The witch’s body convulsed with unrelenting agony.
She had consumed the highest-grade healing potion, just one step below the legendary Elixir of Life or the revered Spell of Rejuvenation known only to the High Ranking Priests of Light.
This potent concoction had the miraculous ability to fully mend the body, and even regenerate severed limbs.
However, the potion needed a duration of a full five seconds to perform its extraordinary work.
During those interminable five seconds, the witch experienced the excruciating torment of her insides being shredded and then miraculously healed while her dismembered hands and legs regrew.
The relentless cycle of healing and agony persisted as the shards of glass vials swirled within her, relentlessly tearing through her organs and tissues.
Each time a wound healed, the shards tore anew, continuing their torturous journey through her body.
Inside her mouth, the glass shards were expelled as soon as the piercing wounds mended, only to be forced down her esophagus, where they inflicted fresh lacerations that healed almost instantaneously.
The brutal loop of piercing and healing repeated, transforming her insides into a battlefield of ceaseless pain and regeneration.
Finally, the glass shards, having torn through her body, found their way, settling in her stomach.
The jagged pieces pressed painfully against her insides, causing an unbearable, gnawing sensation.
For the first time in their lives, Duke Cassius and the Head Butler watched in stunned silence as a torment like none they had ever seen unfolded before them.
They watched a new method of torture by using the glass vial of the healing potion.
The scene was a grotesque tableau of suffering; the witch’s body convulsed and writhed, dragging herself across the cold, damp floor like a fish out of water.
Her screams of agony echoed through the chamber as her arms and legs, severed and mangled, slowly regenerated before their eyes.
Finally, after five agonizing seconds, the witch stooped, her body trembling as she breathed heavily, each inhale a struggle.
Her skin, still pale from the ordeal, glistened with sweat, and she could barely keep herself upright.
With great effort, the witch began to rise, her eyes blazing with fury as she fixed her glare on Leon. Her voice dripped with venomous intent. "I will make sure to kill you, brat. For this disrespect–"
Leon let out a kind smile, his voice betraying none of the tension in the room. "It seems that the Great Witch is still there. Why don’t we start round two?" he asked, crouching down and effortlessly picking up the second healing potion from the floor.
Without breaking eye contact with the witch, he moved toward her, his steps measured and confident.
’My interference will be disturbed if this body suffers any more pain. I will be forced to return while my disciple’s mind takes over. I also can’t interfere a second time,’ thought the Great Witch, the realization settling heavily in her chest.
But there was nothing she could do.
Leon stood right before her, his calm expression unwavering, his kind smile belying the tension that hung in the air.
His shadow stretched across her, looming over her weakened form like an ominous omen.
The Great Witch, seeing that infuriatingly calm smile on Leon’s face, felt a surge of fury bubble up within her.
’No matter what, I will make sure to destroy that church of Light’, she vowed silently.
"Miss, say ’Aah,’" Leon said, his voice disarmingly gentle as he brought the potion vial slowly in front of her mouth.
The Great Witch shut her mouth tight, refusing to utter another word and give Leon any opportunity to shove that glass in her mouth.
Suddenly, the magic circle that had been hovering around Leon came to an abrupt halt in mid-air, its glow intensifying.
It hovered ominously in front of the Witch’s midsection, casting an eerie light. The Head Butler’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight.
The Dark Magic: Vengeance was not a commonly used spell, for its power was dependent on a set of rare and precise conditions.
Once activated, it enveloped the user in an impenetrable barrier that protected them from any form of harm for three full seconds.
During this brief yet critical window, any attack that struck the user would be absorbed and stored within the magic circle—its power building, waiting to be redirected.
The user could then channel this stored damage with nothing more than a thought, directing it wherever they wished.
However, the true power of the spell lay not just in its ability to deflect and retaliate, but in its dependence on the user’s affinity with the Darkness Element.
The stronger the connection to Darkness, the greater the power with which the redirected attack would strike.
As the Black Magic Circle glowed with an ominous brilliance, the wave of accumulated damage was redirected back toward the witch.
Her body convulsed once more as the spell’s effects were not merely physical; they began to shred her organs from within.
