Meanwhile, back at the monastery.
At first, when that big crowd surged into the Amazon neighborhood, the witches barely batted an eye. After all, the Amazons weren't exactly saints—bossy, bullying troublemakers were getting payback from angry debt collectors, or else the relatives of men forced into "seed giving" showing up for revenge. Stuff like this happened all the time.
They'd seen it all before, gotten used to it, didn't really care. Heck, even Andny sometimes sent her mosquito familiars to eavesdrop, hoping to catch a juicy scandal.
Everyone stayed relaxed—until Charles's warning came through. The instant each witch received his message, they suddenly became aware of the quiet, creeping danger heading their way.
Hattie rushed to find Andny, instructing her to have familiars alert the other sisters, and also to scout for any hidden threats in the area.
Very quickly, the witches gathered in the small chapel beneath the life goddess's statue to strategize.
"Everyone's gotten the Master's direct message, right?"
With Charles gone, the strongest witch present, Theresa, naturally assumed leadership: "Master has sensed a powerful enemy has just arrived near the monastery—he's hiding somewhere in that mob."
"Based on his assessment, this guy is almost certainly a subordinate sent by Archdevil Mephistopheles—extremely dangerous. That means we need to end this threat, fast!"
She summed it up grimly. Next to her, Sephera put on a mask of sudden realization, nodding respectfully: "Eldest Sister's right—so what's the plan?"
Theresa glanced sharply at Hattie before replying: "As Master said, this foe is a serious danger. No one leaves the monastery—stay put and don't let anyone disturb the battle nuns at rest."
"I'll go myself, hunt that bastard down, and run him out! Once the main threat's destroyed, the small fry won't matter."
Her thinking was simple: brute force this just like always—rely on her own overwhelming strength to crush the problem.
But this time, things were different. As Theresa was about to move, someone objected.
"Wait!" Hattie called out. "Theresa, don't rush in!"
She swept her gaze around. "Everyone, I think we should work together and play to our strengths, instead of just relying on Eldest Sister alone."
Her eyes landed on the rest. Andny caught the hint first. "Right—the ones stirring up trouble aren't the only issue. We've got things to contribute too; let's not sit out the fight."
Sophia nodded—it made sense. "We can use magic to support Eldest Sister. That much I can definitely do."
Ekta raised her hand. "I... my spellcasting's improved lately. I can handle a few things as well."
Only Ruth seemed hesitant. She mumbled, "Compared to Eldest Sister... uh, never mind. I'll just listen."
She sensed she might've read the room wrong, and since she was on Hattie's team, wisely kept quiet.
Seeing everyone back her up, Hattie relaxed. "So we should assign tasks that fit each of us."
She turned to Andny: "Your familiars should already be in motion. What's the report?"
Andny nodded. "There are three issues: One, the angry debt collectors targeting the Amazons—Master's major threat is hiding there;"
"Two, a gang of huge sewer rats, stealing food from the Amazons' storage behind the houses—not a big danger;"
"And three, a group of worms acting outside my command, probably under a rival mage's control. I can handle them myself."
Hattie nodded. "So let's all move out—and cover our targets."
She turned to Sephera: "Your job is to deal with the debt crowd. Shout 'em off if you can, knock 'em out with poison if you can't."
Sephera raised an eyebrow, about to protest Hattie's command, but seeing the serious faces on the others—and the icy stare from Hattie—she realized this was real, not just a power play. She gritted her teeth and kept her complaints inside: "Understood."
Hattie continued, "Ekta, Andny, you handle the worms and the rats. Tame what you can, kill the rest—no mercy for pests!"
Both nodded. Hattie took a deep breath and turned to Ruth, the "Bladewitch": "Ruth, you're good at stealth. Go conceal yourself, watch the mob, and if you spot anyone acting too weird—take them out, no mercy."
Her tone was full of murderous intent—the old, ruthless witch was back. When Master was threatened, there was no place left for sympathy or kindness.
Ruth gave a solemn nod. She thought to herself, "Priest Charles has done so much for these people, and now they come for him, manipulated by devils? Pathetic." Her urge to kill was rising—if she started, there'd be a bloodbath tonight.
"I'll guard the monastery gates," Hattie added. "Eldest Sister, Sophia, and I will stay here and await your signals—no one moves until we know what we're facing."
"The enemy knows exactly where we are—we're in the open and they're hidden. We need to flip that, force them to show themselves so we can hit back with a killing blow!"
