Her whereabouts exposed, Feiling leaped down from the beam. Mid-air, she drew her shortbow fully, sending a feathered arrow straight for Ginny’s throat.
Yet the arrow never struck its target.
A black-robed cultist standing slightly behind the priestess stepped sideways as if anticipating it. With a flick of his long staff, he deflected the arrow, pinning it into a nearby wooden pillar where the fletching quivered violently.
Vera emerged from the shadows behind the stone pillar, curved blade in hand. His gaze swept over Anton and the other sacrifices before settling on Ginny’s face. “Release them. We’ll leave immediately.”
Ginny offered no reply, only a gentle shake of her head, as if refusing a child’s unreasonable request.
Then she raised the simple white staff in her hand and lightly waved it toward the surrounding black-robed followers.
Potential Stimulation!
As if on cue, the black-robed cultists roared and charged, weapons raised.
Facing the onslaught, Vera positioned himself at the forefront. He moved through gaps in flashing blades and swords, firmly drawing all frontal pressure to within a few feet of himself.
Feiyin stayed behind, chanting rapidly. Pale-green binding light bands and occasional pale-blue shield glows appeared at critical moments, slowing enemy encirclement or blocking sneak attacks.
Feiling darted high and low. Her arrows sought no instant kills, instead targeting the weakest points in enemy formation, disrupting forming encirclements, fragmenting the numerically superior foes, preventing them from leveraging their numbers.
Through the trio’s tacit coordination, they actually held back the cultists’ assault.
But balance shattered with the staff-wielding cultist’s entry.
His skill in deflecting Feiling’s arrow earlier was already impressive. Now under Potential Stimulation, his movements blurred with afterimages.
Seizing a moment when Vera parried a longsword, he burst into the circle. Feiling’s incoming arrow dodged by a head twist. Then a plain yet massively powerful front kick slammed into Vera’s hastily raised blade back.
Vera flew backward uncontrollably, crashing through a row of decayed pews before stopping.
The staff cultist pursued relentlessly, no chance for Vera to regroup. Attacks flowed endlessly. Vera struggled left and right. Curved blade and long staff sparked continuously, yet only step-by-step retreat, dangers mounting.
Vera suppressed, the trio’s coordination cracked. Feiling and Feiyin’s pressure doubled.
Facing surging cultists, Feiling’s arrows grew hurried, barely blocking multiple directions. Feiyin’s protective spells flickered, faltering under increasing attacks.
Situation critical. Vera dared hold nothing back.
Blade grip style shifted. Elbow slightly sank. Arm force trajectory changed from hard block to guiding flow.
Incoming staff slid along curved blade spine. Vera’s body flowed sideways half step like water, not only evading fatal strike but, in passing instant, curved blade borrowing staff forward momentum, tip arcing impossibly upward counter-slash.
Rip!
The cultist dominating moments ago suffered deep bone-visible gash from right ribs diagonally to left shoulder.
Without last-moment battle instinct desperate lean back, the slash would have gutted him.
This blade style Vera learned from mist’s otherworld soldiers, vicious and ruthless. He didn’t like it.
But now wasn’t time for personal preference.
Vera pressed advantage. Cultist flustered, continuous retreat, defeat looming.
As Vera reversed situation, Feiling and Feiyin easing pressure to regroup, Ginny, standing ritual edge as if detached, finally moved.
A wisp of faint blue flame silently ignited in her palm.
“Mortals always thus, unable discern good evil. I wish no pain for you, but ritual must continue. High Priestess awaits me.”
Words fallen, she gently clenched fingers.
Palm faint blue flame didn’t burst. Instead formed pale blue ring, expanding centered on her.
Ring swept past. Roaring cultists, struggling Vera trio, even corner goblin half-freed bindings, all quieted instantly.
...
Vera’s surroundings shifted. As if back in mist.
He watched mist like greedy beast swallow familiar faces.
Drinking buddies. Always mature, age-secretive Sirian. Finally, screaming reaching hands futilely dragged by mist, Feiling and Feiyin.
Mist surged toward him, to drag him in.
Retreat? No!
Vera advanced instead, charging mist!
They still inside! Pull them out!
Touching mist instant, like ice water bucket overhead. All illusions shattered.
He remained half-kneeling cold abandoned church floor. Curved blade dropped nearby. Chest heaving violent breaths.
“Sister…”
“I was wrong, I was wrong…”
Surroundings filled fearful whimpers and mutters.
Mad black-robed cultists, Feiling and Feiyin, now collapsed ground, curled trembling or vacant eyes murmuring, deep in personal deepest fear illusions, inescapable.
Only清醒: caster Ginny and staff cultist.
He leaned staff, body swaying slightly, forehead cold sweat, seemed just escaped illusion. But faster than Vera, stepped on Vera’s curved blade.
Seeing Vera rapidly regain senses too, surprise flashed eyes.
“Such resolute will, even rare among devout believers. Pity.”
Staff pressed chest. Vera dead end. “You faster.”
Staff cultist shook head. “Not faster, just more experience. First sinking, I far worse than you.”
Though admiring Vera’s will, no intent sparing.
“Vera… don’t, don’t leave me alone…” Nearby, Feiling’s unconscious murmur reached Vera’s ears.
“I won’t…” Vera low replied.
Instant, something activated.
Staff cultist and distant watching Ginny simultaneously heart-palpitating!
Cultist staff originally smashing Vera shoulder, redirected head!
Yet figure madly rushed from outside, high-raised short dagger, pouncing staff cultist back!
The fleeing cultist, now eyes purple, face bliss, completely unaware actions.
Staff forced trajectory change, backward sweep, solidly smashing attacker chest.
Attacker chest visibly caved. Blood sprayed mouth, like rag bag flying crashing wall, then silent.
“Useless trash!” Church outer shadow, quietly watching succubus Moya stomped furious. Just expended effort barely controlling mentally weak guy, instant killed.
Seeing momentum gone, Moya prepared slipping away.
Church interior, battle unexpected interference subtly shifted.
Attacked by own, staff cultist puzzled, but hands unrelenting. Staff smashed Vera again.
This time, gaze on Vera, no longer cornered prey.
Pair eyes.
Unnoticed when, Vera stood straight.
Deep eyes overflowed pure holy glow, completely mismatched bloodied wretched appearance.
Dropped curved blade, now handle firmly gripped Vera hand. Cold tip fully buried staff cultist chest.
“This…?”
Vera state abnormal.
No answer opponent final question, even glance fleeing Ginny.
He slowly withdrew curved blade, letting opponent corpse slump.
Then turned, half-kneeling beside Feiling and Feiyin, checking condition. Eye glow gradually faded.
Outside Moya blankly watched interior sudden reversal, unsure jump in.
Watching ground Feiling, faint inexplicable envy.
...
Meanwhile, peak battle concluded.
Battlefield wreckage. Involved cultists sprawled, bodies bearing dark-green poison marks or embedded shattered wood.
Mid-air, slime and scout Puchi final pass, splashing viscous drops and shattered mycelium.
Breeze through clearing. Scout Puchi damaged body swayed twice, finally collapsed ground, lifeless.
Slime condition equally miserable.
Originally plump body shrunken nearly half, color dulled. Ground everywhere splattered dark-green mucus.
Won.
Though pyrrhic, last standing.
Victory natural, claim spoils.
It wriggled over, planning dissolve digest opponent.
Whoosh!
Mushroom cannon landed less foot ahead, blasting small pit, soil splashing.
Puchi, puchi, puchi.
Three scout Puchis identical appearance size to ground corpse, quietly appeared, surrounding it.
Exhausted slime, froze place...
(End of Chapter)
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