TALES OF A WITCHER - Season 5 Episode 15

Nightingale’s years of fighting experience kicked into gear, and her body immediately responded before she could even think.

She leaned back instinctively, and the silver light grazed her cheek. Even in the Mist, she could feel the immense power of the light—extraordinarily scorching and intense. After dodging the sudden attack, Nightingale tucked into a roll and distanced herself from her opponent.

“What… what’s happening, Lady Saint?” Rosad asked frantically.

“It seems like a rat has snuck in.” The witch licked her lips. “Find somewhere to hide and protect yourself.”

“You mean… there’s a witch here?!” The priest’s expression suddenly changed. “I’ll summon the Judgement Warriors!”

“No need. I haven’t hunted a witch for a long time. How could I let someone else have this priceless opportunity? Just stand by and watch me.”

Nightingale was observing the so-called Saint during the conversation. Although she knew that the church was probably secretly raising their own witches, it still broke her heart to see the proof of this theory. This witch had entirely owned by the church, she may even have a high rank, and it sounded like she enjoyed hunting witches and did not see herself as one of them.

Nightingale could not help but remember the determined eyes of the witch who attacked them at the harbor outside the King’s City and stabbed Wendy.

These people were no longer witches since they had chosen a completely different path.

With this thought in her mind, Nightingale did not hesitate to pull out her revolver—although she hated this kind of battle, she had no choice but to kill to stop the killing.

“Where do you come from?” The Saint tilted her head and stared towards where Nightingale was standing. “If the priest can’t see you, you have the power to conceal yourself; if you can dodge my attacks, you have been trained for battle or you have fought in many wars. Either way, it’s quite rare for wild witches like you.”

“Wherever I come from is none of your business,” Nightingale said coldly. She noticed the ribbon that blindfolded the opponent, and it was what a blind person would do. The “silver whip” in the Saint’s hand was still curled by her side with its tip raised like a snake, waving at her.

Only magic power displayed color in the Mist. Was she using this strange whip to locate her?

“Maybe you are not aware, but the church has crowned a new Pope who is compassionate, forgiving, and believes that even wild witches deserve to be saved. As long as you are willing to serve the Lord, the church can cleanse your sins off and accept you as a Pure Witch,” the Saint said with her hand on her chest. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. If you didn’t come alone and are accompanied by other fallen witches, you can all go to the Holy City of Hermes together to seek your rebirth.”

“Wow, that sounds great.” Nightingale chuckled. “But if awakening as a witch is a sin, and you had a way of cleansing it, why would you establish this law now instead of helping all my lost sisters from the beginning? Do you think I’m a toddler who has never heard a blatant lie before?”

She inhaled deeply and narrated. “I have not sinned!”

As she said this, Nightingale broke out of the Mist and pulled the trigger, and the barrel erupted in flames with a thunderous roar.

The “silver whip” immediately flicked upwards and blocked it off the Saint, spewing sparks everywhere. Then, the tip of the whip relaxed and tossed a twisted metal nugget onto the ground which was the bullet that Nightingale just shot.

This thing could block a flintlock!

“Oh?” Her opponent raised her eyebrow. “What kind of weapon is this?” Her voice cooled down suddenly. “I’ve changed my mind. It looks like you’ll be dying here tonight.”

The silver light lunged towards Nightingale once again, this time it was divided into dozens of whips that completely surrounded her.

Nightingale used her Mist to swiftly back away. Unlike common objects, the whips containing magic power were immune to the Mist, so she couldn’t pass through them and could only try to avoid them. However, her enemy’s range of attack was far too big, and the silver light struck by her side. She felt a slight numbness on her shin and she lost her balance, crashing onto the ground. The magic whips pierced into the ground behind her and pulverized the stone floor into dust. If she had been hit directly, she would have immediately lost her fighting power.

Nightingale ignored the wound on her shin and shot all the bullets in her gun at once from the ground.

The silver whips recoiled and turned into a spinning band of light, blocking all the bullets.

She knew she had no time to reload her bullets in the Mist and that once she wasn’t able to hold off her enemy with her flintlock, she would be in huge trouble—it was too cramped to distance herself from her enemy, and not being able to dodge any attacks would only shrink her range of movement. She pulled out another gun in a panic, shot all the bullets randomly and ducked into the Mist, and fell two stories down through the floor.

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“She escaped!” The Saint screamed. “Summon the Judgement Army to lock down the church, and send guards to the Marquess’ cell as well since the witch might be here to see her!”

“Escaped?” Rosad glanced around him, not seeing any damage in the doors nor secret exits. “Through what?”

“The walls, the ceiling, or the floorboards—her powers go way beyond invisibility. There isn’t any magic power left in the room!” The Pure Witch gnashed her teeth and said, “Do exactly what I told you to, She’s injured and won’t make it too far. Tell all your men to put on the God’s Stone of Retaliation bolts!”

“Yes!”

After the priest left hurriedly, the Pure Witch immediately collapsed helplessly to the floor, her hands trembling powerlessly.

Damn, what kind of weapon is this?

Her abilities were all-powerful, and her defense power, the magic light that could block any attack, was seen as the strongest among Pure Witches—no sword or bolt could ever penetrate it.

In order to strengthen her powers, she was constantly using her magic light. After more than ten years, she was able to carry such an immense amount of magic power that hundreds of arrows were futile, and she had never exhausted her magic power due to blocking anything.

However, her opponent’s attack drained her magic power instantly, and she was no longer able to even maintain her abilities. She felt an extreme fatigue that she hadn’t experienced in years.

“I must get my hands on this Fallen Witch, dead or alive,” she thought vengefully.