Chapter 491: Mehen
The tree they rested under was dead. Its green bark was blackened and split, its roots twisting through the cracked earth like skeletal fingers. The battle through the rural forest and fields had been relentless—hours upon hours of blood, sweat, and endless slaughter. The corpses of monsters lay behind them in piles, their flesh already decaying, sinking back into the diseased land that had birthed them.
Dasha leaned against the tree, his arms and legs crossed, his wounds closing with eerie precision. Internal Healing. His body was already regenerating, the Qi pathways within him restoring torn muscle, knitting bone, sealing ruptured flesh. He felt the energy flow through him, warm and cold, yin and yang.
Sun-young, however, was not so fortunate.
She sat opposite him, her Templar armor battered, torn in places where monster claws had cut through. A deep gash ran across her left thigh, the exposed skin marred with bruises. She was breathing steadily, her expression impassive, but even Dasha could tell she was pushing past pain.
He reached into his sleeve, retrieving a small vial filled with translucent blue liquid. A high-grade healing potion. Without a word, he tossed it to her.
Sun-young barely glanced at it. She caught it and she hurled it back at him. Dasha caught it.
"I don’t need it."
’No, it’s not that you don’t need it, you simply can’t take it. Anti-magic corruption.’
For all her power, there was a price.
Sun-young’s War Class—the Anti-Magic Swordsman—was a force that defied logic. It erased enchantments, devoured spells, nullified sorcery in its entirety. It made her a nightmare against anybody with mana or Qi. Even Dasha himself.
But it also meant that magic could not aid her.