30 The Ascetic Part 1 (2/2)

This short-haired man had no expression. He wore a simple linen robe and was an extremely normal-looking commoner without anything unusual about his appearance. However, his martial skills were extraordinary. Sarah’s wealth of battlefield experience was ineffective before him. Her flexible sword was like a dead snake, no longer agile like before.

”Be careful, he is an ascetic!” Canghong had been slashed thrice by the heavily armored swordsman’s heavy sword. His body flew through midair, but he did not neglect to remind Sika of this. Sika was now their primary force, and Canghong realized that his gold coins had been well spent.

What was an ascetic? Sika blinked as her huge cudgel flew sideways to block the short-haired man’s attack on Sarah.

On the short-haired man’s hands were a pair of metal gloves which looked like the big hands used for constructing puppets. Sika’s cudgel struck this big pair of hands with such a tremendous sound that Sika was dizzied by the vibrations.

For the first time, she had lost to someone in terms of strength. In her tribe, even strongmen possessed less strength than her. This cudgel with a massive amount of kinetic energy had been blocked by a pair of normal-looking metal gloves.

The short-haired man displayed an astonished expression on his face. This girl was strong. Without this pair of gloves, he would likely be defeated in no time.

”Mage, come on out.” The short-haired man was not bothered by Sika, instead calling out to Saleen who was inside the Fog of Confusion.

Saleen refused to emerge. His awareness was exceptionally alert in the Fog of Confusion. This was a battle, not a competition of martial skills. Saleen was well aware that his skills would probably not do much harm to this ascetic. That pair of gloves was probably a high-level magical tool. This ascetic was practically indifferent to the lives and deaths of his compatriots. Saleen decided to kill the others first. As for this ascetic, things would come down to his own luck.

High-level magical tools required their users to be at least Grade 4. As this ascetic was of a much higher grade than himself, Saleen even had the urge to turn around and flee. However, Sika was holding the fort at the front, and he could not leave her behind.

Sika gave her numbed hands a shake. With a grave look, she began to speak in the Caucasus language. Saleen also knew the Caucasus language, but Sika’s dialect carried an intonation from a special region. He basically did not understand what Sika was mumbling. However, Saleen was certain that Sika was not scolding anyone. The rhythm of her voice was clear, and carried a mysterious energy.

As Sika chanted, scale patterns began to emerge from her huge cudgel. The patterns were dark green in color, and faint flashes of light seeped through the lines. The cudgel came alive, as though it had been filled with an aura.

The ascetic’s face grew ashen, and he yelped, ”Heresy! Put down your evil weapon and return with me. Obey Lord Oracle’s instruction.”

”You are sick!” Sika replied to the short-haired man in the mainland’s common language. She took a high leap, and delivered a blow with her cudgel.

The material of Sika’s weapon had come from an ancient magic beast. She had chanted a spell which was only used by Caucasus priests. This meant that Sika had received the blessings of the most senior priests. A common Caucasus warrior could not use any witchery.

Such an ability could only be bestowed upon someone by others. Progression was difficult to achieve, but it did not mean that such an ability was not strong. The cudgel had been revived by the chanting, and gave out a bellowing whine like the sound of the wind. The ascetic felt as though the weapon in the girl’s hand had suddenly become an evil monster volleying down upon him.

The ascetic was vigilant by nature. He bit the tip of his tongue, and spat a mouthful of blood on that pair of metal gloves. Blood red runes immediately appeared on the golden gloves. Saleen, who had been watching the battle, recognized them as holy prose.

Holy prose was not the words of the gods themselves, but were the words used to communicate between prose believers and the gods. Only devoted believers would receive the holy prose. In other words, such people did not need to visit a temple to pray, and had the ability to receive the blessings of the gods on their own.

An ascetic who knew holy prose! No matter what, he was not going to let this fellow get away. Saleen had forgotten about his fear at this moment, or rather, his fear had reached its peak. He had not been careful and had landed himself into one of the Holy See’s plans. This plan was obviously no small affair, since it had been entrusted to an oracle. If he did not get rid of the oracle’s people immediately, he would not need to wait for the people sent to kill him by Earl Sufonso. He would be killed in the Chaotic Swamp.

Out of their group of seven, one was dead, and there was no knowing how many of them in the squad would make it out of the Chaotic Swamp. Saleen began to chant a spell, trying to get his Grade 2 magic to reach its peak potential.

The Grade 2 spell that Saleen knew was the Ice Arrow spell. Be it speed, degree of penetration, or freezing capabilities, the power of an ice arrow was more than ten times stronger than that of an icicle.

Ordinarily, Saleen could cast a Grade 2 spell twice, but his ice arrows had been induced without being discharged and his magic chords continued to be exhausted while he waited for the best chance to act. Such a high-level deployment method was not only demanding on his magic chords, but was demanding on his mental power as well.

If a mage with low mental power attempted such a thing, the ice arrows would detonate directly in his hands, and the mage would freeze himself to death.