All Chapters of Ancient Medical Rising System: Rise Of The Forsaken Doctor: Chapter 161
- Chapter 170
207 chapters
Chapter 157. The Viral Blades
The mountain wind tore at Rick’s robes as he ascended the jagged path toward the fortress. The sky was bruised with clouds, the kind that threatened both rain and shadow. Smoke and a faint green mist curled from the fortress’s battlements, rising like fingers to claw at the sky. He smelled it before he saw it, the acrid tang of Viral Qi, a living poison that licked the air, hungry and corrosive.Behind him, Luna’s cocoon throbbed faintly, its internal glow dimmed, but alive. Rick’s fingers brushed the edge of the silk-like shell. He had carried her through forests, deserts, and burning towns, yet never had the weight of responsibility felt heavier. Each step toward the fortress echoed like a drumbeat in his skull, a pulse of inevitability. The System whispered in the edges of his consciousness, calm and alert:[User approaching Viral Blade stronghold. Pathways hazardous. Estimated contamination risk: 87%]Rick did not answer. The System had been warning him for hours. Warnings wer
Chapter 158. The General’s Mercy
The wind shrieked through the shattered walls of the fortress, carrying with it the stench of disease and charred metal. Rick pressed forward, boots slipping on fragments of stone slick with viral residue. The Viral Qi Blades littered the ground, some still humming faintly with corrupted energy. Smoke and spores hung in the air like gray fog, crawling into every crevice, invading lungs. He carried Luna’s cocoon in front of him, cocooning her fragile form with layers of purifying Qi, shielding her from both the toxins and the wailing storm that surrounded them.Ahead, the fortress heart pulsed with a sickly green glow. The viral core, a roiling sphere of sentient infection, throbbed as if alive. Soldiers lay scattered, twitching even after death, their blood already mutating into new viral filaments. Rick’s pulse synced with the fortress’s rhythm, the System’s alert flashing repeatedly:[Viral Contamination Risk: 98%][User Vitality: Optimal – Intervention Required]He took a slow
Chapter 159. The Root Of Rot
The mountain air was thin, bitter with frost, but beneath the peaks, the ground gave way to unnatural warmth. Rick moved with careful precision, his boots silent on the cracked stone of the cavern entrance. The Syndicate had hidden their final node deep, far from prying eyes, beneath layers of granite, ice, and old superstitions. But he had learned the language of corruption, he could smell it, hear it in the vibrations of the earth.The opening yawned before him, a metallic maw carved into the rock, veins of copper and iron coiling like tendons over the jagged stone. Faint pulses of light seeped from within, illuminating the frost in the mountain air with sickly orange. Rick stepped inside, adjusting the hood of his cloak over Luna’s cocoon, the soft hum of her suspended Qi resonating faintly against his own.The interior of the cathedral was vast, cathedral-shaped, yet nothing ecclesiastical remained. The walls breathed faintly, expanding and contracting like lungs. Pipes, tub
Chapter 160. The Ashes of Mercy
The cathedral groaned beneath its own corruption. Metal ribs twisted like spines, and walls of fused bone pulsated faintly, as if breathing in tandem with the stolen souls that lingered within. Rick stepped forward cautiously, his boots scraping across the slick, blackened floor. Luna’s cocoon hovered before him, faintly glowing, a fragile heartbeat in the cavern of decay. The acrid air burned his lungs, thick with the scent of rust, rot, and Qi-tainted smoke.He advanced slowly, eyes scanning the cathedral’s altar: vats of preserved humans lined the walls, each suspended in an unnatural glow. Some were clones of those long gone, others failed experiments, the Syndicate’s discarded playthings. Rick’s fingers itched with the pull of his Qi, the familiar resonance humming through his veins. Every soul here carried the weight of abuse, their suffering folded into the building itself. A system alert cut through the heavy silence:[Identity Conflict: Multiple Genetic Signatures Detect
Chapter 161. The Village of Silence
Rick stepped down from the ridge into the valley, his boots crunching against loose stones dampened by the green-tinged mist. The fog clung to him, cold and viscous, carrying the faint, sour scent of decay. Even from a distance, the village looked wrong. Huts leaned as if they had been frozen mid-collapse.Smoke rose in wisps from chimneys, but the smell of fire was absent, no wood burned. No wind stirred the tendrils of mist that hovered low over the earth.He held Luna’s cocoon tighter, her faint glow dim against the overwhelming green haze. His pulse thrummed in rhythm with the still air, each step carrying the weight of the unknown. Villagers stood along the paths, unmoving, yet upright. Some clutched tools in stiff fingers. Others leaned against walls or trees as though frozen mid-task. Their eyes were open, empty, unfocused, staring through the world, not at it.Rick crouched behind a collapsed wall and scanned. “System, identify.”[Pathogen: Unknown. Classification: Pre-Heav
