The mont she said this, she vanished from in front of the exploding green "nuclear blast," and Ian felt a sudden chill rush to the top of his head.
"Slap!"
In the blink of an eye, before he could react, she appeared directly in front of him. He couldn't dodge in ti, colliding with sothing soft, and imdiately falling from the air. His magic cloak lost its effect, though thankfully, his rear didn't shatter into pieces.
"Do not resist."
The voice appeared suddenly right by his ear.
Ian could feel her icy breath.
He raised his head and saw that the woman was now within arm's reach.
She was close enough for him to count her eyelashes.
She lifted her hand and pointed a finger at his forehead. He felt a terrifying force slam into him, a power like a surging tide, ready to overwhelm him completely.
Before this force, Ian felt as if the entire world consisted of nothing but that single finger.
"Blazing Path!"
Ian's mind jolted. Gritting his teeth, he released magic again without hesitation.
The tip of his wand burst with blinding light.
In an instant, an endless sea of flas surged outward from Ian. These flas were not the usual crimson or orange, but pure gold, like the sun at noon.
The entire world seed bathed in this golden radiance.
Clearly, Ian's flas incorporated the structure of an ancient Greek divine invocation. At the mont the flas ford, the temperature of the entire Black Forest skyrocketed.
The newly reborn twisted plants turned to ash before his eyes. Carried by scorching heat, the golden waves of fire surged forward like a roaring beast toward the berserk woman.
"Sun Divine Fire?"
The woman was engulfed by the flas. Although the fire did not harm her, it halted her movents. Her cold, perfect face was filled with shock.
Her powerful aura briefly fluctuated under the impact of the heat. It was unclear whether this was due to the fire's influence or because she realized the strength contained within Ian's flas.
At that mont, a shadow shot up from the sea of fire.
Ian had activated his Animagus form and was now soaring into the sky. The mont the transformation was complete, he felt all restraints lt away like snow under the sun.
"Heh heh heh!"
Ian's flight suddenly paused as if he had made a decision. He reversed direction like an arrow leaving a bowstring, diving straight toward the woman's face.
He still adhered to the moral principle of 'hitting but not striking the face'.
So, Ian aid directly for the top of her head.
It was a gesture of his generosity.
However,
"Damn it! Get away!"
The woman didn't seem to appreciate it. The once elegant woman had lost all composure. She stumbled in a panic while frantically trying to ward him off.
Her movents were clumsy.
Her flustered escape even tilted her crown. She ran, and he pursued. She couldn't fly without wings. The crow's sharp beak struck her head with precision.
It didn't spare her forehead, either. The crow twisted skillfully and left another sharp peck on her earlobe, drawing a drop of silver blood this ti.
The raven swallowed it whole.
Then, it shot into the sky. Its wings stirred the burning, golden ashes. Riding the thick smoke and swirling fog, it vanished into the heavy clouds above in the blink of an eye.
The woman collapsed to the ground.
Her elegance, nobility, and divinity vanished, replaced by a grimace of pain and bumps on her head. Her face was full of exasperation and frustration.
"Devourer of gods! That filthy divh!"
She bared her teeth and shouted, her tone carrying helplessness and irritation as if she had been rcilessly toyed with. She stood up in frustration and stamped her feet ineffectively.
While she ranted and cursed,
On the other side, Ian had already pierced the clouds and was flying through the Twilight Zone. He crossed one gathering of the deceased after another and headed toward his familiar ancient castle.
Ian didn't understand exactly what was happening. After transforming, it felt as if he had "built-in navigation," knowing exactly how to fly to reach his destination.
The wind roared past his ears as he flapped his wings with all his might. Soon, he saw the ancient castle in the distance. Even under the dim light, the towering structure looked gloomy.
However, Ian felt at ho.
He landed in the open space in front of the castle and reverted to human form.
Not far away, a Dragon lay sprawled out. Its massive body resembled a small mountain, and its scales glinted coldly in the faint light. Its snores rumbled like thunder.
"Long ti no see, big guy." Ian patted the dragon's skin. The dragon, still snoring, puffed out a gentle breath in response.
Pushing open the heavy doors, Ian entered the castle. The hall was dimly lit, with torches flickering along the walls. He saw Morgan leaning on a bench at the dining table, her back to him.
Floating before the wicked woman was a golden disc.
Ian approached slowly. To his surprise, the disc displayed footage of his confrontation with the woman in the Black Forest, every detail crystal clear.
"Teacher, have you been spying all along?" His tone was still tinged with annoyance, though aid only at the woman he had faced in the Black Forest.
"Shouldn't I be calling you teacher?" Morgan didn't turn around, seemingly aware of Ian's arrival. She lightly brushed the edge of the golden disc, and the scene shifted to the ruins of an ancient Greek temple.
"You've got so skill now, and you no longer provoke other wizards." Morgan sighed. Although her tone sounded admiring, Ian could tell it was dripping with sarcasm.
He had the discernnt to notice that.
"Who was I facing?" Ian asked, convinced that Morgan knew the truth. This wicked witch seed to harbor many secrets, even more mysterious than rlin.
"Who else could it be?"
Morgan replied with a chuckle.
"Congratulations. As a wizard, you've successfully provoked the God of Witchcraft and the Goddess of Witches, Circe." Morgan's eyes held a teasing glint as she spoke.
She loved seeing Ian's shocked, dumbfounded expression.
"Guh~"
Despite his ntal preparation, Ian couldn't help but swallow hard. From her terrifying aura, he realized he might be facing a dead god. Then, Ian suddenly rembered the old witch and quickly asked Morgan about her.
"There's also an old witch. She's a god, too, right? I felt pretty strained fighting her." Ian was confident in his strength, so he figured that anyone he couldn't defeat must be a god.
"A god?"
Morgan laughed at Ian's speculation, as if she'd heard a particularly good joke. She laughed heartily, unconcerned with her image, and even patted the long table with her hand.
"..."
Ian was completely baffled.
After she had laughed her fill, the wicked witch Morgan finally answered him.
"You couldn't defeat your senior sister, or rather, you couldn't beat your master's granddaughter, and yet you tried to help her. That's the funniest thing I've heard in ages!"
Morgan laughed until her stomach hurt.
Her chest muscles twitched with every laugh.
(End of chapter.)
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