novelraw Book 2: Chapter 25: Princess Carry
Book 2: Chapter 25: Princess Carry
The moment the drunken fat man turned his face, he saw Fischer and was about to show a lecherous grin, but suddenly his expression changed drastically, turning extremely pale, as if he had seen something unbelievable.
“Mo... Mother Goddess’s blessing... You bear the blessing of the Mother Goddess!”
Fischer frowned, momentarily unable to grasp the meaning behind the man’s words. Was there something special about him?
His first thought was the Demi-Human Girl Completion Handbook, but this mysterious item seemed to have no connection whatsoever to the “blessing of the Mother Goddess” mentioned by the man...
However, the situation on the spot didn’t allow Fischer to ponder further because the man was already staring at him with a crazed obsession, as if he wanted to devour him.
“Impossible! Impossible! You are a man! How could you possibly have the Mother Goddess’s blessing! Tell me! How did you do it!! Speak now!!”
The man suddenly lunged at Fischer with both hands raised, but before Fischer could act, Arajina behind him firmly grabbed the man’s shoulder. With a strong body weight, she swung the fat man in a perfect arc and threw him behind her.
“Dottie One, you can go back now.”
“Chirp chirp!”
The mouse hiding behind the table breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Fischer’s words. After saluting him, it quickly scurried away on all fours. Fischer closed the tavern door, gave a meaningful glance to the trembling tavern owner behind, signaling him to leave quickly as well, then swiftly climbed out through the rear window.“Get lost! You manly woman!”
“Arajina, watch out!”
The man who had been thrown to the ground ignored Arajina’s warning. His obese body suddenly flipped over, pushing Arajina aside, then recklessly charged at Fischer.
Fischer’s eyes narrowed sharply. He immediately held his staff horizontally in front of him to block the fat man’s deadly body slam. The powerful physique of the Dragonkin only caused the man’s steps to retreat slightly, while Fischer’s staff firmly pressed against the man’s meat-covered face.
“Won’t talk? Why won’t you talk? The Mother Goddess’s blessing should be shared selflessly with others, you damn selfish fool! Let me, the Witch Research Society’s Witch Bart, teach you what sharing means!”
“I don’t have the Mother Goddess’s grace. Have you been hitting the bottle too much?”
“Impossible! Too obvious! You still want to lie to me?”
The fat man gritted his teeth fiercely, and his entire magic circuit began to light up. Just as Fischer had guessed, this man was a Manufactured Witch from the Witch Research Society. Layers of dark purple, massive magical circuits lit up on his body, but parts of the shapes and colors still resembled a human’s. The entire magic circuit looked oddly mixed.
According to the theory of magic circuit soul origins, this man must have used some technique to transform a human soul toward the nature of a witch, but Fischer didn’t yet understand the specifics.
The moment the man’s magic circuits lit up, everyone present felt the surrounding gravity increase many times over. Fischer frowned, feeling his normally light clothes suddenly pull him downward. Soon, he left two deep footprints in the wooden floor.
Looking around, Arajina and the pirates beside her were experiencing the same effect.
In front of him, Bart laughed loudly. His fat body became incredibly light, floating as if weightless. He raised his fists, ready to attack Fischer at any moment.
The witch’s attribute—reverse gravity.
Within the influence of the witch’s attribute, gravity applies an opposite force on mass: the heavier something is, the lighter it feels; the lighter something is, the heavier it becomes.
Could a Manufactured Witch even mimic the witch’s attribute?
The nearby pirates and other customers were all flat on the floor, about to sink into it at any moment. Fischer felt as if his clothes and staff weighed a thousand pounds; even his belt on his pants was stretched tight, almost tearing as it held his hips.
He gritted his teeth and released the heavy staff, which instantly pierced the ground like a spike. He raised his hand to block Bart’s heavy blow aimed at his head.
“Bang!”
A tremendous force knocked Fischer back several steps, but Bart wildly swung his limbs without restraint, launching a furious assault.
Just as the next punch was about to hit Fischer’s forehead, a chilling coldness suddenly swept through everyone’s hearts.
Bart’s heart shivered, and he hastily withdrew his fist. The next moment, a sharp vertical ice wall appeared in front of him, separating him from Fischer. Had he not withdrawn, his wrist would have been sliced off by the ice.
Turning to look, Arajina’s face was cold, and she held a slender sword that emitted a cold gleam. The sword was plunged into the ground, and an icy aura spread from the earth to the front of the ice wall.
Bart’s mouth opened. His drunkenness had mostly worn off, and only now did he recognize the tomboy before him as the Iceberg Queen, one of the Four Great Pirates.
The reason was simple: the slender sword in her hand was the hereditary relic of the Sarding Matriarchy’s vassal lord Clarr, the Ice Prince. This weapon could create solid ice out of thin air and emitted endless cold energy, making it the Iceberg Queen’s most iconic item.
