The Cornflower Witch

Book 3: Chapter 96: The Night Dream Tea Party’s Witch

A few minutes later, she arrived at the Gem School’s exhibition hall, then followed staff directions to the rooftop outside the hall. This area was behind the audience seats and could dock airships or flying beasts, but right now two groups had gathered there, watching the raised platform with a veil in the middle.

It wasn’t just her, most of the chiefs who had gotten the message had rushed over as well, and their faces were grave. The one presiding over the duel was Norez.

“If some conflicts can’t be negotiated, then they must be settled by contest, but today is the Silver Bell Festival. I don’t want any casualties.” After saying this, he glared at the Tetis College student preparing to take the stage.

The disheveled student flinched, frightened. After all, Norez’s strength was absolutely crushing to him. Even if thirty of him were tied together, they might not beat this strongest chief.

“Yes, I understand, Chief.” He answered with a drooping head, then climbed onto the platform.

People from the Hidden Grove Alliance watching across the way gathered to discuss.

“How arrogant,” one muttered. “He says he doesn’t want anyone hurt, as if he has to be careful not to maim us. So presumptuous.”

“Indeed. Even if the Mage Alliance is powerful, a single mage on their own isn’t that impressive.”

Sylutia walked closer to the Tetis College side and listened as they explained what had started the incident.

It turned out both parties had their eyes on a special gem the Gem School was selling, hoping to secure it as a material for future advancement. The Hidden Grove Alliance’s student insisted they arrived first, while the Tetis College student claimed to have offered the higher price, so it should belong to them.At first it seemed trivial, but then emotions flared. Their quarrel inevitably dragged in the reputations of their respective sects. At that point, even if one side wanted to back down, they couldn’t—yielding would shame their whole school.

When neither side would relent, they decided the dispute by duel.

After hearing it, Sylutia felt speechless. No wonder Norez’s face looked so displeased; causing a conflict over something so petty really embarrassed the organizers.

Still, one couldn’t simply give in, since they represented the Mage Alliance’s top college. The result had to be settled by contest.

Curious which faction from the Hidden Grove Alliance had stirred the quarrel, Sylutia looked up.

A bare-chested youth stepped forward, hoisting a long tusk-shaped blade on his shoulder. A blood-red wolf-shaped tattoo covered his back, and with each breath the tattoo seemed to come alive, exuding a faint aura of menace.

This should be the Wildfire Sect within the Hidden Grove Alliance, Sylutia realized.

The Wildfire Sect originated from the shamans of the wilder regions. Their conduct and methods were violent; they often clashed with other alliance members, though rules kept them from going too far.

“Go teach them a lesson, Shaven!” someone from the Hidden Grove Alliance shouted encouragement.

“I know. Annoying as hell.” He muttered, frowning, tightened his grip on the greatsword on his shoulder, then fixed his gaze on the opposing mage.

When both sides were ready, Norez standing at head of the table announced the start.

The youth called Shaven moved instantly. His form dashed forward like a nimble beast. The greatsword looked heavy, but he wielded it with surprising ease. The rough blade sliced through the air, producing a keening sound.

The Tetis College student facing him didn’t idle either. He swung his staff; the special opals embedded along it lit up, then an invisible force field spread like mist toward his opponent.

Shaven plowed into the mist. The gravity beneath his feet warped, and in that strange environment his footwork distorted. His body lurched to the side, then took a few uneven steps before regaining balance. That delay allowed his opponent to create distance again.

“Annoying.” Shaven inhaled deeply, tightened his hand on the blade, then opened his mouth and released a savage roar.

Tiger Howl Sonic Wave (Bloodline). Using the Bloodline’s power to briefly expand chest and lungs, it erupts into a tremoring blood-vibration sonic wave. It can shatter the hearts of weaker creatures and break through parts of weak spells.

