The Sorcerer's Handbook

Chapter 244: Killed Twice by the Wave spirit

Boom!

The Shepherd slammed into the wall like a rag doll. Ashe and the others did not let up for a second. The car surged forward at full speed, its wicked blades chewing relentlessly into the Shepherd’s armor. They dragged him along the wall for over ten meters, grinding the deep blue plating down to a pale, worn hue.

He looked like a filthy cloth pressed against a washboard, as the steel behemoth crushed and scraped away at the Star Archer’s[1] defenses with sheer brute force.

Even so, the Shepherd’s expression remained unchanged.

His left hand flicked, and the greatbow shrank into a compact shortbow. Bracing one foot against the wall, he forced out a sliver of leverage. His fingers pulled the string, shaping arrows of blue light, then he fired wildly at the front of the car.

The arrows fell like a storm of fine needles, dense and unrelenting, steadily draining the car’s durability. Demilo ignored the damage to himself, letting his armor shatter piece by piece, all to keep pouring fire into the steel behemoth.

Watching the car’s condition plummet, Ashe crouched beneath the seat and spoke in a low voice. ”The car’s about to blow. We go all in. Stick to the plan. Witch, keep control. I’ll take the rear. Swordswoman... It’s on you.”

Sonya tightened her grip on the sword. ”Then watch closely.”

She silently activated the Decade of Swordcraft Miracle. She had paid a fortune for the Ten Years spirit, saving it for moments like this when the Watcher was practically digging his own grave.

A faint orange glow spread across the blade. For the next minute, every swing of her sword would be razor-sharp, cutting through anything.

Now that only one enemy remained, the Scarlet Swordswoman felt no fear at all. True to her nature of preying on the weak and avoiding the strong, she focused completely, waiting for the perfect opening her teammates would create.

Suddenly, the car swerved and rammed sideways, as if trying to bury itself into the wall. The impact drove Demilo hard against the surface. The Shepherd was pinned in place, unable to move. He left a shallow, human-shaped dent in the wall. His armor had faded further, yet still covered him completely, leaving his movements unhindered as he continued to draw and fire.

The Witch leapt from the car and, using the ground for leverage, pulled the threads at the Shepherd’s waist with all her strength. ”Die!”

Together with the car’s spinning blades, the water-forged threads, sharp enough to sever gold and jade, strained with a high, whining cry, yet still failed to tear him apart. Instead, she exposed herself fully to Demilo’s line of sight.

He glanced at the sorceress with cold indifference, finding a fresh target for his bow and arrow.

Twang!

A clear, ringing note split the air as a streak of sword light lunged for his eyes. Wherever it passed, the light clung like dense ink on a canvas, as though the world itself were being repainted.

Miracle! Sword Painting!

It was a Miracle in name only. In truth, it was nothing more than a crude fusion of Swordheart and Sword Scar. In the Swordswoman’s own words, it was ”a chaotic stew made from unwashed mushrooms and a live, unbutchered chicken.” If anyone tried to patent it as a Miracle, the staff would beat them out the door.

Even so, Ashe could barely handle this crude combination in real combat, leaning heavily on the swordsmanship experience he shared with the Swordswoman. There was still room to improve in mana efficiency, technique integration, and destructive power. A better way to put it was that, at this stage, the Miracle could not have been any worse.

If the Sword Painting, in theory, possessed power comparable to a fighter jet, the current version was no more than a pilot trying to attack with a slingshot. But if the goal was simply to disrupt the enemy, this version was already more than sufficient.

With the lingering trails of sword light clouding his vision, Demilo had no choice but to tilt his head. As for the destructive power of the sword light itself, it didn’t even compare to the threads, so he ignored it entirely.

Ashe’s sudden appearance forced Demilo to once again shift his target. In his mind, this man now held the highest priority for elimination, above all others. No matter what happened next, the arrow’s trajectory would not waver.

Tap!

Just then, a graceful figure leapt from the car, dancing her sword through the air and slashing straight at Demilo.

Demilo had only a single layer of armor left, but he had never been one to care about his own life. Naturally, he paid no mind to the deadly strike rushing toward him.

He drew his short bow to its maximum tension, eyes locked solely on Ashe. From the corner of his vision, he caught a crimson wave of sword energy Sonya had released.

Long-dormant memories rippled through his mind, sending a tremor through his fragmented soul. Wave... The Wave spirit?

For the first time since opening his eyes in the Continent of Time, the steady, unfeeling, war-machine-like Hero faltered. That single moment of hesitation cost him his final chance to counterattack.

The Darklight Slash fell like a guillotine, shattering his last layer of armor and severing both his hands.

I, Demilo... have actually been killed twice by the Wave spirit.

Boom!

Sonya’s second Darklight Slash severed his head completely. The wave of energy even gouged six inches into the wall before dissipating.

The headless Hero collapsed onto the car’s hood, breaking apart into scattered points of light that slowly faded away.

Sonya stood atop the hood with her sword in hand. Ashe crouched behind the rear of the car, while Dia held her breath.

A few seconds later, Ashe stepped out and asked softly, ”Is it over?”

”It should be... over.”

The Scarlet Swordswoman jumped down from the hood. Souls did not experience fatigue, yet for some reason, she felt an urge to sit. Sliding along the car door, her hips touched the metal as if her strength had been drained completely.

Ashe, too, emerged from his prolonged state of calm. Nothing seemed unusual on the surface, yet deep exhaustion rose from within his soul. It felt like working overtime until midnight, then rushing for the last train, only to realize he’d forgotten his keys. Going back to retrieve them, he missed the train again, and, refusing to call a taxi out of stubbornness, he could only walk several kilometers home.

He shuffled weakly over to the Swordswoman and sank against the car door beside her. Their breaths fell into the same rhythm, deep and steady, as if their bodies were echoing each other’s exhaustion.

The Witch still seemed full of energy. ”Shouldn’t we collect the spoils first?”

She unconsciously traced the Aqua Line with her fingers, scratching playfully at the wall with a harsh, grating sound. Ignoring her nearly dirty hair and the strange four-part harmony in her voice, she looked surprisingly normal.

Ashe waved her over, pulling her down to sit beside him. ”Let’s rest first. We gave it everything this time, so... we should enjoy this moment of peace after victory.”

1. A reminder that the Star Shepherd had layered his armor from multiple Star Archers. ☜