Myths Reawakened

Manor House.

Wayne lounged in his reclining chair with binoculars in hand, keeping a watchful eye on Enrod. On the long table beside him were delicate pastries and black tea. He wasn’t in the habit of having afternoon tea, but Veryl had prepared everything meticulously, attempting to make him into an elegant gentleman who would be popular in high society.

But now... he slouched when standing, sprawled when sitting, and would choose sitting over standing and lying down over sitting when given the choice. He was more down-to-earth and carefree than anything.

“The magic formation disappeared...” Wayne stood up with his binoculars, his face brightening with joy. “Isabella succeeded! I knew it. I’ve got a good eye. I knew she wouldn’t let me down.”

“Young Master Wayne,” Veryl said with a smile. “Miss Isabella hasn’t returned yet.”

Right. No celebration until the final moment. Don’t jinx it.

Wayne nodded. He learned something else from Veryl today. Having such a reliable butler by his side would save him countless detours in life.

He continued to observe the town through binoculars. The hexagram above had vanished, and the tentacle had dissipated earlier. It could either be that the sacrifice had failed, and all the townspeople were saved, or it could be that the ritual had succeeded, and the townspeople had mutated, with Isabella torn apart.

Wayne wanted to do something, but he was too weak—willing but powerless to help. Though he was on his turf at the manor, he’d been a passive spectator, which was undoubtedly a failure from a strategic standpoint.

He shook his head. The path of the extraordinary was long and arduous. He had yet to achieve his short-term goals; he couldn’t become complacent just because he had made a little progress. To quickly grow into a mage in his own right and surpass the prodigies with formal training, he had to work harder than anyone.

Grind hard, grind like his life depended on it!

The spatial gateway continued to feed him the four elements. Without needing meditation, he could rapidly fill up his life essence and grow stronger with every moment. He was never going to be satisfied. Human desires were endless, and getting something would only make them want more of it. He was making progress too slowly, and he wanted nothing more than to pay for a membership to max out the downloading speed for elemental particles.

“Why is there no pay-to-win mechanism in my cheat?”

He regretted believing Jose’s nonsense that dedication made good games and pay-to-win would be a dead end. When coding, they had rewarded grinding and emphasized playtime and skills, omitting that the whales spending big money should be the VIPs.

What modern game didn’t have microtransactions? With no pay-to-win elements, was it even a game?

He pounded his chest in frustration, regretting his short-sightedness.

Bang!

A gunshot cut through the silence, followed by piercing alarms. The two maids on the ground instantly entered combat mode, readying the machine guns warily.

Wayne looked around but sensed no magical disturbance. Forget people, he didn’t even smell a ghost.

Another gunshot rang out. He looked up and saw a large white bird flying his way.

A flying unit!

The two maids swiveled the guns toward the strange white bird. It was outside their range, and aiming at aerial targets was far more difficult than ground targets. The machine guns would struggle to hit it. Same with the sniper on the rooftop. The bird was moving too fast.

Whoosh!

The big white bird spat out a piercing arrow of frothy tissues, attacking the sniper maid on the rooftop. Wayne conjured a gust of wind with a wave of his hand to deflect the projectile. Knowing her position was exposed, the maid quickly relocated to find a new vantage point.

The bird didn’t pursue her. Instead, it accelerated and dove straight at Wayne.

The various explosives buried in the front yard only worked against ground units. Against air units, they had to rely on the machine guns. The two maids held their positions and skillfully drove the bird back.

The white bird opened its beak and released a piercing wail. The disorienting force hit Veryl and the maids, assaulting their eardrums and giving them vertigo and splitting headaches that prevented accurate shooting. Veryl fared better since he had received specialized training, allowing him to hold out for a while. The three maids, on the other hand, retched and collapsed to their knees under the sonic assault.

The bird spread its wings mid-flight, its foamy feathers transforming into sharp arrows that rained down from above, whistling through the air. The target wasn’t Wayne, but Veryl and the maids.

Fucker, you’re not touching my people!

