Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 247- Helping a Heroine fight a Monster

Chapter 247: Chapter 247- Helping a Heroine fight a Monster

He was already above the clouds.

The estate was gone below him, the mountain ranges spreading in every direction as he climbed through the upper air, robe moving with the wind at this altitude, hands clasped behind his back in the specific way that cultivators who had nothing to prove carried themselves when they moved through the sky.

No spiritual energy signature.

The thin protective layer had gone up the moment he cleared the estate perimeter — a membrane of demonic qi drawn tightly around him, so refined it didn’t disturb the ambient spiritual energy of the environment, the cultivator equivalent of holding your breath in a quiet room.

To anyone below, he was simply not there.

The earthquake’s direction had been easy to locate — the seismic echo still moving through the mountain ranges like a conversation between stones, deep and continuing, and he followed it south and slightly east, dropping altitude as the specific mountain came into range.

He heard her before he saw her.

"’—YOU BASTARD HEAVENLY DEMON—’"

A fist hit a boulder the size of a small house.

The boulder did not argue — it fractured lengthwise, the crack running through it like a decision, and the top third calved off and fell with the grinding authority of something that had been one piece for several centuries and had just been persuaded otherwise.

Dust rose.

He dropped lower.

Found a current that let him sit at roughly two hundred meters above the mountain slope without needing to circulate anything to maintain the height, and looked down.

She was standing at the base of what had been a rock face.

Was now a debris field.

The specific woman he’d filed under ’Lin Feng’s people’ — the giantess tribe lineage visible in everything about her body, the height first, then the breadth of shoulder, the physical density that the tribe carried as a baseline rather than a cultivated achievement — and she was hitting the rubble with her bare fists in the specific way that people hit things when the thing they actually want to hit is not currently present.

"’—If not for you,’" she was saying, between hits, to the rubble or to the air or to him specifically if she’d known he was there, "’—if not for you this whole—’"

CRACK.

Another stone split.

He watched her knuckles.

The blood at them — not from the stone, the stone was losing this argument, but from the sheer repetition of it, the specific split-skin quality of fists that had been hitting geology for long enough that the skin had filed a formal objection in the form of bleeding.

Her voice had tears in it.

Not the crying of a woman who had surrendered to the feeling — the specific crying of a woman who was furious with herself for crying and was channeling the crying directly into the hitting, trying to spend it on the rock before it became something she had to acknowledge.

He recognized that.

He’d seen it in others.

He had also, in a previous Chapter of himself, been the reason for it in others, and that symmetry was not lost on him — he simply found it mildly entertaining rather than troubling, which was perhaps the defining characteristic of what he was.

"’—Oh my,’" he said, quiet, to himself, to the sky, to no one in particular.

He tilted his head.

She was stronger than the last time he’d seen her.

Foundation Establishment — though something about the reading was irregular, a shimmer in the spiritual energy around her that didn’t quite resolve cleanly, like a signal with interference, the specific flickering quality of a cultivation base that hadn’t fully settled, that was arguing with itself between two levels the way a tide argues with a shore.

He filed that.

Then he looked at the forest below and to the east.

It was hiding.

Not well — or rather, well by the standards of anything that wasn’t a Nascent Soul cultivator running both refined qi and demonic energy with a system capable of reading the specific signature of suppressed demonic presence through two hundred meters of dense forest cover.

But badly by his.

He descended.

The forest received him silently — his arrival produced no branch movement, no disturbed bird, no crack of a twig underfoot because his feet chose specifically where they landed and landed with the specific lightness of someone who had spent enough years doing this that the ground was a formality rather than a constraint.

He found it behind a cluster of ancient pines.

The boar.

It was substantial even in its natural state — the size of a large cart horse, bristled black and grey, tusks curved and worn with age, the specific deep chest of something that had been eating well and moving through forest for a long time.

It had wedged itself into a hollow between two root systems.

Trembling.

The entire mass of it — hundreds of pounds of old, dense, dangerous animal — trembling the way small animals tremble when something larger is nearby, the body’s honest admission of hierarchy.

It could smell him.