Theresa and Sophia nodded, no argument there. Hattie breathed easier. "Most likely, this is all aimed at us—stay sharp, keep on your toes. We won't let Priest Charles be shamed!"
All the witches answered as one: "Got it!"
And they split up to carry out their tasks. Andny remained seated, already chanting—her spellcasting had skyrocketed lately, and within the monastery she didn't even need her own worms to physically intervene. Magic alone let her forcibly seize control of their minds.
Even when fighting a rival mage, her raw talent let her strip away enemy influence at a blistering pace!
Wormlord or not, tonight she only cared about Charles's safety, her usual patience for vermin gone. Any resistance? Overpower it with magic. If a worm so much as hesitated, she'd sic her personal swarm on it and wipe it out—no hesitation.
Of course, the rival spellcaster retaliated in kind. In places the public never saw, a microscopic, silent, bloody war raged among the insects...
As Andny micromanaged dozens of worms in shadow-battles, Ekta circled around to the back of the Amazons' housing.
With the inborn Darkvision of a witch, she quickly found the giant rats, skulking about and tearing open bags. The Flame Witch was instantly enraged. With no warning, her hand shot out and a Fire Bolt lanced straight at the nearest rat.
Whoosh—
You know what they say: fur burns fast. Ekta's Fire Bolt hit home, igniting the fur instantly.
Flames burst across its back; the air filled with the stench of burning meat and garbage, accented by the sharp squeal of the rat: "Eee-eee—Ow! I'm on fire! I'm dying!"
It peed itself in terror, the stench spreading everywhere—an alarm signal to the rest of its kind!
The panic pheromones and shrieks rippled through the horde: "We've been discovered! Run, run!"
"Fire! It's burning!"
"Get to the sewers! Sewers!"
They scrambled, squeaking broken Common from rat mouths. Ekta frowned. "Who the hell taught rats to talk?"
No time to worry about that. Seeing the rats scattering, she took a deep breath and began casting Scorching Ray, launching bolt after burning bolt—
Pew, pew, pew—
The rats were fast, making Ekta's aim a little off, but a Flame Witch with limitless mana could fire ten, twenty bolts without breaking a sweat.
Her barrage blanketed the entire field. Even if most missed, enough hit and set the fur of every thieving wererat ablaze.
Screams, the overwhelming scent of burnt hair, and a general panic swept the battlefield—Ekta had it wrapped up in no time.
Behind the scenes, the hidden Pied Piper shook his head: mutated rats were quick to breed but useless in a fight. If he wanted to weaponize them, more work was needed.
But under Ekta's fire, the threat was dealt with lightning fast.
While Ekta fought in the shadows behind the complex, Sephera moved to confront the rampaging slum residents, just as Hattie directed.
She heard wave after wave of angry shouting: "My father's waiting for a doctor, but you Amazons haven't paid up in weeks! Have you ever even had a dad, or do you just not get what it's like?!"
"Ugh, Hama, you slut, seducing my husband is one thing but my son too? Have you got no shame?!"
"Look, I don't care, we settle this tonight! Don't think we're pushovers!"
On and on—the yelling never let up. Sephera's mood grew heavier.
Frankly, a lot of them had very good reasons—serious motivation.
But for the safety of the monastery, she couldn't afford to care.
Taking a deep breath, she realized words alone wouldn't calm them; the enemy had stoked the crowd to a fever pitch. This called for magic.
She began chanting quietly, and soon a narcotic mist seeped out, winding through the group. It was late, after all, and most folks were already tired after a long day.
The hypnotic mist hit like a charm. People's tempers faded, replaced by yawns, heavy eyes, and droning fatigue.
Sephera knew this was her opening. She stepped forward, eyebrows raised, and barked, "Ever heard of bedtime? Huh?!"
Her sharp voice slashed through the crowd: "Can't this wait until morning? You picked this time on purpose just to keep the neighborhood up, didn't you?!"
"Think about it—you aren't tired? You figure no one else has work in the morning? What good can you do at this hour anyway? Come back tomorrow!"
"Everyone—go home!"
Her scolding, coupled with the drifting haze, took the wind out of everyone's sails. People tried to protest, but could only yawn, rub their eyes, and grumble, "Fine, call it off for tonight."
"Let's go, it's freezing anyway."
"Yeah, let the cold wind finish what the yelling started..."
