CHAPTER 15: THE MOST POWERFUL MAGIC

The curse on me hasn’t been lifted yet, and now there’s another one. How am I gonna handle this?

Wayne’s expression darkened as he finally understood what the omnipresent warning sounded by his supernatural sense meant. Now he wanted nothing more than to urge Bloody Mike to complete the ritual quickly.

Wait, that’s not right!

If—and he did mean if—he was also considered part of the town, would completing the ritual mean that he would also rest in peace? With his life hanging by a thread, he pushed aside decorum and asked the question bluntly. The priest nodded, confirming that yes, everyone would meet the same fate.

Wayne’s face twisted. “Where’s the ritual held? Tell me.”

The priest didn’t answer directly. He only said that every year, he would visit the Nelson Manor to tend to the graves, and a few days ago, he saw fresh flowers on the gravestones, signaling the return of the Nelson family successor.

“Perhaps he came for revenge, but continuing the unfinished ritual of the Nelsons will allow everyone to rest in peace. I hope you won’t stop him.”

“But then we’ll die, too.”

The priest fell silent. That was the case.

He began to describe the tragedy of Klofron. On the surface, the town looked no different from other towns, and the townspeople appeared normal. But on this night every year, everyone would reveal their true faces, struggling in scorching flames and longing for release from the eternal suffering their souls were trapped in.

But after tonight, everyone would forget about it without even the faintest memory of their nightmares.

Wayne and the others sympathized with the townspeople’s plight, but they refused to become part of the send-off. Now, they only wanted to stop the ritual to avoid an unwanted peaceful rest for themselves.

The priest wouldn’t just let them leave, of course, but his rigid mind prevented him from using advanced divine arts, and his attempt ended up interrupted by Veronica’s gunshot. Wayne followed up with two blows of his crowbar, silencing the priest completely.

The group ran out of the church. William looked back and asked, “Does that count as a peaceful end?”

Obviously not. The priest’s withered body reassembled with missing parts regenerating from nothing. His magical power in life made his recovery far faster than the other townspeople. Before Wayne’s group could go far, he was already standing and walking.

A dense pack of zombies circled the church. They didn’t step onto the church grounds, seemingly afraid of something. They howled and waited for Wayne’s group to walk within their reach. Behind them, the priest had come out of the church, cradling their version of a sacred tomein his hand.

Wayne stood on the lawn between the fence and the gate. They were threatened on both fronts. They had to fight their way out as soon as possible.

Bang!

Veronica turned and blew the priest’s head off with one precise shot, her marksmanship making him extremely envious.

Coach, how much do I pay to learn that ‘magic’?

“We need to go back to the Nelson estate. The Deathwalker must be there!”

Veronica gritted her teeth. She got tricked again. Couldn’t dirty adults be honest for once?

“Wayne and I checked the castle and found no one. We also destroyed a summoning ritual,” William quickly said. “Perhaps we didn’t check thoroughly enough, but if the Deathwalker isn’t there, we’ll be wasting precious time, won’t we?”

Wayne whirled around, eyes snapping to the church.

The priest knows that Mike’s returned, and he’s glad that Mike’s completing the ritual! He’s unwilling to reveal the ritual location! The zombies don’t dare to enter the church grounds!

Following the reasoning, the strange ritual on the castle platform was nothing but a ploy to buy time. Everything fit together.

Wayne’s eyes lit up. To prove his theory, he grabbed air and inhaled deeply. He didn’t smell any living person besides themselves, which would indicate that Mike hadn’t visited the church, but... magic could hide scents. Mike might have meticulously erased all traces to prevent disruption to his plan.

Someone once said that only magic can defeat magic!

“Goddess, this is the most mana I can gather.”

For this brief moment, he was Moonlight’s follower. He used up all of his mana and took a deep breath, his chest puffing. Once he filtered out the scents of the bear, the young lady, the black cat, and the hottie, he identified the strong death energy. The Book of Greed immediately cast an eager gaze in that direction.

He got into a coughing fit from running out of breath. Then he exclaimed to Veronica with excitement, “I smelled it! Bloody Mike is in the church!”

Three pairs of eyes gazed at him silently.

So you actually have a dog’s nose? Scratch that. Not even a dog’s nose is this sensitive!

“It’s Moonlight’s blessing. She granted me the sense of smell of a beast...” Wayne took two large steps toward the church. When no one followed, he halted and called out, “What are you waiting for? Come on!”

William and Veronica exchanged a glance. The former nodded, willing to trust Wayne this once; the latter clenched her teeth and nodded as well. It was just a short trip back to the church. If they failed, they wouldn’t have wasted much time.

It takes a liar to know a liar. Maybe he’s made a lucky guess!

They rushed into the church. As Wayne passed the priest, he saw the undead man slowly getting up. He smashed his head in with the crowbar without even stopping.

The light inside was dim. William had quickly scrounged up some mana during the time, and with a wave of his large hand, he conjured some light. Wayne shook his head and took out a flashlight. With his sense of smell still enhanced by the lingering buff, he followed his nose through the side door to the back of the church, stopping in front of a row of bedrooms.

