Chapter 115: Treatment

The Old Physician, clutching a steel needle, approached Lu Zhe. Lu Zhe glared at him, letting out a series of roars as if to intimidate his captor. He struggled violently, limbs thrashing in an attempt to break free from the four steel needles pinning him down, but no matter how hard he fought, the needles remained immovable. Forced to yield, he could only continue to howl at the old man, who merely met his fury with a faint, dismissive smile.

Looking down at Lu Zhe with an amused expression, the Old Physician teased, "Keep screaming, go on. Let’s see you break free from these needles."

Lu Zhe’s eyes burned with rage as he locked his gaze onto the physician, though he finally ceased his howling.

Seeing that the creature had fallen silent, the Old Physician nodded. With lightning speed, he reached out and pinned Lu Zhe’s head firmly with his right hand, while his left hand drove the needle toward the center of Lu Zhe’s brow.

*Cling.*

A crisp sound rang out. The needle, despite its sharp point, was blocked by the mask Lu Zhe wore. The steel needle rebounded, and the Old Physician paused, visibly surprised. He pulled the needle before his eyes to examine it, only to find the tip slightly bent—a testament to the incredible resilience of the mask.

"What a hard mask," he muttered to himself, beginning to re-evaluate the strange object.

Releasing Lu Zhe’s head, the Old Physician frowned, rubbing his chin in deep thought as he studied the mask. Suddenly, as if having made a decision, he stepped forward and gripped Lu Zhe’s head again. With a flick of his left hand, another gleaming steel needle appeared. This time, however, he did not aim for the brow; he drove the needle directly into Lu Zhe’s abdomen, toward his core of spiritual energy.

*Squelch.*

Lu Zhe’s crimson skin was not as impervious as his mask. With a slight push, the needle sank into his flesh.

"Roar!"

The sensation of the needle piercing his body elicited another massive roar, though this one was laced with a palpable hint of agony.

"Bear with it," the Old Physician encouraged, recognizing the pain in the cry.

As the needle settled into his abdomen, the blood-red hue of Lu Zhe’s skin began to fade. It dimmed, then dimmed again, repeating the process until, after a short while, his skin returned to its natural, pale yellowish tone. As the color receded, his stature gradually shrank back to its normal height. His limbs retracted, his razor-sharp claws withdrew, and his elongated hair shortened. Within moments, Lu Zhe had returned to his ordinary state.

Watching Lu Zhe return to normal, the Old Physician nodded, then turned his gaze toward the mask with a perplexed frown. While the rest of Lu Zhe’s body had reverted, the mask remained firmly in place, showing no sign of vanishing.

The Old Physician leaned in, observing Lu Zhe closely. His blood-red eyes had returned to their normal white sclera and black irises, yet the mask clung stubbornly to his face.

"How can this be?" the old man wondered aloud. He reached out and tapped the mask with his finger, producing a hollow, clinking sound.

Straightening his back, the Old Physician crossed his arms, baffled. After a moment of deliberation, he delivered a heavy punch directly to the mask.

*Thud.*

A dull impact echoed, but the mask remained unscathed. Aside from the muffled sound of the blow, there was no reaction.

*Crack, crack, crack.*

Just as the Old Physician was growing frustrated, a series of sharp snapping sounds emanated from the mask. A spiderweb of fissures began to spread rapidly across its surface.

*Clatter.*

Piece by piece, the fragments of the mask fell away until it had completely shattered, finally revealing Lu Zhe’s true face. He was, at last, fully himself.

Satisfied, the Old Physician smiled. He touched the storage ring on the pinky finger of his left hand, and with a flash of light, a small, circular altar appeared beside him. The altar was about half a person’s height and five feet wide, inscribed with mysterious, unknown patterns. Around its perimeter stood several square pedestals holding candles, all of which were currently unlit.

Extracting the needles from Lu Zhe’s body, the Old Physician lifted him and placed him in the center of the altar. With a sharp flick of his sleeve, the candles ignited simultaneously, and the mysterious patterns on the dais began to glow in unison.

The Old Physician moved back, stopping about a yard away. He looked at Lu Zhe and sighed softly. "Your strength is insufficient to suppress this monster, so I must use a sealing technique for now. When you grow stronger, you can find a way to finish it once and for all."

He flicked his sleeve again, forming his hands into sword-fingers, and began to weave them through the air. He bit his left index finger, then traced a complex, glowing red pattern in the void with his right hand. As his hands moved in alternating rhythms, a mysterious and ominous red sigil manifested two feet before him, rotating slowly in the air.

The sigil was circular, filled with cryptic symbols—neither runes nor script—that were impossible to decipher. It pulsed with a faint, ominous crimson light.

Taking a deep breath, the Old Physician pushed the floating sigil toward Lu Zhe. It shot forward like a falling star, striking Lu Zhe in the abdomen. It flickered against his skin several times before vanishing into his body.

*Puff.*

As the pattern disappeared, Lu Zhe coughed up a spray of crimson blood that misted into the air, and he slumped to the left.

The Old Physician stepped forward, steadied Lu Zhe, and placed his hand on the boy’s head, pouring a steady stream of spiritual energy into his body.

"Cough, cough..."

After a few moments, Lu Zhe coughed again and slowly opened his eyes.

"Master," Lu Zhe whispered weakly, looking up at the familiar figure standing before him.