person who was awake all along and was forced to remain unconscious.
Even now, he didn’t stop her. What does it an? That she was right in her assumption.
However, the next second, the man shouted in Monk Anaro’s direction,
"Dad! What are you doing! Stop this crazy person!"
Lana: (o_0?)
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