Witch's Embrace

"The Witch's Convent" by DaoistaHADNk

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Portel had lived in the South Harbor District for over ten years. From their clothing, she was sure they were ordinary people born and raised in the slum; she could even roughly say which store their clothes came from!

But how had these impoverished people suddenly become noble spellcasters?!

She didn't understand, and at that moment, the opposite side raised their hands for a second round of bombardment. So, she had to duck her head again to continue dodging!

Boom, boom, boom—

Another series of explosions occurred. Portel took a deep breath, forcibly enduring the pungent stench mixed with toxic fumes, and shouted, "Throw spears, counterattack!"

With that, she stepped out from behind cover and threw her spear!

She was very sure that these people were previously impoverished residents of the South Harbor District, likely unable to even read, so they certainly weren't high-level spellcasters.

Based on her experience, a low-level spellcaster casting two first-level spells was already at their limit, so now was the time to strike back!

Whoosh—

Her spear was extremely accurate, penetrating a cultist instantly. Even though her thirty subordinates weren't as precise, with a shower of projectiles, they still managed to hit three or five times, piercing the bodies of the cultists!

Great, an effective counterattack!

Portel felt a sense of joy, but then what happened next astonished her again.

She saw in the distance several cultists pushing two four-wheeled carts, each carrying a wooden statue over three meters tall, with strange and unclear forms.

They mumbled incantations towards the statues, and then one of the statues emitted a ring of yellow light.

"Ugh—"

Instantly, the cultists who had been pierced through the chest and abdomen by the spears let out a painful roar. Though they were on the verge of death, they suddenly stood up again, as if they feared no pain, pulling the spears out of their bodies, dragging out a mess of blood and even pieces of their entrails!

Such wounds would render anyone else unable to stand, even if not dead. But those guys acted as if nothing had happened, and even their wounds writhed for a moment, with the bleeding stopping on its own!

What kind of monsters are these?!

Portel didn't know, and then she saw another statue with a blue glow appearing at its top.

Buzz—

"Ah—!"

"Hsss—ah—!"

"My lord—ah—grant me strength!"

Invisible magical power surged through the air, and suddenly a gust of wind swept across the slum. The cultists at the front began to emit strange shouts, and then, as if mad, each frantically tore off their upper clothing, revealing their rough, sallow, emaciated bodies with protruding ribs and blue-white dense strange tattoos covering them!

Then the blue dots of light seemed to find their targets and eagerly burrowed into the tattoos. Several cultists thereby gained new strength, raised their hands, and chanted an obscure incantation: "Chromatic Orb—!"

Whoosh—

Once again, several chromatic orbs shot out, forcing the Amazon female warriors, who had just emerged, to withdraw again, completely on the defensive!

...

"...That's the situation, Master, what should we do?"

Less than a hundred meters from the battlefield, Andinie was orally broadcasting in real-time what she was seeing. Her expression showed some shock, and the remaining witches also had complex expressions.

Having hunted here for years, they knew very well that the slum couldn't naturally produce over twenty spellcasters suddenly—especially since this was clearly not the full extent of the opposition's power; there were certainly more inside the lumber yard!

The only possibility was that Die, relying on her extensive mana reserves as a witch, shared her casting ability with her followers, turning them all into first-level warlocks, thereby creating so many spellcasters at once!

This was truly... a costly expenditure!

But it also indicated two things: first, Die's mind was indeed not clear right now; otherwise, with her arrogance, she wouldn't share her precious power with ordinary humans; second, her power had likely returned to peak condition, otherwise it wouldn't be possible to sustain the mana consumption of so many spellcasters simultaneously!

Although they were all the lowest level of first-level spellcasters, they were overwhelming because of their sheer numbers!

At this, Hawthorne frowned slightly. Even though he hadn't seen it with his own eyes yet, he recognized what Die's followers were using.

Souls Touch the Statue.

This type of statue can quickly gather dispersed magical energy from the atmosphere and then transfer it to the surrounding spellcasters with corresponding "receptor tattoos," rapidly restoring their injuries or consumed mana.

Hawthorne remembered that the best statues could even restore three mana points to a spellcaster within a minute, which was far more monstrous than the recovery speed he experienced on Witch's Night.

However, the cost of using this thing was quite substantial: first, this technology originally belonged to the mind flayers, so creating one of these required the extraction of a brain from a high-level occupation holder while alive.

This is the core material, and no substitutes have been found so far, so anyone with even a slight moral principle couldn't possibly create this.

Moreover, the "receptor tattoos" on the cultists' bodies were also made from a part of their own brains: in other words, they had to perform surgery on themselves, cut away a portion of their brain, making themselves incomplete, and irreversibly heading towards madness in the future in order to gain this power!

Additionally, there's another point: this thing is very unstable. Using it to heal wounds might cause a tumor to grow elsewhere before the wound heals, making the body malformed; using it to restore mana greatly overstimulates the mind, damages sanity, and accelerates their descent into madness.

In fact, the cultists currently fighting with the Amazons were already showing very clear signs of madness. Their sanity wouldn't hold out until sunrise tomorrow.

This is truly fighting with their lives...

Hawthorne couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. Then, he took a deep breath, "The key to this battle is those two statues. Heidi, Ectar, Cuivis, the four of us will deal with the ordinary cultists—we can't let those Amazon women all die, they still need to help us draw fire!"

"Yuta, I need you to break through their blockade at all costs, and absolutely destroy the statues first!"

"Understood!" Yuta nodded. With Cuivis having lost part of his strength, she was now the strongest among them, so naturally, she should take on the most critical task!

"And Yuta," Hawthorne continued, "when breaking through, if you are forced to kill the enemy, then you must remember to change your previous killing habits!"

Yuta took a deep breath and nodded seriously, "Understood!"

Her previous habit was beheading, and if she did that today, suspicion would undoubtedly fall on her!

"Alright then," Hawthorne nodded in acknowledgment. "Begin the operation!"

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