“The Four Great Pirates and a bearer of the Mother Goddess’s blessing... What kind of damn luck am I having today...”
Bart’s expression turned grave as he coldly stared at Arajina behind him.
Arajina’s clothes were also greatly weighed down by the witch’s attribute, but the Ice Prince in her hand was exceptionally light. She remained still, but her fingers nimbly wielded the slender sword, slashing at Bart as he hovered in midair.
Countless ice slashes struck Bart furiously. Due to his attribute, the slashes came at high speed, making it difficult for him to dodge. Fischer seized the opportunity, grabbing Bart’s legs to immobilize him. The frozen slashes struck the restrained Bart, causing him to let out a miserable scream.
Seeing Bart stiffen from the slashes, Fischer flicked his fingers lightly, producing a crisp snap. The staff embedded in the ground immediately glowed, and a swarm of dense buzzing sounds like bees filled the small tavern.
This was Fischer’s Dance of the Bees. Milky white rotating blades struck Bart from behind. With ice slashes in front and Dance of the Bees behind, the fat witch was assaulted relentlessly in midair, blood mist bursting from his injuries.
But whether due to the Manufactured Witch’s body structure or his excessive fat, even as blood flowed continuously, he could still keep moving after taking hit after hit.
“Ahhhh, get lost!”
Roaring with rage, he raised his ring finger, which began to glow with magical light.
Fourth-circle magic—Glorious Blade!
The Glorious Blade became an invisible cutting blade rotating around him, severing the milky Dance of the Bees and the ice slashes. The powerful magic, empowered by the witch’s vast magic power, did not stop after breaking through both attacks and instead charged toward Arajina in front.
Just as she was unable to move and unable to dodge, the space before her distorted. The Glorious Blade shifted from its original path, flying along the tavern floor and smashing into the roof of the dark cave outside.
Seventh-circle magic—Spatial Refraction.
Fischer gripped the staff embedded in the ground, shielding Arajina who stood still.
“Damn it, you dare touch our captain!”
The fat first mate lying on the ground watched the scene with reddened eyes. Biting off a sleeve from his clothes, he tore it apart, bared his chest, and grabbed a musket on his waist, firing several shots at the fat man.
“Bang! Bang!”
Blood mist exploded from Bart’s body several times. His bright magic circuit flickered, showing signs of imminent collapse. He glanced unwillingly at Fischer standing firm, the Mother Goddess’s blessing within reach, but he knew clearly he was no match against the combined strength of these people.
He had to escape and take this information back to the Witch Research Society!
Bart gritted his teeth. Just as the witch attribute was about to end, a deep purple magic suddenly flared in his hand and aimed at the ground.
Fifth-circle magic—Explosion.
Fischer had just looked up and saw the purple magic ignite. He cursed inwardly, realizing he was too late to move. The magic spread immediately, and intense heat and shockwaves surged through the air toward him. There was no time. Fischer barely managed to raise his hands to shield his face but suddenly felt himself wrapped in something cold.
Along with a soft embrace, his body was lifted and carried away from the explosion.
“Boom!”
When the thick smoke cleared, Fischer coughed and looked up, finding himself in a very awkward position.
In front of him stood expressionless Arajina, panting as she held his body, suspending him in midair and protecting him in her arms. After lowering her head to confirm he was unharmed, she hurriedly put him down with some panic.
“S-sorry...”
“....”
Fischer’s eyes instantly turned deadpan. When he was on the Southern Continent, he had carried Raphaëlle like this. Now returning to the Western Continent, karmic retribution struck—he was being carried in the arms of the Iceberg Queen.
Silently, he stepped back a little from Arajina. Both were awkward and didn’t mention the incident again. To ease the tension, Arajina glanced toward the thick smoke from the recent explosion, where the Manufactured Witch was fleeing.
“He... is running...”
“It’s fine. He can’t get away.”
Fischer smiled confidently. His staff was still planted in the ground. He snapped his fingers toward Bart’s fleeing direction, and the runes on the staff lit up in layers. From the void, countless shimmering threads extended invisibly, wrapping Bart tightly as he fled.
“Damn it! It’s the Spinner! Just wait! The Witch Research Society will make you pay... ugh!”
Bart screamed miserably but was bound tighter and tighter by the invisible threads until he was cocooned in a huge chrysalis and slammed heavily onto the ground. He looked back with unwilling eyes but was stopped by Fischer’s foot pressing on his head, silencing his protests.
Fischer’s expression was cold. He glanced at the chaotic surroundings, knowing that many gang members would soon arrive. This tavern was backed by powerful gangs.
He lifted his staff and struck Bart’s head once more. After the loud screams subsided, Fischer dragged the now unconscious Bart toward Arajina and her companions beside him.
“This is no place to talk. Follow me.”