Sophia’s mind swirled with confusion. The explosions, roars, and screams outside made something within her tremble.
Is any of this truly worth it?
That witch controlling mosquitoes... she feels so familiar...
Why? Is she my friend?
I feel such warmth, such recognition—yet why can’t I remember her name?
Who am I? Who are they?
Driven by these swirling questions and the familiar energies calling to her, Sophia slowly emerged from the Timber Yard where she’d hidden for over half a month, stepping onto the bloodied streets.
Her appearance brought the entire battlefield to a standstill.
The cultists stood awestruck at their Master’s emergence.
The Amazons froze, the monstrous form triggering traumatic memories of the Night of the Witches.
Charles and his witches felt their hearts leap into their throats—this was their worst-case scenario unfolding. Sophia had revealed her true form publicly!
Damn it! This is spiraling out of control!
Ruth’s blades flashed one final time as she dismantled a wooden statue. "Strike now?" she whispered.
Through the mosquitoes Andny had placed near everyone’s ears, the message spread: "Ruth asks—do we attack?"
"Negative! Too many witnesses!" Charles gritted his teeth. Purifying Sophia here would revert her to nun form, exposing the monastery’s darkest secret.
As everyone stood paralyzed, the eight high-ranking cultists at the doorway acted.
They raised crystal orbs in unison, chanting arcane incantations. Seven-colored light erupted, blanketing the battlefield.
The 1st-level spell, upcast for massive area coverage, left every Amazon warrior blinded—rendered instantly combat-ineffective.
The once-chaotic battlefield fell eerily silent. The warriors clustered together behind shields, helpless as lambs for slaughter.
The cultists wasted no time. Eight more Chromatic Orbs—larger, more powerful—streaked toward the blinded Amazons.
Direct hits vaporized bodies. Even near misses tore limbs apart.
Deafening explosions rocked the battlefield. The Amazons, unable to dodge, were torn apart by the blasts. One unlucky warrior took a direct hit—her body vaporized instantly.
In moments, the tide of battle had completely turned.
Charles felt his heart clench.
Thirty spellcasters...?
Just how powerful is Sophia now, to create so many in half a month?!
The spell hadn’t affected him. Color Spray, like Sleep, preyed on the weak-willed.
At its core, it was an illusion—meaning those with strong mental fortitude or anti-illusion measures could resist it.
Charles, with his Eldritch Mind training, was immune. So were his witches.
But seeing the cultists brutalize the Amazons, Charles gritted his teeth. "Hattie, Ruth—break off! Subdue Sophia. I’ll handle the purification!"
Hattie immediately disengaged, rushing toward Sophia without a backward glance. Ruth abandoned her efforts to destroy the second statue and followed.
Truthfully, the second statue wasn’t necessary anymore. With the mana-restoring statue already destroyed, the cultists could no longer spam Chromatic Orbs endlessly. Their combat effectiveness had plummeted to barely above common street thugs.
Now it took four or five of them working together just to restrain a single Amazon warrior - their threat level had become negligible.
Abandoning the cleanup of these minions, the two witches unleashed their full magical power, streaking toward Sophia’s position.
At the Timber Yard’s main entrance, the eight high-ranking cultists immediately assumed defensive postures, their crystal orbs glowing ominously with magical energy.
With Sophia at full strength and eight spellcasters backing her, even Hattie and Ruth felt uncertain of victory.
Yet surprisingly, the eight cultists didn’t attack immediately. Instead, they maintained a tense standoff.
Behind them, Sophia’s flagella twitched as she sensed familiar presences and magical signatures. "...Hattie...Ruth...?"
Suddenly, her grotesque mouthparts produced a series of guttural, barely intelligible sounds. Though distorted, the two witches who knew her well could discern - Sophia was calling their names!
They skidded to a halt before the eight cultists, exchanging confused glances.
Did Sophia...still retain some shred of consciousness?
Ruth hesitated uncertainly. But Hattie reacted instantly, responding in a voice filled with gentle warmth: "Yes, it’s us. We’ve come to help you, Sophia - just as we promised."
As she spoke, she urgently signaled Ruth with her eyes.
Catching on, Ruth added firmly, though somewhat awkwardly: "We’re not your enemies. We’re your most loyal allies. Come, Sophia—stop wasting your magic power. Leave with us!"
Guiding her carefully, they tried to steer Sophia away from prying eyes. The agitation in Sophia’s flagella gradually stilled—the nuns’ soothing words were clearly working. Slowly, she began to move forward, as if ready to embrace them.
The eight cultist leaders parted in perfect unison, creating a path. Their movements were eerily synchronized—less like well-trained soldiers and more like puppets on strings, controlled entirely by Sophia.