Chapter 162. The Breathless Disease
The green mist clung to the mountains like a living thing, curling through the crumbling streets of the valley. Rick moved slowly, his boots pressing into the damp soil, leaving shallow prints that disappeared almost immediately beneath the mist. The villagers stood along the roads, motionless, their faces pale, lips parted as if drawing air that no longer filled their lungs. Their eyes opened, but they saw nothing. Their chests rose and fell in a shallow rhythm, barely enough to count as life.Rick inhaled deliberately, drawing the cool, bitter-sweet scent of damp earth and decaying foliage into his lungs. Every inhale felt heavier than the last. His hands, wrapped around the Suture Blade at his hip, twitched subtly with Qi resonance. He closed his eyes, letting his pulse slow, lowering it to a crawl. Each heartbeat became a note in a strange, unbroken rhythm. He counted them silently, feeling the familiar hum of the System deep within.[Pathogen Detected: Unknown. Historical da
Chapter 163. The Spirit of the Plague
The valley lay silent under the pale morning haze. Mist curled around the abandoned houses, greenish tendrils that seemed almost alive, moving with the faint pulse of something unseen. Rick’s boots crunched over stone and frost, each step measured, deliberate. He carried Luna’s cocoon in his arms, the faint glow of her Qi casting wavering shadows on the ruined walls.The villagers were everywhere and nowhere. They stood motionless along the streets, their postures upright but rigid, skin waxy, eyes glassy. A child leaned against a crumbling fence, head tilted, unblinking. A woman knelt over a garden that hadn’t been tended in decades. The air smelled of damp earth and faint decay.Rick knelt beside the child. He placed a single hand on the girl’s shoulder, letting Qi flow through him, testing for life. The pulse was there, weak, erratic, slowed, but it was there.“The calm extends life,” Rick whispered, more to himself than anyone. His voice carried, soft and low, and for a moment the
Chapter 164. The Thousand Memories
The first villager moved. Rick saw it from the corner of his eye. A woman stood near the dry well at the center of the valley. Her body had not fallen like the others. Her feet were planted in the dirt. Her arms hung at her sides. Her eyes were open but unfocused, filmed with dull green mist. When she moved, it was not a step. It was a shift, like a statue settling.The mist thickened. Rick stopped walking. The mountain valley was silent. No birds. No insects. No wind. The green fog hung low, heavy enough to taste. It clung to stone walls, roofs, and skin. Every villager stood upright where they had been caught. A man with a basket frozen mid-lift. A child leaning against a post. An old woman kneeling beside a fire pit that had long gone cold.Rick adjusted the straps on his back. Luna’s cocoon rested there, wrapped in layered cloth and talismans. The surface pulsed once. Soft. Slow.The woman near the well turned her head. Her mouth opened. Sound came out, but it was not breath.T
Chapter 165. The Ghost Doctor’s Ritual
The first blossom appeared where a body should have fallen. Rick stood in the center of the silent village, boots half-buried in pale ash and damp soil. The green mist still hung low, drifting between frozen villagers who stood upright with open eyes. None of them breathed. None of them blinked. Their shadows did not move with the moon.Rick set Luna’s cocoon down beside the old shrine tree. The shell pulsed once, slow and faint, like a heart testing if it still remembered how.He rolled his shoulders, then loosened the straps of his coat. His hands moved with care, checking needles, crystal threads, bone scalpels. Each tool clicked into place with a dry sound. No wind. No birds. Only the soft hum of the plague, a sound like many whispers speaking at once.A villager stood one step away from him. An old man. Mouth open. Eyes clouded white.Rick raised two fingers and touched the man’s throat. The skin was cold but not stiff.Rick pressed. A ripple moved under the skin. Not muscle.
Chapter 166. Resurrection in the Mist
The mist did not lift with the sun. It clung to the valley like a second skin, green and thin, drifting between houses and trees. It moved in slow waves, as if breathing. Rick stood at the center of the village with Luna’s cocoon strapped to his back. His boots were wet. His fingers smelled of ash and blood.A bell rang once. It came from the east end of the village. The sound was weak. It scraped through the fog and died.Rick turned. A man stood in the road. The man’s clothes hung loose. His skin was pale, almost gray. His eyes were open, but the whites shone faintly, like fog caught in glass. He took one step forward. His foot did not make a sound on the stone. Rick raised his hand. “Don’t move,” Rick said.The man stopped. He tilted his head, as if listening to a voice far away. “I can hear you,” the man said. His lips moved a moment before the sound came. “But it is slow.”Behind him, another figure appeared. Then another. A woman stepped out of a doorway. A child followed her