Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 322

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 322
Observing the battlefield, I employed both my Dual Thought Technique and the Hyeonwon Jeondan Singeong.
And Oseng, who had reached the Hwagyeong realm, observed himself alongside me.
The self-diagnosis I reached was this:
‘Ah, it’s because there are no civilians. And because there are no children.’
Whether or not there were sword masters who had reached Hwagyeong, or how many elite masters clashed—none of that truly mattered.
Even in a place where only warriors with inner energy the size of a bean existed in their dantian, the moment those beings began slaughtering civilians, my chest would begin to churn.
And if I witnessed the corpse of a young child among them, a suffocating sensation would overwhelm me, leaving me helpless.
Conversely, amid the battles of the ten greatest masters under heaven and the tempests of overwhelming force, even as weapons clashed countless times and people fell.
Uncomfortable emotions naturally arose, and it was certainly difficult, but…
I never completely lost myself.
‘The presence or absence of civilians—that’s what truly matters to me. Now that I think about it, even when the young martial artists ran rampant during the Yongbong Conference, my mind wasn’t strained to this degree.’
To me, this was not ‘war.’
Of course, I cannot speak for how others might name it. War between martial artists is certainly war in its own right.
But this place is not a civilian settlement, and innocent commoners haven’t fallen to blind blades.
‘Breathing feels so much easier.’
I had discovered one definition of ‘war’ for myself.
And I was somewhat astonished that I could observe and analyze this so clearly.
‘Ah… my mental capacity has expanded. Upon entering the Hwagyeong realm, obtaining Eungryong’s precious jewel, and acquiring various divine techniques—my mental vessel itself has become vastly broader and more resilient.’
Of course, it remained impossible to cure the mental afflictions I already possessed.
This differed from the human body.
These were the path I had walked, my memories, my wounds.
But. Observation and analysis were now possible.
Before my spirit entered the Hwagyeong realm, it was perhaps the size of a single cup; now it had become something like a four-person bathtub.
‘Such dramatic transformation from a single realm advancement… Perhaps that’s why reaching Hwagyeong was so difficult for everyone. Such a drastic change… Then, surely those at Hyeongyeong are no longer human.’
If my current self was a four-person bathtub, what manner of beings were the Three Elites who had reached Hyeongyeong?
Would their minds be the size of lakes?
What could one accomplish with a mind the size of a lake?
‘Still… compared to ‘that existence’ I encountered then, it would be nothing.’
Eungryong.
If Hyeongyeong was a lake, then Eungryong would be the ocean.
I had an intuition that this was surely the case.
‘Sigh… It was only recently that I was pleased to have written my thesis quickly and gained this miraculous recovery ability. As the saying goes, the more you know, the more you see—the path ahead is long.’
With one corner of my mind, I diagnosed myself; with another, I observed the battlefield. And with yet another, I recalled my guide to reaching this point.
The novel, Jicheon Cheonma.
Certainly, in Jicheon Cheonma, Yeo Ha-ryun the Cheonma, having reached Hyeongyeong, defeats the final boss and the novel concludes.
That is one story. Just as there is a beginning, so too is there an end.
One novel simply reached its conclusion.
But here is reality, and this is a world.
What happens after that? What time does Eungryong speak of?
‘The Final Boss crumbled before Yeo Ha-ryun, spouting the most clichéd dialogue imaginable.’
-Kekeke, so this is how it ends. But no matter. As long as desire dwells in the hearts of men, I shall inevitably return.
A cliché among clichés.
A line so overused that even its hollow ring has worn thin.
But what if it were true…?
What if that creature truly did return…?
What preparations and countermeasures should I, Jin Cheon-hee, make?
With a mind grown broader and more formidable, I began to contemplate thoughts that ordinary people could never fathom.
As a result, the flow of qi around my body grew increasingly strange and wondrous.
It burned hot, then grew cold once more.
The Medical Assistants did not approach me, careful not to disturb my concentration.
And as time flowed onward.
A third faction entered the fray.
The Ilwol Singyeo—those whom the world called the Demonic Sect—threw themselves into the battlefield.
Now it had become a three-way melee with no clear alliances.
‘I shall watch. I want to see what martial arts you have chosen… I will continue to observe.’
I kept my gaze fixed upon the battle without turning away.
* * *
While Baek Rin’s Medical Guild withdrew to establish a formation in preparation for any unexpected attacks, simultaneously readying themselves to receive patients.
There were two other groups acting in similar fashion.
The Black Transmission Medical Guild that appeared with the Sadoryeon, and the Hwaju Medical Institute that came with the Murim Alliance.
Of course, unlike Baek Rin’s Medical Guild, they had not brought powerful military forces, so the treatment center established by the Hwaju Medical Institute consisted of roughly two hundred people.
The Black Transmission Medical Guild had somewhat more martial artists, numbering around four hundred.
‘The greatest problem is that I cannot determine whether Hyeolsaeng Nogoe is present.’
Hwaju Yakson had definitely not come.
From the start, Yakson lacked the audacity to appear directly in such a blood calamity.
Moreover, trauma treatment was not his primary field of expertise, so he rarely involved himself directly in such matters.
But Hyeolsaeng Nogoe was different.
She might come, or she might not.
And there was no way to know.
The variant of the Chuggeun Technique she had once displayed before me was a wondrous art so mysterious that even formidable masters of the martial world could be deceived by it.
