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edvertisementideas > Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End > Volume N/A - CH 220
The moment Roel’s hand came into contact with Cynthia’s head, pale yellow mana began cloaking her body. Through his hand, it flowed into her body.

The next moment, Cynthia jolted from the great impact, causing her body to stiffen. It wasn’t an impact arising from aggression. In truth, Roel hadn’t used any spells at all. The suppression she felt stemmed from the natural suppression arising from a superior being towering above her.

As the Primordial Earth Goddess, Peytra’s powers were the purest form of the Unyielding Origin Attribute. The other believers who managed to obtain the Unyielding Origin Attribute were able to bask in her afterglow, but the differences were clear. This was also the reason why ancient gods were able to influence those beneath them on the ladder.

As the mana of the Earth Goddess gradually suffused her body, Cynthia found her consciousness transported to a valley, where she found herself standing before a humongous snake of unbelievable proportions. This was the divine avatar of the Earth Goddess, the very original manifestation of their Origin Attribute. Her presence commanded subservience from her believers.

In this ‘illusion’, she found her mana circulating faster than ever. An old wound by the side of her ribcage began heating up as the pale yellow mana harnessing unbelievable life force began healing the physical trauma she had struggled with all these years.

Cynthia was utterly astounded by the happenings in her body. Transcendents of the Unyielding Origin Attribute were known for their overflowing life force, but she had never seen such pure energy before.

Physical trauma was one of the main reasons why mercenaries tended to live short lives. The existence of supernatural powers in this world meant that injuries could get extremely messy, especially when it involved rare toxins, unique skills, or bloodline spells. Those were very likely to haunt one for life.

The wound by the side of Cynthia’s ribcage was inflicted by an evil cultist she encountered in the midst of her mission. It was from a unique bloodline spell, and it became completely untreatable after she killed the enemy. Even though she had sought medical treatment and tried to suppress its effects as much as possible, she would still be rudely awoken by a sharp pain in the middle of the night from time to time.

The organization that was best equipped to deal with such wounds was the church, but as one could expect, such services were not offered to heretics like her.

She knew deep down that even though she could suppress the effects of the bloodline spell now that she was still at her peak, it could very well become the cause of her death a hundred years from now, when she became frail and ailing.

She had seen far too many elders in the mercenary band who had suffered the same fate, including her father.

Yet, her fate was changed today. Basked in this unprecedentedly powerful blessing, she heard Peytra’s voice so

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