“Bloody Mike, I know you’re in there. Come on out. Your plan has failed,” Wayne’s loud voice carried far in the night.

A moment later, the door in the middle slowly opened, and a man in a dark suit walked out. Mike Nelson. His attire wasn’t classy, merely formal, and he wasn’t particularly tall. At thirty-some years old, his hair was already greying on the sides. The hardships of his early life had prematurely ended his youth.

One of his eyes glowed crimson as he surveyed the group. He put on white gloves, on each of which was a black inverted triangle. They were magical items.

“I spent considerable time setting up the fake ritual at the castle, but failed to lure you there. How should I put it? I got unlucky and overestimated you?”

Mike laughed wryly. He had made extensive preparations for today’s ritual and considered the various scenarios, including interventions from other mages. But no powerful mages showed up, only a few beginners, making his elaborate lies fall on deaf ears.

Veronica scoffed, pulling the trigger twice, accurately hitting him in the chest and the head.

Even with two holes put in his vital parts, Mike did not collapse as he should. Instead, he tapped at his temple and said, “Don’t waste your energy. I’ve been assimilated into this town. You can’t kill me here.”

That’s because your health bar’s not showing yet! Wayne grumbled silently.

Veronica frowned. “You’ve accepted the curse and become an undead, and you plan to sacrifice yourself to the Goddess of Death?”

“It’s not a curse, but a Law, a precious one...” Mike smiled. “You seem like academy students. It’s normal for flowers growing up sheltered not to know the real sky. The teachers won’t explain to you such profound knowledge. Some of them may not even know what magic truly is or what they believe in.”

Veronica had had enough of his nonsense. She tossed a can at him—it was an advanced version of the consumable mushrooms. Hallucinogenic, corrupting spores grow rapidly with Mike as nutrients, empowering themselves while corroding his body and mind.

The effect was lackluster. His appearance of aliveness was just that, a skin-deep illusion. He could provide little nutrients, and his strong will prevented the spores from interfering with his thoughts.

Veronica clicked her tongue. Perhaps melee attacks would work better. She grabbed the crowbar Wayne handed her and prepared to dismantle Mike.

Never mind, let’s start some good old beating!

But Mike was well-prepared. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, instantly turning the ground to black sludge. Coiling arms bound their ankles and held them in place. Monica was the only one who had reacted in time, scrambling up to Wayne’s shoulder.

Mike didn’t immediately attack them. With his connection with the black arms, he sensed something from Veronica and William that made his eyes light up with pleasant surprise. “Apologies. I see you’re heretics blessed by Death’s agent. Good. Quality sacrifices will increase the success rate of the ritual.”

He rolled up his sleeve and checked his watch. His dark crimson right eye turned pitch black as he muttered, “It’s coming, this long-overdue night...”

Bang!

What sounded like a cannon shot rang out. Mike looked over, only seeing a blur before he was flying into the wall behind him. Even with her mana sealed, Veronica had managed to break out of the magical bindings through sheer physical strength; such was the power of a Dragonblood.

She tossed a glass bottle behind. Rapidly growing vines swept away the black marsh, freeing Wayne and William.

Bam!

Rumble—

She unleashed violence and pinned Mike to the ground, thrashing him mercilessly. Regardless of whether she was able to finish him off, she made it seem like she could with dramatic flair—she had nearly demolished all of the bedrooms on this side.

Monica whispered to Wayne’s ear, “Veronica can’t win without mana. I’ll give you mine. You have to deal with the Deathwalker.”

Monica had lost its original body due to the curse. Although the curse had not sealed its mana, it could only cast a limited array of support spells. And because of their differences in beliefs, Monica couldn’t lend Veronica or William mana.

Wayne was different. Monica had injected him with a seed of mana, making him a proper follower of the Goddess of Moonlight; that was what Monica believed, at least. It believed it had found Moonlight an asset with great potential.

“Would it work?” Wayne asked with his lips pursed. More mana was always good, but he hadn’t learned any spells to make use of it. Besides, the Book of Greed no longer craved another’s mana... Wouldn’t Monica be wasting its?

“Magic isn’t that complicated,” Monica said. “How it manifests depends on your thinking. Use your imagination to envision the most powerful magic you can think of, but don’t make it too outlandish. Or the backlash will hit me, too.”

“Remember, mana is merely the leverage, while your mind is the key!”

That didn’t help clarify things for Wayne. The most powerful magic in his mind was a little thing called an atomic bomb—temperatures exceeding 4000 degrees and a power that would equalize everyone and everything. Could mana manifest that?

“Have you thought of something?”

“I have an idea. It’s gonna go boom! And it’ll be really bright and hot. Will that work, though? It seems like the Goddess of Sun’s...”

“That’s fine. Moonlight can do it as well.”

...Really? Be scientific. Don’t let competitiveness cloud your judgment.

He scrunched up his face. Monica was certain that it would work, while he didn’t have much confidence. Most importantly, a bomb would kill him, too.

He didn’t have much time to think before Monica’s mana was flowing into him. An image flashed through his head, and he perked up.

I choose you!