Spells likewise require Aspect energy as support. Within the violent sonic surge driven by that Bloodline, the force-field the mage had produced was instantly destroyed. The fierce wave also stiffened the mage’s body, causing stabbing pain in his heart.

With the strange force-field gone, Shaven lunged again. The greatsword traced a curved arc like antelope horns and smashed into the opponent’s shield, slicing it in two and tearing a long wound across the mage’s body.

The mage’s face contorted in pain as he rolled on the ground to avoid follow-up attacks, then trembling fingers produced a vial.

A black-blue liquid shot out like ink and, under his control, quickly formed into a sigil.

“You rude country mutt, step back!” he snarled through gritted teeth, then the black-blue sigil rocketed out and struck Shaven.

The invisible force penetrated through the ink into his body, locking the wrist that had raised the blade. He felt as if a mountain pressed him down, bent over in a heap.

A Sovereign Spell, Sylutia blinked and analyzed the spell’s details. The first clause invoked was “rude in etiquette.” According to ancient noble dueling etiquette, opponents introduce themselves before a duel. Since the other had attacked directly, the Sovereign Spell gained a “righteousness” bonus. The second clause called him a country mutt—a harsh insult, but in the Sovereign Spell it affirmed an identity gap, also enhancing the spell’s potency.

Those two bonuses activated, and with the potion’s effect, the spell’s strength quadrupled. That was why it had restrained Shaven’s overwhelming physical force.

Although the spell temporarily controlled him, if he didn’t finish the match quickly his injured body wouldn’t hold. Sovereign Spells excel at control and shock; they rarely deliver direct destructive force.

The standing mage then took out a purple vial and chanted an incantation to empower it. The potion surged forth and morphed into a strange serpentine shape.

Construct Spell: Iron-lock Flying Serpent. A flying snake constructed like interlocking metal rings, it can bind an opponent and lock onto itself, restraining the enemy.

A roughly three-meter-long flying snake made of sturdy metal loops shot out and tightly coiled around Shaven, its head and tail rings locking together seamlessly.

Having just broken free from the Sovereign Spell’s shock, Shaven now found himself bound again by the iron-lock serpent. He struggled and inhaled sharply; his chest expanded, but as his muscles bulged the serpent stretched and tightened in response, preventing him from applying strength. Enraged, he roared again. The tiger-howl sonic wave sent the mage tumbling; the wound that had just stopped bleeding gushed open once more.

Now one side was immobilized by the iron-lock, the other sprawled on the ground pale and sweating from pain. With the struggle in such an ugly state, everyone fell silent.

Fortunately, the stalemate didn’t last. The iron-lock-bound Shaven finally activated the core secret technique tied to his Third Tier. The blood-wolf tattoo on his body glowed an uncanny red and tore the iron-lock serpent apart.

Core Card: Blood Wolf Totem [Bloodline]

“You are the tribe’s strongest warrior. You slew a beast far mightier than yourself and etched its blood upon your body, absorbing its strength.”

-Effect: ‘Blood Wolf Possession,’ briefly enhances all-around strength and allows the blood-wolf phantom to rend tangible and intangible things. (Strength +2, Constitution +2, Spirit +1, Blood-wolf phantom manifests)

After shredding the iron-lock serpent, the blood-wolf phantom dissolved within Shaven, but the strength boost he’d gained remained. He leapt out again, face savage, charging violently.

This guy might not be able to control himself now—he could easily kill the opponent on the spot, Sylutia thought, glancing at Norez in the distance.

The senior’s brows were tightly knit; he had already realized how dangerous things were. He raised a hand, and a faint gleam appeared under the venue’s flooring. If things worsened he could sever the fight at once.

Luckily the mage opponent managed to get back onto his feet. Gritting through the pain, he stared at the charging form and raised a hand. Suddenly an invisible force-field spread. As Shaven rushed forward, the gravity beneath him fluctuated. His normal forward step in the low-gravity zone suddenly launched him upward; by the time he landed he had missed the mage’s position.

