Chapter Six: Battle of the Magicians

During the first unequal treaty signing, Wayne was a little nervous. He hastily flipped through the Book of Greed, eager to see who the lucky unfortunate was.

The result was not very good. The contract partner was not just not a living person; it wasn't even a person at all.

It was a dog!

At the moment the contract was signed, a table of contents appeared on the second page. Opening the page where the spirit of revenge resided, the first member and servant revealed themselves.

A half-rotted evil dog, with gums exposed, one eye grayish-white, the other side just a black socket, ribs exposed, the abdominal cavity devoid of any organs.

The remaining black fur stuck to decaying muscles, oozing black-yellow unidentified liquid like glue. Through joint efforts, they barely managed to stick this decrepit body together.

It was a nauseating sight. Even though it was just an image, Wayne could smell the disgusting stench.

"Yue~~~"

He retched twice, almost vomiting in the car.

"Buddy, if you dare to vomit in my car, I'll throw you out."

The taxi driver was very dissatisfied. The car was his lover, and he didn't allow anyone to mess it up.

"It's not my fault. Your car smells too strong," Wayne retorted immediately, blaming the taxi driver's lover for the strong odor.

The interlude ended, and Wayne continued to flip through the page where the spirit of revenge resided, receiving both good and bad news.

The spirit of revenge was a dependent. Strictly speaking, the moment the opponent became the spirit of revenge, they were no longer a grudge spirit but a magical life transformed by the Book of Greed.

As Wayne's dependent, servant, and summon, all actions depended on Wayne's magic, and only Wayne's magic could sustain them.

Wayne had no magic; he could open the Book of Greed and sign the first dependent solely thanks to the magic William had applied to him.

Therefore, he couldn't summon the dependent and command it.

If the dependent didn't receive the owner's magic for a long time, it would fall into madness due to hunger until it completely disappeared.

At this moment, the spirit of revenge had two choices.

First, to devour the master and gain freedom, wandering in the black night fog to become a new urban legend.

Second, to wait in place for extinction, offering the most sincere curse to the master before dying.

Seeing this, Wayne felt a chill, afraid that the dependent would visit him in his dreams in the middle of the night.

He comforted himself that dogs are loyal, the best friends of humans, what bad intentions could a dog have? It was absolutely impossible for the dependent to devour its master.

The good news was that the contract and sacrifice had some similar effects. Wayne gained some abilities from the dependent, two in total, namely, smell and supernatural intuition.

There was nothing much to say about smell; dogs were best at this. Supernatural intuition was also easy to understand. In humans, it's called the sixth sense, while in dogs, it's called animal instinct.

These two abilities didn't need magic to be used. The moment they were obtained, they instinctively became a part of Wayne's habits. If he used magic, he could enhance the coverage and intensity of these two abilities.

Unfortunately, he couldn't use them because he had no magic.

Why did it turn out like this...

The first time he opened the Book of Greed, signed a dependent, and became extraordinary, two happy events coincided. And these two joys brought him even more happiness. What he got should have been a time of happiness like a dream...

But why did it turn out like this...

Why were they all auxiliary skills, without any attack skills?

Until dusk, until the taxi arrived at the warehouse district, Wayne was still blaming himself.

As a newbie, weak and helpless, he looked at the warehouse clusters, feeling they were like ferocious beasts lurking on the land. Once he stepped into them, he would be torn to pieces.

The stronghold of the Death Cultists was at F-66, at least a twenty-minute walk away. Was it still possible to learn magic now?

Wayne's face was pale. Under his speechless gaze, Veronica took the lead, taking a detour to the rear of Warehouse F-66.

Dividing into two steps, front and back encirclement, this was the rhythm of being caught in one go!

"Wayne, I admire your courage and your determination to fight against the dark forces, even though you're scared to death, you still followed." William saluted with two fingers raised and dragged Wayne forward with his other hand.

"The anthem of humanity is the anthem of courage. For justice, I am willing to contribute my humble strength," Wayne said weakly. He followed because he was afraid of missing Veronica and William. He didn't know when he would encounter another magician, definitely not out of courage and faith.

"Don't panic, Veronica is very strong, and with me here, you'll be fine."

Hope there won't be any casualties!

William might be a gay guy, but he had a strong ability to reshape himself towards the same sex. His strong physique also provided a lot of security. With him around, Wayne felt much more at ease.

And William was right; Veronica was indeed very powerful. That cute face, that petite figure, easily reaching a nine-digit figure after sleep. If something unexpected happened, Veronica alone could attract all the firepower from the opposite side.

The time came to 6 p.m. As the sun completely disappeared below the horizon, the warehouse district lit up with sporadic lighting.

The fog followed suit, gentle and veiling the entire city of Lundan.

Wayne had just obtained supernatural intuition when he felt a sense of foreboding rising with the thin mist. His intuition told him that the night in Lundan was indeed very dangerous, and the solution was to hurry home and wrap himself in a blanket on his bed.

However, the way home shrouded in fog was fraught with danger, and he dared not walk alone at night. He chose to stay by William's side.

"The smell of death... a barrier, it's here..."

William, from a distance, looked at Warehouse F-66 and took out a black hooded cloak from his bag, covering his tall figure.

Thinking for a moment, he took out another one and handed it to Wayne, Veronica's black robe. Wayne wore it, but it didn't fit him well.

"Stay behind me, if a fight breaks out, just stay aside..."

Taking advantage of the darkness and mist, William calmly entered the barrier, a sparsely ordinary sensory barrier with low specificity, only serving as an early warning, indicating that the strength of the Death Cultists gathered in the warehouse was average and not threatening.

