The Grand Coven II
Through magik or alchemical engineering, the statue, once beheld by a naked eye, moved to the beat of the beholder's heart. Seducing them to the allure of magik and witchcraft themselves.
It was as if the dead High Priestesses had risen from their graves and were whispering sweet nothings to one's ears, leading them astray from God's light and into the dark depths of human sophistry.
It was magnificent, to say the least.
And, by god, Irwin was loving it. In fact, if his phone had not been destroyed during the fight, then his storage would have been full before they could even get to the main entrance of the castle proper.
The moment they did so, however, they were greeted by a retinue of a dozen witches, each of whom were externally emitting their magical power. The scones illuminating the courtyard of the castle flickered under their collective might.
Irwin once thought that doing so would be like emitting a colorful aura, like those old anime he used to watch as a kid.
But once he actually did it, it was more like an invisible pressure that can only be felt by those who also have their own magic power. Normal people can't even feel it. They just think of it as a gust of wind or some sixth sense bullshit.
The moment Irwin felt their collective energy suppressing his own energy, a chuckle escaped out of him. Although it was enough to force his knee to bend and groan, he couldn't help but compare the disparity between their collective pressure to that of Dagon's apathetic suppression.
He tried to let them go, but they just only made it harder to take a step. With an exasperated sigh, Irwin's eyes glowed purple as his mouth opened to speak a single word.
"Kneel."
It was as if the world wanted to obey Irwin's order for the very air turned heavier than the mountain they were standing upon. One by one, the witches in front of Irwin fell from their high horses and kneeled in front of him, smashing their knees on the ground with a very audible CRACK!
He hid his trembling lips underneath his vicious smirk as he walked past the kneeling witches and opened the large door to the castle, followed by a trio of gods and immortals.
"What the hell was that?" Whispered Thrudgelmir, barely hiding the curiosity in his voice.
Irwin's smirk turned brighter, gently wiping away the sweat on his forehead. "Nothing much. Just wanted to show them what a witch truly looks like."
It was, in fact, something. In truth, that was the effect of the newest sub-effect of his Human Magik, Command.
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Command (Sub-effect #1) - At the cost of 25% of the caster's Magical Reserve, the caster can utter a word that any creature within 30 meters will have to obey. Any creature within the sub-effect range has an initial chance to resist the command based on the target's magical power and will versus that of the caster's magical energy and proficiency in Human Magik.
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Although it was quite costly, the sub-effect was relatively more powerful than Unarmed Combat's unnamed sub-effect and Flaming Whip's Brimstone Blow. After all, his magical energy was, surprisingly, thoroughly enhanced by the Enhance Physique system skill.
He had first noticed it when it advanced to the third level. How he was less exhausted whenever he used spells and how it did not drain his whole reserves when he did test practice of Brimstone Blow.
Now that he was on the fourth level, he felt as if every bit of magical energy swirling within his essence was brand-spanking-new. It was more robust, healthier, and smoother than the last version of his energy.
"Oh, look at this freak. You're getting cocky." Hilde, however, had his back as he checked his ego with a snarky remark and slap on the small of his back.
"Ow, that hurts."
"Are you so weak as to be hurt by a woman?"
Hephaestus grumbled as the three continued arguing, but had had enough when they stopped mid-way down the stairs when Thrudgelmir suddenly launched himself upon Irwin.
"Enough." He ordered. It was a single word and had but a simple effect, halting whatever Brunhilde and Thrudgelmir were doing and getting their undivided attention.
"Be on your best behavior." Just as Irwin was about to gloat over Thrudgelmir, Hephaestus gave him a glare. "You too. You are in their domain. Best be careful."
"Of course." Irwin replied, fixing his clothes that had been tousled by the giant's lanky arm.
The moment Irwin peaked the stairs, a grandeur never had he seen before was revealed before his eyes.
A large gilded table bedecked with roasted pheasant and a hundred different side dishes. The chandelier, twinkling up above the oaken sky, hung its luxurious crystal candlesticks without so much as a tether to the ceiling.
A dozen or so servants roam around the vast chamber, hurriedly but gracefully setting plates and other accoutrement that the dinner guests might need for the night.
It was a splendor only the finest could afford, yet, underneath the grandeur and nobility, was a speck of dissolution running amok on the expression of the servants. Even the guards, clad in shining armor and waving their silken coats-of-arm, were marked, albeit barely observable, by disinterest, as if they were merely doing their job and nothing else.