The witch’s body twitched uncontrollably, the internal assault manifesting as unspeakable agony, while the chamber bore witness to the harrowing spectacle of dark magic’s vengeance.
"AAAA—" The Great Witch’s mouth opened to release another scream of pain, her body writhing as the damage continued to rip through her insides.
But Leon was faster. With a swift, practiced motion, he shoved the glass vial into her mouth.
Under the witch’s violently shaking eyes came the uppercut—a swift and powerful strike straight to her chin.
The impact snapped her head back, her eyes widening in shock and pain. The potion vial shattered in her mouth, and the remnants of the healing liquid mixed with blood as it spread through her system.
The strength of a D Ranker shone once again as the witch’s jaw broke under the force of Leon’s uppercut, imposing a second round of torment upon her.
The Great Witch was now forced to endure the force of her own attack, along with the excruciating pain of glass shards tearing through her healing insides once more.
’The damage from the circle is extremely low.
Normally, the redirected damage is doubled if someone has an average affinity for magic.
For those with exceptional talent in Darkness, this spell’s damage redirection could multiply eight to ten times.
But judging by the current damage, it’s not even fifty percent.
It’s somewhere around ten or twenty percent, the bare minimum stored within the spell.
Well, even ten or twenty percent of that attack could easily kill an E Ranker, considering the original attack was meant to take down SSS Ranks’, Ashok thought, his gaze fixed on the Witch.
The reason behind this was the Nature’s Forsaken Curse cast on Ashok by Morriathis.
’Well, even the bare minimum works’, thought Ashok as he watched the eyes of the witch slowly returning to their original color.
The Great Witch’s connection had been severed midway, leaving the Witch of Rogues to fully experience the excruciating pain.
Normally, Ashok could have asked the Head Butler for a simple mental attack spell, which alone could have broken the Great Witch’s connection.
The Great Witch had not used any form of possession; rather, she had created a mental channel through her disciple’s mind to insert her own.
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The attack she manifested was amplified using her disciple’s mental strength, but this was not a process that could be repeated. The limits of both the body and the mind made it impossible.
The link had been broken through the overwhelming sensation of pain, snapping the mental connection between the Witch and her Master.
The eyes of the Witch of Rogues were those of someone who had suffered from insomnia for days.
Exhaustion radiated from her, and all she wanted now was to sleep, no longer caring about the pain that had consumed her.
However, the highest-grade healing potion worked its magic, even healing her insomnia, albeit as a minor side effect. This was due to the Alchemist incorporating a minor potion of mental strength into the highest-grade healing potion.
Despite the slight restoration of her mental strength, it didn’t mean the Great Witch would be able to return again.
The connection had been a one-time ordeal, taxing even for the Great Witch due to the Space Isolation Barrier.
Leon observed the transformation and, with a warm, homecoming smile, said, "It seems that Miss Witch of Rogues is back. Congratulations on your return."
"Why would you reject my master’s offer? Do you think the Church can survive if the Witches openly attacked it?" the Witch smirked, her eyes glinting with a mix of mockery and challenge.
She expected the Hero to waver, to show some hint of regret over his decision.
But there was none.
Leon’s eyes, wild and fervent, locked onto hers as he declared, "I believe in the Saintess. The Church does not fear the witches. All Hail the Goddess of Light."
His voice was resolute, unwavering, carrying the weight of unshakable faith.
The Witch’s smirk faded, replaced by a hard, cold stare. Leon’s words could be immediately taken as a declaration of war against the Witches.
"You... Are you really a Hero? How could you declare a war without thinking even for a second? Do you not truly care about the lives involved in it?" the Witch said, her voice a mix of incredulity and anger.
Leon responded with a calm, almost casual tone. "Miss Witch, your kind is called the Agent of Death and Destruction over the empire. Such words do not suit you, miss witch," he said politely, as if they were merely discussing the weather.
The Witch’s eyes widened, and then a laugh burst from her lips, echoing through the chamber. "You are no Hero. You are a Psychopath. YOU ARE A DEVIL," she spat, her voice filled with a mix of fear and fury.
"Just shut up, witch! I don’t want to hear you any longer!" said Leon, his cold voice echoing through the chamber. The sudden change in his demeanor left the Witch of Rogues shocked, her eyes widening in surprise.