The Butcher of Sargon (LoL x Arknight Fanfiction)

With the detonation of the high-concentration liquid Originium bomb, the central control hub of the entire factory's core zone was blown sky-high.

Without the control of the terminal intelligence, all the mechanical guards in the factory went into standby mode. Even the controlled bio-monsters temporarily fell into slumber.

To prevent the progression of ore disease in Saria and Kal'tsit, Garde had no choice but to drag his injured body and carry them both to the outskirts of the factory, far from the control hub. He found a house that hadn't collapsed, settled them inside, and then collapsed on the ground, like a dead crocodile.

Garde hadn't been this exhausted in a long time.

Not even the previous battles with the Seaborn left him this tired. He had nothing left to give! But this was precisely why Garde came to the Hotlands, because only here could he recklessly expend his power without reserve.

If he were anywhere else, fighting against a bunch of ordinary mercenaries or soldiers wouldn't yield much experience, and he could easily end up on a wanted list if things went wrong.

This sequence of battles at the factory alone made Garde feel like his experience bar had filled up significantly. He couldn't say how far he was from leveling up to five, but once he recovered, his mastery over Ascension Power would definitely improve.

Who knows, he might even learn his ultimate ability before reaching level six!

Garde also realized something else: fundamentally, using Ascension Power was similar to how Terrans used Originium Arts. While the essence of the energy was different, the methods of application had elements worth borrowing.

After this incident, he might really need to go to Columbia and formally study this.

Garde didn't know how many factories this resurrected ancient empire had, but taking out one was a start. If there were more, he'd have to deal with them on his own.

Next time, though, he'd definitely bring Surtr along!

Seeing the severely injured Saria and Kal'tsit, Garde let out a soft sigh.

He sat up, gazing at the sleeping Saria beside him. His fingers gently brushed through her hair.

Both Saria and Kal'tsit were badly hurt; any careless movement could worsen their injuries.

Garde scratched his head in frustration. Their wounds might not be fatal, but leaving them untreated would definitely cause problems. But he wasn't a doctor!

Wait.

Garde remembered that before they entered the Hotlands, they had buried some excess supplies outside—lightening their load for the journey—including water, food, and medicine.

Kal'tsit carried some medical supplies with her, but she had used most of them. Saria had brought her own, but most of them were powerful enhancers with severe side effects.

On reflection, both of them could technically be considered doctors, but now both were out of commission. A doctor cannot heal themselves.

With no other choice, Garde had to personally administer some basic first aid to the two of them. Treating injuries meant clothes had to come off, and if the wound was in some hidden place, well, there was no helping it.

When it comes to saving lives, you can't afford to be squeamish. 

Besides, Saria was his girlfriend—if he saw something, so be it.

Of course, the likelihood of injuries in those "three points" was slim, as they cover such a small part of the body. So, for the most part, he only needed to take off their outer layers.

While treating her, it was unavoidable that Garde touched some soft areas. Despite her tough personality and well-toned physique, where she was supposed to be firm, she was firm, and where she was supposed to be soft, she was soft.

Truly, as expected of his girlfriend!

With that thought, Garde's body and mind had little reaction.

Saria was really that badly hurt.

Once he had removed her clothes, any stray thoughts immediately vanished.

Her skin, normally as smooth and delicate as a blank sheet of paper, was now covered in bruises, many of which were caused by internal bone fractures and bleeding.

Garde couldn't help but wish he had Shurima's water of life. That stuff could bring even the gravely wounded back from the brink of death. Saria's injuries would be nothing compared to that.

But he didn't have it, so he could only provide basic wound care for Saria before putting her clothes back on.

Fortunately, Saria hadn't suffered injuries in any critical areas. Otherwise, Garde would have been in a tough spot because Saria was wearing a tight-fitting vest. Treating any internal wounds would have required either removing or tearing the vest.

Neither option was a good one.

After treating Saria's wounds, it was Kal'tsit's turn.

Garde felt far less self-conscious about Kal'tsit. Given her age, she wouldn't act shy like a young girl. He quickly removed her coat.

"Hmm, white lace?"

Garde hadn't expected Kal'tsit, despite her age, to have such a pure-hearted side. 

He'd heard that white symbolizes purity, representing a woman who keeps herself chaste. 

Even if she harbors strong emotions, she would be quite reserved about them.

With her clothes on, she didn't seem like much, but once undressed, she was more impressive than expected. 

According to her stats panel, she was a C-cup, barely, but still not small.

By comparison, Kal'tsit, Gavial, and Laurentia were all about the same size, with Saria being slightly larger.

The largest he'd encountered so far was probably Ho'olheyak, the woman who had unexpectedly appeared in his dreamscape to lend him a hand.

Garde casually slapped his face, shaking off his stray thoughts. 

Just as he was about to continue treating Kal'tsit, he felt a piercing gaze on him.

Kal'tsit had woken up, though he wasn't sure when.

She looked at Garde, who had been staring at her chest, and asked in a cold voice, "Is it nice to look at?"

Garde met her gaze, nodding seriously, "It does look nice."

Garde had always been honest.

Cue the feeling of impending doom.

...

Unbeknownst to Garde, his actions had been observed from a few hundred meters away by a Sarkaz man who had just entered the outer wall of the factory.

"Scout, what did you see?"

The Sarkaz wasn't alone on the wall. Hearing the voice behind him, the camouflaged man pulled his mask up a bit higher. Even in the scorching heat, he was trembling, his whole body icy cold.

"I think... we're too late."

"What did you say?"

"I think I just saw a naked lizardman... assaulting Doctor Kal'tsit."

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