Witch Monastery

Charles burst through the Timber Yard's doorway, his heart lurching at the sight of the two erected Soul-Touch Statues.

Sophia had backup plans after all.

This complicated things.

If ordinary humans couldn't withstand the statues' chaotic energies without going mad, for witches—beings inherently aligned with chaotic magic—absorbing this power was like gorging on rich steak: overwhelming but revitalizing.

Charles inhaled sharply but remained composed. "Ruth, flank around and destroy those statues. Hattie, bind Sophia with your Black Tentacles—just one second of control is enough!"

He adjusted his footing, grateful his Longstrider spell still held. "Coordinate perfectly. We'll whittle her down through repeated purifications!"

"Understood!" Ruth exploded into motion, her human form even faster than her true body's terrifying speed. She arced around Sophia, blades aimed at the wooden statues.

"You—!" Sophia's flagella thrashed in rage. Her mouthparts screeched:

"Slow—!"

A 3rd-level spell erupted—not powerful but brutally effective, reducing movement to a crawl. Its counterpart, Haste, was every warrior's dream buff.

"Stop her!" Sophia commanded. The nausea-wracked cultists tried casting—

Only to vomit violently. "Blegh—!"

Both sides found themselves equally crippled in combat effectiveness.

"Hattie, now! Break her concentration!"

Charles shouted as he charged straight toward Sophia. He recognized this spell—Slow, along with its counterpart Haste, were among the most famous 3rd-level buff and debuff spells.

Their only weakness? They required the caster's continuous focus to maintain.

Meaning—they could be interrupted!

Behind him, Hattie rapidly completed her incantation. Dark tentacles erupted from the ground, binding Sophia's body completely.

Charles rushed forward without finesse, slamming his palm against Sophia:

"Purification!"

BUZZ—

Milky light enveloped her form.

"SKREEE—!" Sophia's mouthparts emitted a piercing shriek as her body convulsed. The Slow spell collapsed instantly, restoring Ruth's full speed.

"You! Die!"

Black mist surged from Sophia's body, dissolving the tentacles. One whip-like appendage shot toward Charles' neck—

"Shield!"

The protective barrier flared to life, deflecting the attack effortlessly.

"One... two... three..." Charles counted silently. The Shield spell lasted only six seconds. He maintained the purifying light until "five," then retreated—

WHOOSH!

The flailing tentacles grasped empty air. First exchange: two spell slots expended, no substantial losses.

Ahead, a visibly weakened Sophia twitched her flagella, preparing to pursue—only to see Ruth already behind the statues, her blades carving through the wood.

"Begone, wretch!"

Sophia's mouthparts screeched. Abandoning Charles, she recast Slow and unleashed a basketball-sized Chromatic Orb at Ruth.

BOOM—!

The orb detonated midair. Fortunately, even slowed, Ruth's innate speed allowed her to evade the direct hit—only suffering minor splash damage.

After this exchange, the trio remained virtually unscathed. Sophia, however, found herself overwhelmed by their coordinated assault while her cultists remained incapacitated.

Good. Two or three more rounds like this—destroy the remaining statues—then we focus Sophia down.

The advantage is still ours.

Charles allowed himself a moment of relief as he assessed the battlefield—

KRAKOOM!

A deafening explosion erupted at the Timber Yard's entrance. Blinding lightning flashed, followed by Ekta's piercing scream:

"AAAGH—!"

Charles whirled toward the sound. Rapid footsteps pounded closer as dark figures burst into the Timber Yard, hands clamped over their noses and mouths.

Who are they?

Reinforcements? Enemies?

Before he could ponder further, a silver flash cut through the haze. Primordial danger screamed through his nerves—

He's targeting me!

"Shield!"

The protective barrier materialized just as a silver square-headed hammer struck—

BOOM!

A violent surge of electricity exploded across Charles' body, the concussive force sending him flying uncontrollably backward.

"UGH—!"

He crashed to the ground with a pained grunt, rolling several times before coming to a stop. Dizziness washed over him.

Thank the gods for Eldritch Mind and his dual 2nd-level protective spells—without them, he'd be unconscious at best, completely combat-ineffective at worst.

Still, it took several seconds for the world to stop spinning.

When his vision finally cleared—

He found himself lying right beside Sophia.

The intruders were none other than Xanathar's Guild thugs, led by their near-feral commander, Kendrz.