The battlefield had taken on a surreal quality. Blinded Amazon warriors flailed helplessly, still managing to pummel the magic-depleted cultists in close combat through sheer instinct. Chaos reigned, yet neither side could gain the upper hand.
Charles watched from afar as the mosquito at his ear whispered: "Hattie has Sophia under control." His gaze swept across the tumultuous battlefield, anxiety mounting.
There were still too many witnesses. If he purified Sophia now, the Color Spray effect would break. The newly sighted Amazons—and any surviving cultists—would see Sophia’s true form revert to human.
His greatest secret would be exposed!
He could create an impenetrable barrier—one that blinded all observers.
"Sephera!" He turned, calling out sharply. "Toxic Mist!"
This was his only solution: a noxious cloud to shroud the battlefield and block all vision.
After all, he and his witches were toxin-resistant. Everyone else—Amazons and cultists alike—were vulnerable ordinary humans.
A thick, ink-green fog would force them back while obscuring the view. Perfect—unless some ill-timed gust of wind ruined everything.
"I... I’ll try!" Sephera clenched her teeth. Her spellcasting had weakened drastically—she could no longer cast Cloudkill, the devastating 5th-level spell that killed with a single breath.
"Not Cloudkill!" Charles clarified urgently. "Something milder—just enough to repel them and block vision!"
Hearing this, Sephera relaxed slightly. "That I can do."
If not a 5th-level spell, but still wide-ranging, nauseating, and vision-obscuring...
There was only one choice.
The 3rd-level spell—Stinking Cloud.
Sephera recited the arcane incantation. Instantly, a vile, yellowish-green mist erupted from her palms, spreading rapidly through the streets. The acrid stench burned eyes and triggered instant gagging.
Even with Sephera’s blessing granting some toxin resistance, Charles nearly retched from the overwhelming stench.
Damn, this really lives up to its reputation as the "stinkiest" spell in the game!
Talk about friendly fire...
If it affected him this badly, others fared far worse. Those farther away barely held on, while anyone closer immediately vomited violently.
Blinded Amazon warriors stumbled away from the putrid cloud, many collapsing in their frantic retreat. The battlefield descended into utter chaos.
The cultists, already mentally compromised, couldn’t overcome their bodies’ instinctive reactions. Some doubled over, vomiting profusely, while others turned ghastly pale from poisoning.
Within moments, the noxious cloud had divided the Timber Yard into two distinct zones—only Charles and his witches remained functional.
Perfect. Just what we needed.
"Sephera, maintain the mist!" Charles ordered. "Andny, monitor the perimeter. Ekta, keep suppressing fire. I’ll handle Sophia’s purification!"
He strode toward the Timber Yard’s entrance where eight cultist guards raised their weapons shakily. Despite trembling from the toxic fumes, they stood ready to cast spells.
Hattie quickly reassured Sophia: "Don’t fear. He’s my apostle, here to restore your memories and strength."
Ruth added softly: "Relax, Sophia. Trust us—we’re your truest sisters."
Sophia’s flagella twitched agitatedly, but she complied. The eight guards parted reluctantly as Charles approached her monstrous form.
Holding his breath, Charles placed his hand on her grotesque body and whispered: "Purification."
Holy white light erupted, seeping into Sophia’s flesh and soul. Her massive form convulsed violently as her mouthparts screeched:
You lied! Not allies—ENEMIES!"
Her flagella thrashed wildly as dark energy surged. The eight cultists simultaneously raised hands wreathed in black magic, forming enormous shadowy blades aimed at Charles.
But Hattie was ready:
"Evard’s Black Tentacles!"
Inky mist pooled at her feet before erupting into massive ink-green tentacles that ensnared both the cultists and Sophia’s bulk. Necrotic energy drained their vitality.
Ruth moved like lightning—her blade piercing the nearest cultist’s heart.
Sophia’s shriek grated like metal on glass. Charles’ ears bled from the piercing noise, but he maintained contact, pouring every ounce of will into sustaining the purification.
Purifying peak-strength Sophia would take far longer than Ruth had required.
His urgency proved justified.
Even ambushed, Sophia counterattacked. Dark mist crawled up the restraining tentacles, withering them to husks.
A tremendous repulsive force exploded outward from her body!
--------------------------------------
Support me at /TransFic and read upto 50 Advanced Chapters and Exclusive R-18 Content!
--------------------------------------
Update schedule: 7 Chapters/week
Every 100 power stones = 1 Extra Chapter
By voting with [power stones], you can easily get double the number of Chapters.