Vishanti Appears

Three missiles trailing blue energy tails struck the Ghosts that had just emerged, knocking them back a few inches. But the attack not only failed to make them lose their forms completely—it ignited their fury. They let out shrieks ordinary people could not hear, shattering the glass and tearing the yellow leaves, already barely clinging to the branches, from the treetops.

The amount of magic a person could use in a day was fixed, because everyone's Mental Power was limited. Casting spells required sufficient Mental Power to sustain them, much like consuming physical strength. Once depleted, Mental Power needed enough rest to recover. Salomon was already very close to that limit.

But mages always had solutions—after seeing that Magic Missile was not having much effect, he immediately grabbed Wong, who was leaning against the wall and gasping for breath, and turned to run. Surely no one could blame Salomon for fleeing without fighting. If you can't win, isn't running perfectly normal? Unfortunately, these Ghosts had no intention of letting Salomon leave their sight. The White Family heirloom was still in Salomon's pocket.

"I... I can run on my own!" Wong panted. Though he could not see them, he still forced his exhausted legs forward in a desperate sprint. He had read about what happened to people possessed by Ghosts, and the Ghosts pursuing them were clearly powerful Evil Spirits. What he wanted to know now was why the Venerable One had sent Salomon to retrieve these things. This was obviously beyond their ability to handle, and he did not expect to be as lucky as last time.

He dearly missed the soft chairs at the café, where he could sit comfortably and eat delicious pastries, instead of being covered in mud, weak in the legs, and struggling to breathe like he was now.

The two of them were fleeing in panic through a patch of wasteland in the suburbs. Neither had ever imagined they would end up in such a miserable state. Calling it a headlong rout would have been giving them too much credit—anyone who saw them, filthy and bedraggled, would know they were running for their lives.

As he ran, Salomon pulled a sheet of parchment from the pouch at his waist and tore it apart. Silver particles of magic clung to him before quickly vanishing. He took out another sheet of parchment and cast the same spell on Wong. Once he had finished, he immediately slowed down. After taking a few steps forward, he turned back and brought his hands together.

"Go!" Wong stopped when he saw Salomon stop, anxiety written all over his face. All he wanted now was to find a payphone and call Kamar-Taj for help. "What are you trying to do?!"

"Fight! Senior Brother Wong, they can't possess us now. We can go all out." Orange-red sparks burst between Salomon's palms. He separated his hands, and several lines made of sparks danced and shifted between them.

"What? Are you insane?" Wong's eyes widened.

"The Venerable One ordered that only we would know about this operation. We can't ask for help," Salomon said.

The three Rings could control the magic of the Vishanti. He absolutely could not let anyone else at Kamar-Taj learn of it. The Rings' purpose could be called a desecration of the Vishanti. If some of Kamar-Taj's hardliners found out, the Sorcerer Supreme's plan to eliminate Vishanti worship would be utterly ruined. Once something done in secret was brought into the open, there would be nothing the Venerable One could do without consequences.

Salomon fully supported the Sorcerer Supreme's plan. The patrons were not gods; the relationship between Archmages and patrons was merely transactional. From beginning to end, it was a relationship without gods. With the pride of the mages from the memories Salomon had inherited, he simply could not tolerate having a "god" constantly sitting above his head. If the Venerable One had not explained to him that his own magic could not compare to the endless magic of the Vishanti, he would have preferred to refine magic using his own life force.

He narrowed his eyes at the Ghosts surging madly toward them and continued moving his fingers. Magic Beams formed from Vishanti magic grew denser in his hands, and arcs of sparkling magical light took shape between Salomon's palms. This was the most powerful Flame Shaping spell he currently possessed. Whether because they had been strengthened by magic or because there were simply too many of them, from Salomon's perspective, pink light flickered around the Ghosts. That should have been the force keeping them in this world, yet black mist blanketed the ground beneath their feet.

"Thief... return..." Seeing Salomon stop, they issued their final warning. "Return... you... leave..."