His eyes burned crimson, body radiating an ominous red glow. Infernal power—bestowed by devils—coursed through his veins as Regolas' voice echoed like a curse in his mind:

"That white-haired man...

He's the source of all your troubles...

Kill him... sever his left arm...

Complete your mission... reclaim what you've lost..."

"DIE—!"

Kendrz roared, the relentless whispers driving him to madness. With no outlet for his rage against the cambion, he charged—shield and warhammer raised—toward Charles!

"Master!"

Hattie's startled cry slipped out, revealing their true relationship. She'd seen the silver projectile but couldn't intercept its lightning-fast trajectory.

"You bastards...!"

The witch's eyes blazed with fury. Dark energy swirled around her as she prepared to annihilate these Xanathar interlopers.

"Ignore me!"

Charles scrambled away, rolling through the filth to escape Sophia's reach.

Miraculously, Sophia remained focused on casting—desperately trying to stop Ruth from destroying her precious statues. Had she prioritized eliminating Charles over preserving them, his unprotected state would have made him easy prey.

But fate often hinged on such split-second choices.

Covered in grime, Charles bellowed: "Keep pressuring Sophia! Let Ruth wreck those statues! Andny—tell Sephera to intensify the Stinking Cloud!"

No time to check on Ekta. Survival took priority over healing.

Hearing his strong voice, Hattie suppressed her worry. Weaving through the new threats, she summoned more tentacles to harass Sophia.

Charles finally got a clear look at his attacker—

The silver square-headed hammer had already returned to its master's grip.

Recognition dawned.

Storm Warhammer.

The crowning achievement of hill dwarf craftsmanship. Using their unique runic magic, they bound the power of lightning and storms within these hammers. Upon impact, they unleash terrifying electrical discharges and concussive force—capable of knocking targets unconscious while hurling them backward.

What's more, these weapons possess a homing enchantment—when thrown, they automatically return to their master's hand. This allows dwarves to use them as ranged weapons, striking enemies from afar before recalling them.

Just as Kendrz had demonstrated moments ago.

Legends say the Mountain King himself wielded such a hammer to vanquish all giants in the Gauntlgrym Mountains, securing a peaceful homeland for his people.

To this day, the crafting methods remain a closely guarded secret of the hill dwarves. Only they may possess such weapons—humans must earn the trust of an entire dwarven kingdom to obtain one.

But gaining dwarven trust is no simple feat. Their long lifespans and conservative nature mean centuries of friendship may not earn a single dwarf's confidence, let alone an entire kingdom's.

The alternative—theft—invites generations of relentless vengeance from every hill dwarf clan.

Yet somehow, this Xanathar's Guild thug possessed one...

A nasty piece of work.

But not unbeatable...

Charles' eyes gleamed as thicker yellow-green toxic mist flooded the area, watching most thugs stagger. Sephera's making her move. He immediately raised his hand, firing two Eldritch Blast energy beams straight at the hammer-wielder.

BANG—!

The thick-bearded Kendrz raised his magically-imbued shield, effortlessly deflecting both blasts. He took just one step back to absorb the impact, completely unharmed.

Charles gritted his teeth.

Damn it! Single Eldritch Blasts are useless against magical shields!

Why don't I know Agonizing Blast yet?!

With that, I'd reduce him to ashes where he stands!

No time for regrets. Seeing thrown hammers were ineffective, Kendrz switched tactics—advancing behind his shield in a controlled charge.

Charles backpedaled while firing again, but the shield absorbed the blasts effortlessly. The warrior barely slowed before accelerating toward him.

Shit! How am I supposed to fight this?!

He didn't realize he faced a 6th-level warrior freshly empowered by devilish pacts—a 1st-level warlock hybrid three levels his superior.

Better equipped too.

Normally, a prepared 4th-level spellcaster could challenge such an opponent. After all, well-funded mages usually outgear impoverished warriors—not the reverse.

Yet here, the tables had turned completely.

Outmatched in attributes, levels, and equipment, the scales tipped overwhelmingly toward Kendrz. Without reinforcements, victory seemed impossible.

Charles kept retreating through the cluttered Timber Yard, maneuvering space shrinking fast. One misstep toward Sophia's battle, and he'd be finished.

Irony—I'm usually the flanker.

Now I'm the one surrounded.

His hand found his spellbook—maybe a Thunderwave could—

Then—

A tall silhouette leaped three meters into the air with a roar:

"Kendrz—DIE!"

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