Of course, that in itself was not wrong, but the fact that they serve witches of high renown meant that something was amiss. If he were to believe the tales of Lady Anastasia and what he saw on television, then these servants and guards needed to be enchanted and to believe that they must fulfill their duty with grace and honor.
He quickly hid the nervous chuckle arising from his mouth with a clearing of his throat, asking for a glass of water as they waited for the owner's the castle to appear before them.
They did not have to wait long, however, as three witches of greater magical intent revealed themselves once the double door to their left opened ceremoniously.
All servants and guards bowed to their presence, their eyes, Irwin noticed, flickering with a dim illumination. It seems he was wrong regarding the status of their enchantment.
It was Hephaestus who stood first, greeting them with a simple. "Good evening."
Thrudgelmir then came next, his form reducing a few inches. "Pleasure to be here."
Finally, Brunhilde stood from her seat, eyes the color of danger. "Pray tell… why have you invited us?"
It was the most familiar person in the room, at least according to Irwin's memories, that answered.
"Of course to reward you for your decades of service to our cause and to," Olivette, noticeably younger, gazed at Irwin with a curious smile. "Meet our new guest."
The other two witches by her side looked at Irwin with a predatory smile. After all, it was unusual for a male species of the human race to acquire an innate magical prowess, more so to be casually performing feats of magik.
Irwin knew of the danger he was in, but also knew that he had allies as strong and stronger than him within this castle, as such, he bowed his head in deference to their 'power disparity'.
"Greetings, High Priestess Olivette. Grand Witch Katja and forgive me if I do not know your name, Grand Witch." His words brought a surprise expression on both sides of the factions. "I am Irwin Bellios, student of the Greythorne Druid and former member of your esteemed organization, Lady Anastasia."
His next sentence, however, brought undue scrutiny and an explosion of gasps and murmurs from within every bit of the castle. It turns out that every witch stationed within the castle was listening to every bit of their conversation.
From their expressions, Irwin could muster a guess that Lady Anastasia was quite a symbol of power within the Grand Coven, having known her to be a mysterious entity powerful enough to devise her own spells on behalf of Fairy Magik.
"Lies!" accused the Grand Witch, whose name Irwin did not know of. "Lady Anastasia could never teach an outsider of our spells! Lies, I say!"
While she was right that Lady Anastasia would never do so, the fact was that he that he had to bribe her with Ereshkigal's amulet, knowledge of the future, and the fact that he was inhabiting his nephew's body so that she could teach him the basics of magik.
"My master would be so displeased if this was how low the Coven had gotten." He taunted, invigorating his magical energy within his body.
"What do you mean by that, boy?" The cannibalistic Katja asked. Her chubby and grandmotherly appearance almost fooled Irwin, if not for the extremely sinister memories he had of her.
"My master was extremely displeased when she noticed how your little group reformed under the name of the Grand Coven... When we all know that, you're nothing but a shadow of your past glory." He said, lying through his teeth. Lady Anastasia barely recognizes the authority of the real Grand Coven, much less this one.
The expression on each witch turned ugly, as if a switch had been flipped inside of them. Although they had great respect for the Greythorne Druid, they held the Grand Coven' authority to a greater degree.
"Let me handle this fool, Olivette." Katja growled, showing off her canine teeth.
Olivette merely stood there with a deadpan expression, pride overtaking her rational sense as she approved of Katja's words.
"What are you doing, Irwin?" Hephaestus asked in a low tone.
Irwin looked back and noticed how battle-ready the three were. "Protecting my master's pride. Frankly, I would not begrudge such childish antics, but to think that you would degrade the coven that made my master the witch that she is… it disgusts me."
"Alright. Just don't make too much of a mess." Hephaestus sighed, a gleam in his eyes showed that he understood the meaning behind his words.
Olivette snapped her fingers, startling Irwin, for he never knew how deeply enchanted the servants were as they straightened their backs and walked down the stairs in a straight line.
"I would not normally allow such… uncouth behavior from my kin, especially those of our guest." Her eyes sparkling with an undisguised mirth and frustration. "Yet, I find myself intrigued by your words, man witch. Follow me to the courtyard where we shall have our duel."
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