CHAPTER 125: INCIDENT AT THE CLINIC (1)

Madha and Narin arrived at the clinic’s entrance, only to find it completely buried under layers of earth. From within, they could faintly hear Gara’s voice.

A bad feeling instantly settled in Madha’s chest. Meanwhile, Narin grinned wide, convinced that Loka, that simpleton, just needed a little push to act as she planned.

"Madha, I know this is Loka’s earth, he—"

She didn’t finish before Madha’s shoulders hardened like steel, and he slammed his body straight into the packed soil.

"Loka’s earth is too solid, you’ll never—"

Again, Narin’s words cut off as the heavy wall of earth crumbled before them.

"Cough! Ugh—!" Narin flapped her hands frantically to clear the dust cloud, her whole body now covered in grime.

Madha didn’t stop. He pushed his way inside, only to find Gara bound tightly by hardened soil, trapped and unable to move.

Not far from him stood a big tall man, Loka. Anyone could see the lust gleaming in his eyes.

"Bastard!" Madha roared, charging at him. His fist, already transformed into solid iron, drove forward.

Loka’s wall of earth rose up to shield him, but Madha’s strike tore straight through, connecting with his face.

The muscular man, taller and bulkier than Madha, was sent crashing into the clinic’s station desk.

By then, Narin had stumbled inside. Seeing Gara’s condition and the fury burning on Madha’s face, she clicked her tongue.

"Stupid man! Instead of sweet-talking Gara, he actually used his Talent."

She spun on her heel and bolted toward the Liner Camp to fetch Mohan. If this fight dragged on, Madha’s handsome face would end up in ruins. And this was all because of Gara.

After all, Loka was a C-rank Liner, while Madha was only a D-rank. Madha bound to be defeated.

On the floor, Gara finally broke free using his water to soften Loka’s earth. His body smeared with wet, mud-like soil.

He tried to make out the fight between Madha and Loka, but a thick haze of dust obscured everything.

Lifting his hand, water sprinkled from his palm like rain, washing the air clear.

At last, he saw it, Madha hammering Loka with relentless blows. Even though Loka shielded himself with his earth, every strike from Madha landed with brutal force. And Madha didn’t even flinch at Loka’s counterattacks.

Bruises marred Madha’s face, but they were nothing compared to the bloody mess Loka had become.

"Stop, Madha!" Gara shouted.

The words finally broke through. Madha, lost in his frenzy, snapped back to his senses at the sound of Gara’s voice.

In that fraction of hesitation, Loka, with the last of his strength, hurled a cone-shaped mass of earth straight at Madha’s stomach.

Madha raised his arm to block. The impact still sent him flying backward.

"Madha!" Gara rushed to him. A quick glance toward Loka showed the man already unconscious.

"Gara, are you hurt?" Ignoring his own pain, Madha forced himself to stand, checking over Gara’s dirt-streaked body.

Gara shook his head, eyes falling on Madha’s bruised face. His chest tightened. How had things spiraled out of control so fast?

Reaching out, Gara let cool water flow from his palm, wrapping gently around Madha’s wounds.

Normally, he preferred to use herbs. He didn’t want to lean too much on his Talent. After all, he couldn’t be with them forever. It was better to improve his herb medicine.

But now, seeing Madha like this, he couldn’t hold back.

Scratches sealed shut almost instantly, and the swelling of Madha’s bruises began to fade.

Only one mark remained, a bruise along his jaw, nothing too serious anymore.

"I’ll apply herbs later," Gara murmured, his voice steady but soft. "I need to check on Loka, first."

"What actually happened?" Madha caught Gara by the arm, stopping him from getting closer to that bastard.

Gara gently pulled free and began explaining everything—everything except his troublesome Max Charm—while tending to Loka’s face, which was so battered it was hardly recognizable.

Hearing it, Madha snapped and almost delivered another strike. He tried to drag Gara back, "How can he do that to you?! Stop treating this lunatic, Gara!"

Gara only smile faintly and stayed put. He couldn’t tell Madha that his own Talent had played a big role in all of this.

Madha, wary and tense, stood watch. If Loka woke up, he would strike the man again without hesitation.

Thanks to Gara’s water, Loka’s wounds began to close little by little, and some of the swelling faded.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Both Gara and Madha turned sharply toward the voice. Mohan had arrived, with Kian and Narin right behind him.

They walked across the dirt-strewn floor, their eyes widening at the sight of Loka—unconscious, beaten half to death on the ground.

Loka had lost to D-rank and E-rank Liners?

But Mohan immediately realized these weren’t ordinary people. Even if their liner ranks were low, no one truly knew the extent of their power.

"A guard, attacking a liner in the middle of a mission?" Mohan’s voice was edged with steel, his gaze sharp and unforgiving.

Gara instantly understood, Narin had given them a half-truth.

"Loka attacked me first. Madha only stepped in to protect me," Gara said quickly.

"I-I..." Narin stammered, caught under the probing stares of both Mohan and Kian. "I’ll... I’ll check Loka’s wounds."

Mohan turned his eyes back on Madha. "Even so, a guard can’t beat a liner into this state."

What Mohan didn’t realize was that the mess before him was already much less severe than it had been.

"Should I have just let him attack another liner?" Madha shot back, unflinching under the oppressive aura of Mohan, a rank-B liner.

The difference between their ranks was enormous. Higher rank meant far more mission experience, and in a world where raising one’s Talent was nearly impossible, experience was often the only true measure of strength, unless the Talent itself was extraordinary.

Between Madha and Mohan, both had strong Talents, so it would come down to battle experience.

"A guard’s duty is to protect, not to judge," Mohan said coldly.

...