Chapter 286: Burning Soul

Witte had lost his voice. His throat felt broken. Only his thoughts continued to spiral in his mind. He crawled over on all fours, hugging Mr. Turtledove’s head, as a trail of bloody tears flowed from his eye sockets.

Just then, Mr. Turtledove’s head and headless body began to transform, turning into the head and corpse of an unfamiliar woman.

She had a scholarly appearance, a petite figure, and her final expression seemed a mix of astonishment and relief.

Witte looked at Mr. Turtledove’s head in shock. That unfamiliar young woman’s face was deeply imprinted in his heart. He corroded the corpse into pus and mechanically drilled into the sewer with the head.

Since his parents passed away five years ago, Witte had always been alone. It wasn’t until he met Misha and Mr. Turtledove that his life regained color. However, his colors were gone now.

The entire Milne City was in chaos. Witte fled numbly through the sewers. Without any sense of vigilance, he traversed the web-like sewers, disregarding the filth covering his body.

The sound of breaking air attacked.

Witte hugged the head wretchedly and dodged several sounds of breaking air, but his left thigh was still hit.

He opened his perception but saw neither enemy nor weapon. His right leg seemed to be grabbed by something invisible, dragging him rapidly southward.

A struggle appeared on Witte’s numb face. He couldn’t die. Both Misha and Mr. Turtledove wanted him to live. He couldn’t die!

Negative Energy condensed into sharp blades, slashing directly in the direction pulling him with the power of withering.

Witte’s 0-Ring Spell Model, corrected based on actual combat: Wither Blade. Sharp physical damage, strong corrosive effect, and capable of weakening the opponent’s life force, leading to overall weakness.

A scream rang out. The invisible life dragging Witte seemed to have suffered heavy damage, and a section of pitch-black tentacle appeared.

“Oh ho, the pain lingering on you is like the scorching sun, burning my heart. I am captivated by you. Could it be that you also believe in pain?”

Hoods, Pain Masks, twisted figures. One, two, three… a total of thirteen people.

Witte listened to their simultaneous words, narrowed his eyes, and hugged the head in his arms tightly.

Negative Energy gathered around him. Wither Blades appeared one by one. The colorless and odorless Plague Poison Cloud slowly spread under the cover of Negative Energy.

“The smell of death? Oh, you Heretic, enjoy the favor of pain!”

The thirteen believers of pain spoke in unison, their voices coming from all directions like a grand chorus.

Invisible Touch of Pain followed the attack. Witte couldn’t observe or perceive this strange emotional touch and was inevitably injured. To protect himself, he turned Negative Energy into a ring, manipulating six Wither Blades to rotate around him.

The Wither Blades remained ready but unreleased, rotating according to the trajectory of the Negative Energy ring to protect him, quickly cutting all incoming Touch of Pain.

“You damn Heretic, actually using such a rogue method. Feel the wrath of pain.”

Accompanying the voices from all directions, the invisible Touch of Pain turned into tangible flames of pain. The expressions on the Pain Masks of the thirteen believers were hideous and despairing as the flames burned fiercely.

Witte activated the Lesser Spell Bouncing Legs, fleeing and dodging wretchedly while holding the head. He inevitably entered his own poison cloud and was invaded by the toxins.

The thirteen believers of pain surrounded Witte, roasting him with flames of pain. Every time he was hit by the flames, Witte inevitably grunted.

Toxins gradually accumulated in the bodies of the believers of pain. Witte detonated the balance of the toxins. Seven believers died on the spot, and the remaining six also lost their combat capability, being finished off one by one by Witte’s Wither Blades.

But the damage from the flames of pain and the toxins had also invaded Witte’s body. Willpower supported him to continue fleeing. He escaped wretchedly from the Milne City sewer outlet and fled towards Port Mila.

One month later, Port Mila.

The rain in April was the most lingering. Witte had been wandering in Port Mila for two weeks. He was tattered all over, his handsome face had become ashen, and the flames of pain were like maggots on bones, impossible to remove, burning his soul constantly.

Because of the attack in Milne City, Punishers struck out everywhere. The Wizard Apprentices subordinate to the local Magic Council were silent as cicadas in winter. They all accepted the unified command to act under the names of the Torch-Stealer Alliance, Devil Worshipers, etc., to maximize their concealment.

Since the command was bound by magical contracts and the Wizard Apprentices’ own self-preservation thoughts, it was implemented to the greatest extent.

The consequence was that Witte couldn’t find the local Wizard Apprentice organization, and thus couldn’t know the exact location where the Magic Ship docked.

“Legend says the High Tower is in an archipelago. If I can’t find the Magic Ship, I will cross the sea myself to find it.”

Amidst the continuous rain, in a coastal reef cave near Port Mila, Witte held the preserved head of Ms. Turtledove, staring at the head and speaking word by word.

“I will definitely take you to see the future of magic together.” He clenched the conch shell around his neck. This ordinary conch shell had turned into a Wonder Item; Misha’s longing seemed to reside within it.

“And my Misha. Not only must I live, but I must also take revenge. What they inflicted on us, I will return tenfold!”

Violent coughing ensued, and Witte’s face became even more ashen. He tried hard to calm down, immersing himself in his Soul Sanctuary. Negative Energy slowly diffused through his entire soul.

This was the only method Witte had discovered so far to resist the invasion of the flames of pain: neutralizing the flames of pain with Negative Energy.

His body became weaker and weaker. Barely resisting the flames of pain, he was already powerless to perceive anything around him.

With a thud, Witte fell to the ground. He was in a trance, vaguely seeing light and dark shifting. Ravens seemed to be cawing. Countless strange ravens gathered, gradually generating a two-dimensional pitch-black humanoid figure.

“What a strange person…”

Witte fainted.

The pitch-black humanoid figure gradually became three-dimensional. It was exactly Ace.

In the True-Illusion Dream world within his Soul Sanctuary, more than four hundred Shadow Ravens were gradually returning to his dream world.

This was Ace’s latest discovery. Dream life and shadow creatures shared some commonalities. Perhaps they existed in the same dimension; shadow creatures could enter the True-Illusion Dream world.

More than four hundred Shadow Ravens blotted out the sun all day long. The dream lives in the True-Illusion Dream were terrified. Watching these immense ravens, fear spread among them.

Ace ignored the dream lives and carefully studied the flock of ravens in the True-Illusion world, attempting to dye them with dream attributes, turning the raven flock into magical creatures possessing both shadow and dream attributes simultaneously.

If successful, his True-Illusion Dream would gain a new derivative spell.

Ace appeared here because he sensed intense Mana fluctuations. Before the Magic Ship arrived, Ace intended to clear all unstable factors and coincidentally discovered Witte.

“A crumbling body and a soul on the verge of collapse. An unregistered Advanced Wizard Apprentice. Who are you?”

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