Green light flickered in Wayne’s eyes. He raised his hand again, his surging mana manipulating reality to create a curtain of wind needles. With his pure mana, he wouldn’t be able to cast this basic wind magic—the formula would not work right. However, by drawing deep green from the eye of Nature and turning his mana green, he could easily deliver the correct solution.

The rain of hair-thin needles surged upward, colliding with the foamy feather arrows. The weak triumphed over the strong with their sheer number. After a brief standoff, the dense wind blades continued upward and engulfed the white bird.

The tiny needles pierced the bird, but it was immune to physical attacks, instantly healing as it continued its piercing wail. It tried to interfere with Wayne’s mind, but to minimal effect. He only found it noisy.

However, the wail further worsened Veryl’s and the maids’ condition. The two maids outside frothed at the mouth and fainted, their limbs seizing up intermittently. The maid who had dashed into the manor had most likely fainted as well.

Veryl supported himself against the table with a grim face, struggling to maintain composure and his master’s dignity. He fired at the sky with his pistol. Every shot missed the mark by dozens of meters, not even touching a feather.

Wayne sighed in resignation. He knew that the white bird was after him. If the fight continued in front of the house, win or lose, the butler and the maids would be driven mad by the end; even if they were cured, they would still be traumatized.

Thus, he abandoned his homeground advantage and sent blades of grass shooting at the bird with a wave of his hand, gradually driving it eastward. He often practiced magic in that area and knew the terrain well, especially the forest. It would be favorable to him.

Such was the benefit of practicing Nature’s magic. Everything could be a weapon, and anywhere outside of an urban jungle or sewers would be an advantageous domain.

The white bird saw through his intention but cooperated by entering the forest. It landed on the ground, folding its wings and transforming them back into arms and tentacles. The figure stood about three meters tall, bearing some resemblance to the Lord of the Void.

There were no discernible features on the white face, only a protruding spiral opening that might be a mouth or an eye.

“Blasphemer, merge with me and return the divine artifact to Master Void!”

“Don’t talk. I’m a germaphobe.”

Wayne had never seen such an ugly creature. He shuddered with disgust. While he wasn’t afraid of mental corruption, the revolting appearance was an assault on his sensibility. It felt like having an ugly toad clinging to his foot. Although it wouldn’t do any harm, it was still a real eyesore.

Why are all these Geocentrism Sect members more twisted than the last and speaking like they walked right out of a Lovecraftian story? Is there no one who looks human?

He didn’t want to waste his breath on the strange bird monster. His eyes flickered green, and the branches of the trees swayed and rustled. Black holes that seemed like eyes and mouths gaped open on the tree trunks. The branches extended and twisted, growing wildly under magical nourishment.

There was a flurry of movements. Attention drawn by the disturbance, the strange bird monster didn’t notice vines crawling toward it and wrapping around its feet. When it realized it, Wayne was already using the same trick he had used on one of the bishops, trapping the bird monster in a sphere of vines and burying it deep underground.

Boom!

He clenched his fist and turned toward the manor house. After taking two steps, he looked back.

Strands of white foam emerged from the ground, reassembling into the sinister figure with tentacle-wrapped arms, but shorter. It was only about two point three meters now.

How troublesome!

Wayne wielded storms and flames, even using his tried-and-true wall-trapping techniques on his enemy, but nothing stopped the bird monster’s advance. Its flesh didn’t consist of the common four elements found in nature, and thus, ordinary magic struggled to inflict effective damage.

The bird monster held both arms horizontally, transforming them into white foam that took the shape of two gleaming knightly swords. The sharp blades cut through the air with a humming resonance.

Wayne paused. Hm, he could do something similar.

Squelch!

The knightly swords pierced through his chest. The bird monster cackled eerily and lifted him high into the air. The spiral hole in its face opened, revealing a cavity full of writhing tentacles, seemingly waiting to drink his blood to its heart’s content.

But there was not a single drop of blood.

Wayne’s eyes darkened. In the monster’s moment of confusion, he crossed his arms and waved. White flesh writhed as his fingers melted and merged into gleaming blades with metallic shine, slashing downward at the bird.

On his chest, the scar tore open his flesh, and a massive eye suddenly popped up.

“Muhaha—”