Within moments, the mob scattered like leaves. Relieved, Sephera squinted, scanning for the hidden enemy.
And then, her Sending Stone glowed—Charles's urgent voice: "Careful! The target's near Malena's house!"
Sephera stiffened, then, using her Darkvision, saw in the distance—a hunched old woman standing right outside Malena's doorway!
Her heart raced—a worm dropped to her ear, and Andny's voice followed: "Previous assumption was off. This one's not after the nuns—"
"Hattie suspects she's actually targeting Lisa. Let's play dumb and circle in—hit her all together!"
Sephera took a sharp breath. "Roger that!"
Outside Malena's house, Sulpharlo—disguised as the old crone—stared at the door's lock, cursing internally.
This... is a lot trickier than I expected.
Who would've thought Malena's door was enchanted with magical protection?
Did she add this herself, for her family's safety?
Maybe, maybe not, but now that there's a magic lock standing in her way, it was impossible to just sneak in and snatch the mother and daughter away.
And with all her allies scattered or routed, and the abnormal commotion almost certain to attract Charles's attention, it looked like everything she'd planned tonight was about to go up in smoke!
She clenched her fists in frustration, but forced herself calm, and began probing at the magic with spells—when suddenly, a spike of danger hit her, hard.
She froze, heart pounding, scanning the dark with razor focus.
Who's watching me?
Did those people already spot me?
Annoyance bubbled up. She cursed her luck. But with grit rising, she steeled herself—fine! If they were onto her, then she'd just snatch her target by force!
Abandoning all subtlety, she raised her hand—a jet of fire flared out as a massive, blazing black greatsword materialized in her grip!
Meanwhile, Ruth had been tracking Sulpharlo's movements from the shadows. She'd just received fresh orders from Charles and Hattie, the desire to kill boiling in her veins.
And the instant she saw Sulpharlo wave her arm and summon that flaming blade, Ruth's eyes went wide. She couldn't wait any longer—she darted forward, razor-sharp, purple-red claws aiming straight for the woman's throat!
Time seemed to stretch. Sulpharlo looked back coldly, dark-red eyes brimming with ruthless intent—she'd seen Ruth coming all along. "Die."
With a single motion—faster than Ruth could follow—the monstrous greatsword stabbed forward and punched straight through Ruth's chest!
Shk—!
Ruth's eyes flew wide. Even at her prideful speed, she couldn't even touch the enemy—she was outclassed, totally.
The gap in power was absolute. Even though witches don't have organs in the usual sense, getting pierced through the chest was still a grievous wound.
This foe was way too strong—no chance of winning alone!
That thought crashed into her mind, and Ruth managed to jerk her head up and yell, "Theresa—!"
Her agonized scream split the night. Back at the monastery, everyone's faces turned grim. If Ruth, usually the toughest among them, was calling for help, things were dire.
"Sophia!"
Hattie signaled the Memory Witch, who began casting "Haste"—a powerful magic buff surged into Theresa, not the most optimal spell, but a massive boost to speed and overall combat strength.
Theresa immediately leapt through the air, her body turning into a white-hot streak as she dashed toward Ruth—leaving everyone behind.
"Crap!"
Sulpharlo cursed and dropped the act, vaulting straight up—her flesh split open, revealing a pair of dark-red wings bursting from her shoulders.
Her disguise fell away: she was no hunched crone, but a stunningly beautiful woman, skin pale as snow, clad in tight white armor that accentuated her impressive, curvaceous figure. Angelic wings spread wide—she looked like the very embodiment of purity and majesty.
On the ground, Ruth could only stare. From above, as Theresa's streak of light arrived and she saw Sulpharlo's true form, even she was stunned—her readied spell flickering out.
That… that's an angel?!
How? Why would this be happening?
What did we do wrong? Why would a noble, holy angel harbor hatred for Priest Charles? How could a messenger from Mount Celestia, a sword of the gods, show up before us as our enemy?
For a moment, both witches stood paralyzed, unable to comprehend. Before they could act, the angel snatched her burning greatsword from the air.
Turning, she gripped the fiery blade with both hands and brought it down hard—
BOOM—!
Malena's front door split apart with a thunderous crash. Jolted out of their daze, the witches' eyes filled with a murderous light.
So what if you're an angel?
If you dare go against Priest Charles, then even the gods' chosen blade will fall tonight!
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