Buzz——
Very soon, the effect of "Time Stop" faded. The terrifying Shudde M'ell still intended to unleash another earthquake, but now, after a full minute of chanting and channeling magical power, Vajra's tenth-level spell was complete!
A surge of dreadful energy enveloped its body. In the next moment, Shudde M'ell's body was wrenched away from the ground, beginning to rise, and accelerating ever faster—soaring into the sky like a rocket!
Buzz——
The Great Old One let out a silent shriek of the soul. Yet now, in its weakened condition and wholly unprepared for this spell, it could muster no effective resistance!
Its body scraped violently against the atmosphere, swiftly turning red, as if truly molten. It writhed and struggled desperately, but apart from stirring currents of air and producing deep or piercing vibrations, it could do nothing.
Eventually, it vanished beyond the distant edge of the sky, never to be seen again.
Vajra opened her eyes once more, her expression indescribably exhausted.
She could feel that her strength had suffered a permanent loss—she would need a long time of seclusion and training to recover from this depletion.
This was the price of casting a tenth-level spell. Legendary mages merely possessed the qualification to cast such spells—it did not mean they did not have to pay the price.
Simultaneously, this was yet more proof of the recent changes to the Goddess of Magic: in the past, previous bearers of the Blackstaff, when casting tenth-level spells, could let the staff—ultimately the Goddess of Magic herself—pay the cost. Their own bodies would suffer nothing.
But things were different now. The Goddess of Magic could no longer help her bear this cost. Every deficit had to be borne by Vajra herself.
Vajra closed her eyes again and cast the seventh-level spell "Teleport," returning to the top floor of Blackstaff Tower.
The very moment she arrived, her legs gave way and she collapsed on the thick white carpet, gasping for breath.
Listening to herself, she knew that for some time, it would be impossible for her to go deal with the so-called "Montport" Demon Lord.
Biting back her enormous fatigue and weariness, she cast one final spell for her subordinates.
Sending.
"Notify all Blackstaff Tower mages," she ordered, "Mobilize at once. At any cost, eradicate the last remaining demons and Chthonians in the mountains!"
With these words, she could no longer hold back the overwhelming weariness. Even before her subordinates could reply, she fell fast asleep.
She rested, but at that moment, the true trial for Blackstaff Tower and all of Liberl Port was only beginning.
To defeat Shudde M'ell, she had stirred too much water vapor. This vapor, boiled out of Shudde M'ell's superheated skin, rose into the sky, reformed into massive storm clouds, rapidly cooled—then fell as torrential rain upon the city—
Boom——!
Above the city, thunderclouds saturated with moisture clashed in the heights, unleashing a deafening peal of thunder across the skies!
"Whew…"
South Harbor District, monastery, scriptorium, second floor. Here, Charles was reading, studying spells. He looked up, frowning out the window.
He could well imagine what was happening among the mountains to the northwest, why what was a bright day had suddenly unleashed a deluge.
Though the South Harbor District was a hundred miles from the battlefield, the aftershocks of that earth-rending quake still carried through—he had already felt four or five strong tremors. Thankfully, the monastery's construction was solid enough that he needed not flee outdoors.
And after the quake, the rain: a winter storm far more terrible than any typhoon. Great fists of rain pummeled the earth, forming a barrier that utterly cut off any view outside.
Staring out, Charles could see nothing of the world beyond—he felt totally isolated, his room the only place left in existence.
Luckily, the monastery was sturdy; even if the tremors had been worse, it wouldn't collapse.
He set aside his studies, grateful for this shelter. But then, another worry struck him, and his heart tightened.
He was safe. But what of the residents of the slums?
That place was filled with crumbling hazards, houses that could collapse at a kick. With such an earthquake now followed by relentless rain, how many were brought down?
After a house falls, where do those who have nowhere to hide go? How will ordinary residents survive such a storm?
Especially now, in winter. Soaked by this rain…
His heart squeezed—he could hardly imagine what devastation now reigned in the slums.
How many would freeze to death in the storm, how many be swept away, how many drown—how many lives would this night claim?
He cast a glance toward another direction, then shook off any hope.
There could be no expecting help from the South Harbor District's city hall. The Amazons would do nothing; they were as cold and indifferent as ever.
No one would help—unless…
For a moment, Charles could not help wishing he could be more oblivious, duller by nature.
If he hadn't such keen thoughts and vivid imagination—if he could not envision how those in the slums now suffered, how many perished tonight—then he would not have to bear this wrenching anguish and guilt. He could close his ears to the world and simply keep on practicing magic.
He was on the verge of learning an important new spell—"Hex," a first-level spell that greatly increased his damage. With it, he'd be able to inflict even more harm on bosses.
And yet…
Taking a deep breath, Charles pulled a gold coin from his Bag of Holding. This was a coin minted by the Goddess of Trade and Wealth—one side marked with its value, the other bearing her profile.
Merchants in Liberl Port traded globally, but only trusted their own currency and the Goddess's credit. Thus, this gold was always in demand.
Charles placed the coin in his palm, brought hands together, and bowed his head in silent prayer. "O Goddess of Life, I know the people of the slums suffer. My strength is too small to turn back this disaster. If, as I go out to save them, you will guide and protect me, let the coin's numbered side face up."
He opened his eyes, flipped the coin, and caught it, trapping it between his palms at its apex.
Without looking at the result, he put the coin back and stood up. Going downstairs, he called out, "Andny, summon all the nuns, and give them my command: go out and save people!"
By then, he had already reached the first floor. Here, Sophia sat in a chair, with Lisa snuggled in her lap, peering with a mix of curiosity and fear at the rain pounding outside.
Not even typhoons in summer ever brought such rain, let alone in winter. Lisa was terrified, afraid the rain would soon become hail and batter the house.
Though hail would not break the monastery, the little girl's heart trembled with fear.
Upon hearing Charles come down, Sophia and Lisa both turned. The former, having already received Andny's telepathic message, quietly asked, "Priest, you want to save people? Do you have a plan?"
Charles nodded. "I still have some resources—I can build several more dormitories. Then we head out, look for the poor swept up by the floods, and bring them here—house as many as we can."
"Though the slums are vast and our manpower is limited—"
He sighed. "But if we can save even one, that's enough."
Hardly had his voice faded when the door opened, and several nuns filed in. Andny held Elise in her arms, looking the very image of a young mother.
Charles took a long breath, then began assigning tasks: "Hattie, Ruth, Sephera, Theresa, Nidalee—you five go to the slums. Find those whose houses have collapsed, who are now homeless or swept away. Save every person you can."
"Andny, stay with Lisa, and use your worms to keep us all in contact at all times."
"Sophia, you also stay here. First, one task—go fetch Malena. She's likely still alone at the tailor's shop, which isn't safe."
"Ekta, come with me; we'll build more shelters. Once that's done, I'll go save people—you light fires in each shelter, build stoves."
He arranged everything thus, according to each witch's traits.
Ekta, of course, could not go out in the rain—being a fire witch, these stormy nights were more dangerous for her than any Chthonian, perhaps even mortal.
Andny also could not go—though she had begun learning her craft, her powers were still too weak to handle such conditions, much less to rescue anyone.
As for Sophia…
She was truly unsuited for high-speed movement. Sending her out would be useless; better that she stay at the monastery, where she might later be of greater use.
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