As they gathered together, the black mist beneath their feet grew denser and the temperature dropped with it. On the street, still wet from a recent rain, the puddles froze into a thin white layer of ice.

"F*uck off!" Salomon hurled out the Magic Chain. Scorching Positive Energy magic leaped continuously between the Ghosts, hissing like red-hot iron against flesh. Countless Ghosts immediately stopped in their tracks and screamed in agony.

"Die..." They lunged at him, only to be met by a massive cleaver formed from solidified magic. Though Salomon was not particularly skilled in Baji Quan, he knew how to use a blade. He swung the spark-made cleaver viciously at a Ghost, slicing a crack through its body of Negative Energy. But the other Ghosts that followed immediately slammed into him and sent him tumbling several times.

Just as those Ghosts were about to pounce, a palm slammed one of them to the ground. After using secret arts, Wong could finally see the Ghosts clearly. When he saw Salomon in danger, he could no longer stand by. Empowered by the Protection Spell the Venerable One had compiled from other Grimoires, he used Tiger Pounce to save Salomon.

"What do we do now?" Wong asked anxiously after dragging Salomon out. His face was practically twisted into a knot. Since the Venerable One did not want anyone else to know about their operation, they could only resolve this themselves.

"I..." Salomon did not know what to do for a moment. These Ghosts were the strongest enemies they had encountered so far. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of icy air. When he opened them again, he had already made up his mind.

"Hold them off for a while, and I can deal with them." As Salomon spoke, he reached into his pocket. When he touched the other two Rings, the originally cold metal turned warm.

Wong nodded solemnly. Now that the Ghosts could no longer possess them, the magic he had learned was enough to stop them for a while. Salomon withdrew his hand from his pocket and opened his palm. The orange gemstone and pink gemstone on the other two Rings shone with a light that was impossible to look away from. He took another deep breath, then swiftly put the two Rings on the middle and ring fingers of his right hand.

In an instant, the warm metal became scorching hot, clinging tightly to his fingers like red-hot iron. Salomon could not help screaming.

"Salomon!" Wong hurriedly turned around. He saw Salomon collapse to his knees as flames made of magic engulfed him. The edges of his robes had already turned scorched yellow, and his long black curls were burned and twisted. Terrifying heat expanded the air and blasted Wong several steps backward.

The Ghosts were thrown into even greater chaos. The enormous amount of magic easily shattered their forms, and the skeletal remains formed from spiritual bodies disintegrated in the air, turning into the purest magic.

"Don't come near me!" Salomon shouted, but no one could understand him anymore. The heat had dried his throat and tongue beyond measure, while the scorching air had burned his lungs. Every word made him retch, coughing up thick, shapeless dark-red fluid. Yet his throat would soon become unbearably dry again, like rubbing sandpaper. Salomon could only utter slurred, incomprehensible sounds. Blisters had risen across the skin of his hands, and the blood that flowed out dried instantly. The sweat dripping from his forehead evaporated in an instant, while his lips tightened, cracked, and peeled. Then the heat intensified further, and Salomon howled again. Parts of his skin began to blacken and carbonize, and even the asphalt beneath his feet had melted soft. Severe dehydration and extreme heat plunged Salomon's mind into chaos. Wong saw his skin turn deeply scorched yellow, layer after layer becoming dry and brittle before falling away, exposing the bright-red muscle beneath, from which no blood could flow.

Even so, Salomon instinctively raised his head. Though he could no longer see anything, he knew that in the void invisible to ordinary people, where magic gathered, three faces had appeared.

A tiger, a man, and a woman.

Hoggoth, Agamotto, and Oshtur.

"F*uck you, Vishanti." Salomon raised his hand. He felt as though he could hear his dry bones and muscles grinding together, but the words he wanted to say never left his mouth. His vocal cords were covered in dried blood, and his tongue had stuck to his lower jaw with blood. He could not speak a single word.

With his last strength, Salomon undid the clasp of the Holy Shroud.

P.S. Fine, fine, I updated. You people should invest too, shouldn't you?

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