Could feel him in the way that old forest things feel what walks through their territory, some pressure in the air that wasn’t qi and wasn’t spirit and wasn’t anything with a name in cultivator terminology, just the specific unnameable sense that something was here that had not agreed to be bound by the rules that applied to everything else.

He looked at it.

At the deep-set red eyes. At the tusks. At the trembling.

He brought his hands from behind his back — one hand, specifically, extending forward, palm slightly upward, the casual gesture of someone offering something to a street vendor.

"’—let’s use you for a bit,’" he said.

The boar did not appreciate this phrasing.

He opened the system interface without looking at it — the specific practiced quality of someone navigating a menu they had used enough times that the visual wasn’t necessary.

’[DEMONIC ENERGY APPLICATION — TARGET: EXTERNAL]’

’[Mode: Stimulation/Amplification. Duration: User-defined. Warning: Irreversible morphological change at sustained application. Recommend brief application for controlled results.]’

’[Confirm?]’

Confirmed.

The demonic energy left him like a breath — not visible, not loud, just present in the air between his palm and the boar, and the boar felt it arrive before it knew what it was and by the time it knew what it was, it was already too late to be what it had been.

The change was not gentle.

The boar’s skin split at the shoulders first — not blood, just the specific elastic limit of hide reaching the end of what it could contain as the muscle and bone beneath expanded past the architecture that had housed them, the body rewriting itself from inside out with the demonic energy as the instruction.

It screamed.

Not a pig sound.

The sound that came out of what had been the boar was the sound of something discovering it had a throat capable of a different register — low, resonant, the specific vibration of a monster-class presence announcing itself to the surrounding forest, every bird in a two-kilometer radius lifting from its branch simultaneously.

The trees moved.

Not wind — shockwave.

The thing that stood where the boar had been standing was twenty-five tons at the conservative estimate, easily thirty at the generous one, and it was still growing, the demonic energy still cycling through it, the body still finding edges to exceed.

Red eyes.

Not the dull red of an old boar’s eyes — the specific, light-gathering crimson of something that had been remade by demonic cultivation, pupils dilated to near-full-black in the center, the gaze of something that no longer recognized the distinction between threat and prey and everything else.

Saliva from the tusks — thick, viscous, the specific quality of a body that had been fundamentally altered at the chemical level, running from the elongated jaw in slow heavy strings.

He put his hands back behind his back.

Tilted his head.

"’—what a masterpiece,’" he said.

The monster looked at him.

Decided he was food.

Lunged.

Thirty tons of newly made horror hurtling through the pine forest toward the specific spot he was standing in, the trees in its path not obstacles but inconveniences, snapping at the waterline as the mass moved through them.

He raised one hand.

A single gesture.

The kind of gesture you make when you want someone to pass you something from across the table.

The telekinesis hit the monster mid-lunge with the force of someone who had been using this same energy for things that were not fucking women, and this was the first time this session it had been applied to its actual rated capacity, and the rated capacity of a Nascent Soul cultivator’s telekinesis against a thirty-ton demonic boar was, as it turned out, a significant overmatch.

The monster stopped.

Not gradually.

Instantly — suspended in mid-air at the height of its lunge, thirty tons of it hanging two meters off the forest floor with its legs still running the motion of the charge, still processing the instruction to lunge, while the rest of it was simply not going anywhere.

He looked up at it.

At the red eyes.

At the saliva still running from the open jaw above him.

He looked back toward the mountain slope where Lin Yuxi was still hitting rocks.

He looked at the monster.

He released the grip.

And redirected it — the specific rotation of intent, telekinetic hold converting from arrest to ’throw’ in the same motion, and the monster went.

Not toward him.

Outward — upward — across the forest canopy, trajectory calculated in the specific, unhurried way that a man calculates a throw when the destination is already obvious, thirty tons of screaming demonic boar arcing through the morning air above the tree line like a stone from a siege weapon.

It caught the light.

Briefly.

The specific, absurd, magnificent sight of a thirty-ton monster-class beast at altitude, backlit by morning sky, tusks and red eyes and screaming, and then gravity finished the math.

He watched it go.

Hands behind his back.

"’—what a good husband I am,’" he said, to the forest, to the sky, to the mountain range visible over the trees. "’—helping you practice with a live enemy.’"