Villain Ch 1604. He Who Heals with One Hand and Stabs with The Other
The central plaza of Ront City pulsed with life.
Players gathered in thick crowds, their armor still dented and scorched, some bandaged, others laughing like they hadn't just been annihilated thirty minutes ago by the single most terrifying boss in the game.
The scent of roasted meats and mana ale filled the air, the street vendors returning fast now that the chaos was over. Guild flags fluttered in the wind—Ironclad, Celestial Vanguard, Order of Valiance, and a dozen more lesser banners waving with half-pride, half-exhaustion.
But right in the heart of it all sat Father^Alex.
Cross-legged on the edge of the fountain, his staff across his lap, robe still rumpled, hair an absolute mess, and face—bright red.
Because everyone was still surrounding him.
