Man With Super Medical Skill (Matthew) novel Chapter 3549

Matthew stood at the doorway, plainly revealing what he had sensed outside the Governor's Keep.

Ten thousand soldiers weren't much of a threat to him. If he wanted to, he could cut a bloody path through them with ease. Back when Montiria's armies had marched with hundreds of thousands under Iris' command, Matthew had still navigated through their ranks without breaking a sweat.

Vmm.

The ancient sword, Bloodreaper, hummed softly in his hand.

Since arriving in the West Montiria Islands, Matthew hadn't needed to use Bloodreaper until now—only unsheathing it moments earlier to disarm the enemy soldiers in a heartbeat.

Both Olexar and Orla exchanged glances, their expressions tense.

"Ten thousand?" Olexar muttered. "It seems Brennan was holding back."

Orla quickly pieced the situation together. Brennan must have lied about his forces, deliberately understating their numbers by half. Otherwise, he never would have dared to storm the Governor's Keep with Paxton.

Olexar's brows furrowed in thought as he turned toward Matthew. "Mr. Larden, what should we do now? Orla has already sent Toliver to mobilize Ore Island's troops, but they'll need at least half an hour to arrive. Should we find a place to hide until then?"

Though he posed the question, Olexar's tone hinted at his preference—facing 10,000 soldiers head-on seemed reckless, no matter how skilled Matthew might be.

Matthew shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No need. Leave this to me."

With that, he stepped forward, his figure tall and unwavering as he strode out of the hall.

Orla watched his retreating figure, a flicker of hope stirring within her chest. For the first time, she felt a sense of trust—perhaps Matteo truly could resolve everything.

Matthew crossed the threshold of the Governor's Keep, moving toward the dense forest that surrounded the grounds. Beneath the moonlight, his hand moved to the hilt of his sword, wrapped in a strip of white cloth. Slowly, he drew the ancient blade from its scabbard.

…

Hidden among the trees, the ten thousand-strong rebel force lay in wait, their breaths held as they anticipated Brennan's signal. But the command never came, and unease began to creep into the ranks.

"No… sir," the scout gasped, catching his breath before blurting, "It's just… one person! We're surrounded by one man!"

The commander froze mid-thought, blinking as if he'd misheard. "What did you say?"

"One person!"

Smack!

The commander slapped the scout across the face, the sharp crack echoing through the clearing.

"What do you keep in that f*cking head of yours?! One person?!" He barked, half in disbelief, half in amusement. "You're telling me that one person has surrounded an army of 10,000? Do you think my men are a bunch of helpless lambs?!"

The scout clutched his cheek, eyes watering from the sting. "But, sir, he's really strong!"