The Fourth Candidate of Death

At the same time that intelligence reached the mountaintop, the Witches on the mountainside also learned that the Sealing Ritual would begin ahead of schedule.

"A powerful Ring Arcanist wielding a sword?"

Rather than entering the mountain's interior to guard the seal, the Witches waited on the cliff where the passage entrance was located. Holding the parchment scroll, Miss Aurora looked at Grandma Cassandra beside her in surprise:

"Could this be—"

"It should be."

The Old Witch sat beside the bonfire, with Sister Devlin on the other side. The burning flames were the Primordial Fire; as long as this bonfire remained, the Interstice's anomalies could not affect them.

The Witches' followers and the nuns of the Order of Spiritual Cultivation were scattered around them, preparing to meet the next wave of undead attacks. Sister Devlin suddenly looked up at the sky, and the two Great Witches also frowned and looked overhead.

A huge black shadow above the dense fog gradually became clearer. Only then did they see that it was a skull as enormous as a Titan Giant, formed from countless densely packed dead souls, staring down at them.

The myriad wailing souls trembled irregularly. As the skull gradually became clearer, their terrifying expressions were reflected ever more distinctly in everyone's eyes. Even the bravest person could not bear to look directly at such a horrifying sight, but the two Witches did not care in the slightest.

Faintly visible in the skull's brow was a corporeal human figure. Miss Aurora narrowed her eyes to observe it, then gave a snort through her lovely nose:

"Joey Barton. How cliché. Does he think piling up numbers can defeat quality?"

She raised both hands and clapped twice.

"Young ladies, get ready to act."

She raised her right hand and snapped her fingers. Twelve