Chapter 690: Beneath the Bloodied Table
"D-Don’t enter!"
Despite her plea and the mana she blasted against the door to keep it shut, it creaked open, unaffected by her resistance.
Adam felt the wood grow heavier, sprouting stakes that splintered the ground to stop him, as sharp like a thousand needle thorns tried to pierce his palm. They reeked of mustiness, coated with lethal toxins that could put even a towering beast to sleep in a matter of seconds. But not him.
He clenched his fist, crushing the needles that couldn’t pierce his skin. Slightly off, crunching noises echoed. But he dismissed them to focus on the door. Met with his unparalleled strength, the stakes gouged the floor with unsettling rattles.
The witch’s voice reverberated in pleas, excuses, and threats—all diversions he ignored. Instead, his right hand blurred to swat the wooden darts whistling towards his face while his feet stomped on emerging spikes, shattering them like powerless branches.
With each spell he destroyed, his curiosity grew a little more. Like William, she was an archmage. Unlike him, however, she seemed to channel her mana through existing entities in a symbiotic way. Not only did their natural resilience and potency increase, but she also granted them new effects, which revealed deep botanical knowledge and splendid control.
Eager to learn her secrets, he watched the interior unravel, the curved walls on the right side first. A fireplace, from which a ventilation pipe extended across the wall, crackled near a vermilion carpet. On it, a reclining chair covered in multicolored woollen scarves and loose tunics of different sizes almost toppled under their weight.
He frowned, wondering if she had a habit of losing and gaining weight, but nodded at the cosy place as he continued to push.
The center almost made him feel like he had stepped into another house... except maybe for the parchments sprawled on the floor and broad table. Even worse, the sight of utensils tossed aside like mere disposable items appalled him.