I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 890 - 890 889. A doctor cannot heal himself

Chapter 890: 889. A doctor cannot heal himself. Chapter 890: 889. A doctor cannot heal himself. The explorers from the Academy swiftly rode the insects away, and Hippocrates let out a sigh as he looked toward the city.

The torrential rain showed no signs of pausing, and the pollution in the air grew more severe. On the streets, the residents were all in painful struggle.

Hippocrates bent down, gently placing his hand on the head of one of the people.

Soon, the person fell into a deep sleep, only a slight twitching beneath their closed eyelids, as if in a dream.

All Hippocrates could do was let these people end their lives in the midst of one last beautiful dream.

“Plato seems to have failed, Ares has already left, and Cleopatra is nowhere to be found. Utopia seems to be on the brink of extinction today.”

He murmured to himself.

From his chest, he produced a bottle containing a deep red mist. The mist, which should have been stationary, writhed and churned as if it had a life of its own.

Glass bottles were rare in the Wasteland. Hippocrates unscrewed the cap, and the mist poured out.

The mist spread rapidly, seemingly endless, swirling tumultuously as it expanded in all directions.

Everyone enveloped by the mist gradually ceased their struggle, sinking deeply into sleep, never again to know pain.

The streets fell silent.

It was unknown how many had stopped breathing in their slumber.

As a doctor, Hippocrates couldn’t heal these people at this time, but could only provide them with one final repose, and he was full of lamentation.

After settling the Academy’s affairs, he walked toward the Hall of Philosophers, where Plato resided. Along the way, those in agony succumbed to sleep, while the Gale Wind that heralded the coming of the Torrential Rain picked up things from the streets, whipping up particles of sand and gravel.

Hippocrates saw that the guards of the Hall of Philosophers had already transformed into monster-like beings, the oppressive black clouds only minutes away. A downpour was about to descend upon Utopia.

A monster charged at Hippocrates, but with a mere lift of his hand, the creature was bisected mid-rush. Flesh and bone separated, falling to the ground, Unmoving.

For Hippocrates, who was well-versed in medicine, dissecting a person was extremely simple.

With a certain distance, he could thoroughly dissect any biological form he understood, without the need for any tools—and humans were the most familiar to him.

“Has this place fallen too?”

Hippocrates glanced at those zombie-like figures. Logically, with Plato’s presence and the guards being mostly strong-willed and battle-hardened warriors, they wouldn’t have mutated merely due to the moist wind.

If calamity had struck here, it seemed likely that Plato’s prospects were grim.

Although Hippocrates had known that Plato’s days were numbered, when the moment actually arrived, he felt deeply moved.

As he contemplated, two more monsters approached him.

Hippocrates was prepping to drive away these former comrades and give them their last peace when he saw a figure emerge from the shadows of the Hall of Philosophers.

The movements of the two monsters froze immediately. Then their skin darkened, their veins bulged, and after a phase of intense spasms, they fell down, motionless.

Hippocrates looked toward the figure.

Cleopatra was stepping out with enchanting strides.

Her hair had turned white, and her two eyes emitted a pale blue glow, radiating an intimidating aura.

The Queen of Beauty’s lips still had remnants of white liquid, as if she had just relished a grand feast.

Seeing Cleopatra’s state, Hippocrates frowned slightly.

Clearly, Cleopatra didn’t possess the power to control minds—this was Plato’s authority.

Since she had now seized this authority, it implied Plato had already…

Hippocrates looked deeply at Cleopatra, but ultimately, he did not act.

“Now you are Plato.”

The doctor said.

“Plato cannot leave Utopia, you have made a choice with no future.”

Hearing Hippocrates’ words, Cleopatra showed no change in expression.

“You think there is no hope here anymore, but I do not agree.”

Cleopatra said flippantly.

“Your definition of human is too narrow; clinging to old rules in such a changed world will only lead to extinction.”

“I have seen the civilization from distant worlds; in their realms, humanity takes on forms utterly different from what they are now, we need not be constrained by the past.”

At this, Hippocrates’ gaze flickered.

“Did you expect this rain, too?”

He asked.

“Look, the new era has come.”

Cleopatra pointed behind Hippocrates.

The doctor turned his head, only to see the once quiet streets suddenly bustling with activity, and amidst the rustling sounds, spiders made of flesh crawled out.

Each spider was incredibly twisted as if embodying the deepest malevolence of this world. They pulled up the dead citizens one by one, transforming them into equally grim monsters, and soon, the entire street was filled with such creatures.

“These are Utopia’s new citizens, they will make this city great again.”

Cleopatra stated with a calm tone, yet her eyes betrayed a fanatic gleam.

“You’re insane.”

Hippocrates realized that Cleopatra must have been influenced by some Evil God from another world and been deceived into choosing this path.

Of course, according to Cleopatra’s thinking, these mutated citizens were indeed “saved” by her. For Utopia, this also allowed the city to resist more risks and survive amidst natural disasters, hence, she wasn’t bound by the Rules.

These citizens had already died; resurrecting them as monsters did not count as murder.

Yet, having made such a choice, it was hard to say whether Cleopatra could still be considered human.

“You can never know what our world will face; faced with the onslaught of Pollution from the Foreign Domain, only proactive evolution can ensure survival. As for human form and civilization, those considerations come after survival.”

Cleopatra spoke with a hint of regret.

“What a pity, Hippocrates, I thought you were someone who could understand me.”

A faint glow appeared in her eyes, as she envisioned the ideal world.

However, suddenly Cleopatra noticed a figure approaching from not far behind Hippocrates.

This was not a visitor she had expected, and she was about to take a closer look at the person.

That’s when she saw it—a horrifying, despair-inducing mass of black flesh enter her field of vision.

In an instant, countless nonsensical murmurs rose around Cleopatra’s ears.

Like a heavy hammer hitting her brain, the consciousness of the Queen of Beauty became instantly muddled.

*

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