William easily bypassed the sensing barrier, but Wayne couldn't. His strong smell of death was detected by the barrier and judged him as one of their own, unable to trigger an alarm, without the need to conceal.

Wayne remembered that the barrier could give him magic power. Since it was magic, the Book of Greed could swallow William's magic, surely it could also swallow the magic barrier of the Death Cultists. If he signed the contract for the second time, he might be able to find an excellent dependent servant.

One with attack skills.

But it didn't happen. The Book of Greed successfully opened, broadening his horizon. He wouldn't just take anything. In the future, if Wayne wanted to control this book, he could only use his own magic.

The problem went back to square one: Wayne had no magic!

At this moment, Wayne had an unprecedented desire to become a magician.

At the entrance of the warehouse, William pressed his ear to the door, showing a mix of courage and meticulousness, or simply a lack of experience in infiltration.

Wayne frowned as he watched. He was a novice and weak, without the right to speak. He could only think that this was how magicians operated, so crudely.

Moments later, William heard the murmuring of prayers, confirming that the cultists were collectively praising the goddess of death. He pushed open the warehouse door cautiously and slipped in, crouching low.

A wave of hands.jpg

Wayne stared at the swinging hand, wanting to comment but afraid of disrupting the ritual order. He glanced at the fog-shrouded warehouse district, feeling that ghosts were everywhere. With no other choice, he imitated and sneaked in.

William politely closed the door, mumbling some incomprehensible words, and confidently joined the cultists' collective singing.

...

In the center of the warehouse, about twenty people gathered, all wearing hooded black robes.

They stood in a circle around a pattern made of candles, their fists crossed over their chests. The dim candlelight failed to elongate their shadows, and their half-exposed faces flickered in the uncertain light, combined with the eerie chanting, making Wayne feel particularly uncomfortable.

Judging by their style, the death cultists were obviously not good people.

As Wayne passed by a shelf, he picked up a pry bar and held it in his hand. He hummed and pretended to pray, pretending to join the prayer camp.

The cultists were too focused, not noticing the two strangers among them.

Wayne pretended to praise the goddess while looking at the candle pattern, a familiar inverted triangle, not complicated at all.

There was no blood, no sacrifice, no scenes of dissecting innocent girls.

As the cultists devoutly prayed, death responded to them. The candlelight shifted to darkness, and the inverted triangle symbol momentarily turned black. Eight tentacles spread out from both sides, pointing towards the warehouse ceiling and wriggling disorderly.

Wayne was entranced, and in a daze, he seemed to hear something. A low voice whispered gently, asking him if he would offer everything without reservation.

Wait a minute, why did the voice of the goddess of death sound so manly?

Wayne was puzzled. Could it be that the goddess of death was a male? Did she choose to crossdress as a better way to harvest crops?

Wayne's mind wandered off on a tangent, and the whisper in his ear abruptly stopped. He woke up from his daze, realizing that the cultists had stopped praying and were all looking at him.

In an instant, he became the focus of the crowd, and Wayne couldn't help but swallow his saliva.

With the dim environment and the cultists blocking most of their faces, Wayne couldn't see their expressions clearly. He could only guess at the fierce faces and angry eyes.

To his surprise, William, with a toothy grin, joined the cultists, shouting and retreating behind the others.

You promised to protect me!

"Intruder, this is not where you should be," a person stepped out from the crowd, probably the leader. He waved his hand, signaling his companions to press Wayne down.

Probably smelling the death aura on Wayne, he grinned and threatened to let Wayne receive the blessing of the goddess tonight and completely become one of them.

Stop it, your goddess is so manly in voice!

Wayne stepped back repeatedly, holding the pry bar in front of his chest. Seeing the cultists, all twenty of them, wielding steel pipes and charging at him, Wayne's courage doubled.

Recalling his earlier words, the pry bar was indeed a man's best friend.

Then Wayne saw the cultists picking up steel pipes from the shelves one after another, and twenty people rushed at Veronica with their pipes.

Wayne sweated profusely and dryly said, "It's not such a big deal, it doesn't have to escalate into a collective brawl. How about... using our fists? We might avoid a few years in jail."

Bang!!

The high window at the end of the warehouse shattered, and a slender figure leaped in, sprinting at a speed of a hundred meters to the warehouse center.

It was Veronica. She didn't disappoint Wayne's efforts to create an opportunity. Taking advantage of the cultists' distance from the candle pattern, she fiercely smashed a glass jar at the center of the inverted triangle.

After the crisp sound of shattering, a green mist surged up, and lush greenery grew rapidly, disrupting the rhythm of death, causing all eight tentacles to wilt and droop.

"Darn it, it's the minions of nature!"

"Capture the heretic, she ruined the sacred ritual, she must pay the price."

The leader was furious, and the cultists shouted and changed their targets, waving their steel pipes and charging at Veronica.

At this moment, the lights in the warehouse suddenly turned on, and William found the switch on the wall.

Veronica squinted, facing twenty strong men charging at her with steel pipes, she calmly opened her small bag and held a delicate and small pistol in her hand.

"Don't move, one move and I'll shoot."

The cultists stopped, their movements uniform. At William's shout, they cursed and grumbled, dropping their steel pipes and standing against the wall in a row.

Wayne: "..."

Is that it?

Is this the cruel struggle of faith? Is this the battle of magicians?

A bunch of cowards, you're all followers of the goddess of death, aren't you? Face death fearlessly, why are you so afraid of death?

Just ordinary passersby. That pistol has at most ten bullets. There are twenty of you, just attack together. She can't win!

Pure cannon fodder, that pistol has at most ten bullets. There are twenty of you. Attack together, she can't win!