Shaven charged again and again, but each attempt repeated the same pattern. The mage calmly adjusted the force-field, continuously changing conditions and altering Shaven’s attack trajectory so he could not land a hit.

If Shaven had retained his reason, he might have adapted after a try or two and changed tactics. But his mind was out of control; even with boosted power, he only wasted energy by failing to strike.

A minute later, the totem’s blessing waned and Shaven regained clear thinking. He no longer charged blindly; he inhaled deeply and produced a violent sonic roar, dispersing the invisible force-field.

Regrettably, another iron-lock flying serpent shot out and wound around him, interrupting his follow-up move.

Without the totem’s aid and after that burst, his strength had diminished. He could not break free this time and had to accept defeat in the duel.

“It’s finally over. What an ugly match.” The fourth-year chief beside Sylutia pressed a hand to her forehead. The pretty woman with chestnut wavy hair looked like she couldn’t bear it.

Though both sides fought poorly, Sylutia noticed their clear stylistic differences. Members of the Hidden Grove Alliance, like many factions, emphasized raw power and specialized in one area, while mages valued breadth, seeking to exploit an opponent’s weakness with technique.

If the shield had been held up purely by brute force, likely few mages could stand against Shaven’s violent greatsword swings. But with targeted spells, a mage could effectively counter such a foe.

Although Tetis College won, considering that Tetis absorbed the Mage Alliance’s best elites and that the Wildfire Sect wasn’t powerful within the Hidden Grove Alliance—its members mostly came from wild regions—the true victor of the duel remained ambiguous.

A victory that felt shameful...

Back at school, that student would probably be scolded by his chief.

Just as everyone thought the duel was done and began to disperse, footsteps sounded nearby, causing them to stop and look up.

A girl in a purple-black formal gown led a group of Hidden Grove Alliance members. Her black hair was braided and pinned up, leaving two delicate strands to flutter at her temples. Her purple eyes tilted slightly at the corners, and a predatory smile curved her lips.

“So that’s who it was. Turns out it’s an old acquaintance—Norez, you’re leading the team?” she chimed.

She looked only about nineteen, but already Fifth Tier in strength. Deep purple gloves covered her snow-white wrists; she lightly propped one hand against her cheek and smiled at the assembled crowd. The Hidden Grove Alliance members she fixed her gaze on shivered.

Though she hadn’t introduced herself, the black-purple Nightmare flames dancing at her feet made many Tetis College students uneasy and back away.

Norez stepped forward and positioned himself in front of the Tetis College ranks to face this long-time rival.

“Herris, you’ve advanced.” His tone was steady; he did not seem shaken by being overtaken.

“Is that how you congratulate someone? Still as boring as ever.” She stretched the gloved fingers, giving a faint snap.

“How about another contest today? Just you and me. If you win, I’ll do anything you ask~” she teased, taunting the solemn chief.

Tetis College members gasped. Many glanced between the two, curious and surprised, trying to spot gossip.

For such immature reactions to be easily provoked, Norez frowned. He merely waved his hand, and the people behind him suddenly felt a chill beneath their feet—the cold crept along their bones and quickly quieted the crowd.

“Oh dear, are you scolding children? So rigid.” Herris covered her mouth and laughed softly, her intoxicating form trembling slightly and drawing many eyes. Even without extra abilities, she had already ensnared several souls.

Staring at the woman who had captured the whole room’s attention, Sylutia thought carefully and finally remembered the rival’s background.

It had to be her—Herris, the genius witch of the Night Dream Tea Party faction. She was the first talent in nearly a hundred years to reach Fourth Tier before thirty, a record Sylutia herself later broke. Unfortunately, when Sylutia lived in the Hidden Grove, Herris had been busy advancing and hadn’t appeared publicly, so the two had never met.

She hadn’t expected Herris to lead the team. If Sylutia were still in the Hidden Grove Alliance now, she might well be the one standing where Herris was.