Gender, age, distinguishing features, voice—she could conceal all of these.
Even Sama Hyeon’s sword transformation, which had not yet transcended the Hwagyeong realm, was uncanny; recognizing Hyeolsaeng Nogoe, who had lived through eons, was nearly impossible.
Because of this.
Here and now. In this place.
The doctors of the Black Transmission Medical Guild simply performed their duties.
Thus the three Medical Guilds established themselves on the periphery of the blood calamity and maintained their treatment centers.
Yet the battle continued to intensify without pause, leaving no opportunity for patients to reach those treatment centers.
‘Strategy and tactics—perhaps only medical examination qualifies. Yet this too is a battle of the martial world.’
Of course, it was not as though the commanders of the Murim Alliance and the Sadoryeon had entirely abandoned tactical considerations.
However, they were not direct military forces under Yeo Ha-ryun and the Demonic Sect—merely those who had traveled alongside them.
The real problem lay with the martial artists from each faction.
“혈련문의 두강자다! 애송이들 전부 덤벼라—!”
That warrior, roaring with a lion’s cry and wildly swinging his fists.
Naturally, there was no reason for him to obey the commands of the Demonic Sect Alliance.
The demonic path was a place where strength equaled justice.
Unless the Sect Master of the Blood Lotus Sect had directly ordered them to follow the Demonic Sect Alliance, and even then—if a warrior judged his own martial prowess to be exceptional enough to fight alone, that was what he would do.
The unwavering sense of self, forged through countless thousands upon tens of thousands of times punching walls until they bled, healing, and punching again, whispered to him to act as he saw fit.
“I am Changjin of the Ilchang Sect, affiliated with the Martial Alliance! Two powerhouses from the Blood Lotus Sect! Come and fight!”
“Kuhahahaha! Hypocrites of the righteous path! Good! Let’s fight!”
That was right.
That unwavering sense of self was no different from the Martial Alliance itself.
Though Changwang threw himself into the breach, an alliance without binding force was nothing more than a sandcastle.
The warrior from the Ilchang Sect did not properly follow the Martial Alliance’s commands and instead drew his blade to kill the Demonic Sect Alliance warrior before his eyes.
There were no communication devices.
The location was Hangsan, a region of mountains and forests.
Grasping the overall situation of the battle here was impossibly difficult.
There was only ally or enemy.
Even if one wished to devise tactics, since the warriors did not move to the sound of drums like a military formation, scattered, chaotic battles continued to erupt in all directions.
Of course, both the military forces of the Demonic Sect Alliance and the Martial Alliance
both sides had known this would happen, so they had managed to devise minimal stratagems, but even those had been scattered to the winds by the actions of the spy, Bangseon Danzu.
Watching this unfold, I muttered to myself.
“The Demonic Sect will strike now.”
The young man with azure eyes, observing all of this, possessed an elegance like a work of art, yet somehow also carried a pallor that seemed as though it might vanish at any moment.
“Precise.”
My Master remained at my side.
The moment my words ended, the Ilwol Singyeo appeared.
Two Soegoojus emerged.
“The robes of the Six Houses of the Demonic Sect are surprisingly easy to recognize.”
“Remember that.”
It was an immense distance from the treatment center.
Yet my disciple was watching it.
One might even wonder if he was simply staring blankly into empty space.
Patter—
A single raindrop brushed across my face and passed. Then again.
Patter-patter—
Was it raining?
Even as the cold rain soaked me, my posture never wavered.
Drenched in the chill rain, the young man gazed toward the distant horizon without faltering.
The young man, as though he might vanish at any moment, stood only in ever greater pallor and silence.
My master stands by my side.
“These must be the elite forces sent by three of the Demon Sect’s great families working in concert.”
“Tell me what you’ve discerned so far.”
The strategist’s training. One of the most fundamental and practical disciplines within the Jegallga.
The Hyeonwon Jeondan Singeong fills my mind to its peak.
“The chain of command flows through two Soegooju. Receiving orders from these two grants them overwhelming unity compared to the Murim Alliance or the Sadoryeon, and through this unity, formidable collective combat strength. They slaughter both the Sadoryeon and the Murim Alliance with equal efficiency.”
My voice was clear, yet devoid of emotion.
The voice of a strategist.
“Good. How is your breathing?”
I answered my master’s question calmly.
“…Still manageable for now.”
“I see.”
Jegalling sometimes wondered if the young man before him was not made of bone and flesh, but rather of crystallized eyes.
Always present in winter, yet vanishing without trace when summer arrives.
The youth possessed an enigmatic bearing of peculiar grace, and he was accustomed to dissolving himself within it.
“Speak of what else you observe. Then analyze it piece by piece. Only when you can perceive both the living and the dead, all of them, will you truly be reborn as a strategist of the Jegallga.”
“Did you undergo this process alongside Father, Master?”
“….”
Jegalling did not answer.
His eyelashes lowered like feathers as he replied thus.
“There is no need for anyone to observe this cultivation. Watching the living and the dead is sufficient alone.”
Jegalling suddenly recalled himself during the Blood Wheel Massacre.
Soon after, he smiled faintly.
“Of course… it is also a fine thing to cultivate while admiring the blood wind one has created.”
For a moment, I sensed an unfamiliar madness emanating from my master, but I turned my gaze away.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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