Witch Troupe and the Undead

In a sense, its performance is similar to the Little Witch's normal abilities, but the core is completely different. This is because incantations are also a very rigorous academic achievement. Spells, mediums, and magic have a strict correspondence, and there can be no slight difference.

But Natalia... is a Decepticon sorceress. Well, she's the only Decepticon at the moment. She was expelled because her mentor couldn't understand how she cast spells. Oh, the incomprehension here doesn't mean her spellcasting techniques are very sophisticated, but rather that she has her own school of thought—I just chant the incantation, and what spells are cast is up to fate.

Her advisor couldn't understand why she could make such ridiculous mistakes, and each time the mistakes were different. It was like when doing 1+1=?, this girl could write eight hundred different answers, to the point that you couldn't figure out how she completed the derivation at all, so she was expelled.

If Livia's spellcasting is like directly pulling out the reference answer and copying it, other mages are doing normal deduction, and wizards are summarizing past exam questions, then Miss Natalia's spellcasting is like finding a few dice, rolling them to decide which answer to choose.

However, even though she was expelled from the wizarding profession, she was still a wizard, a noble spellcaster, and a very rare wizarding profession in the southern continent. Therefore, the knights and soldiers in the territory had great faith in her, after all, she could really throw fireballs, but... he himself was not sure whether the spell he threw would be a fireball or something else.

Chapter 155 I'll Draw a Circle to Curse You (Little Witch Version)

A short figure wandered through Tallinn, occasionally tripping over the bricks and stones left from the battle and letting out a soft gasp. His light golden hair shone with a holy light in the moonlight, and his pointed hat, several sizes larger than his head, swayed with each step, the brand-new green bow on the hat fluttering its wings.

The little witch took out a small piece of soul essence from her waist pocket, pinched a strand of hair between her fingers, and with a little force, a light golden hair was pulled out. The moment the hair touched the silver gem, it merged into it, melting into a light golden mass. After absorbing the soul power of the silver gem, it transformed into a blurry, small figure.

"Plop!" The silver gem fell with a soft sound, then gradually sank into the ground. Bright red fragments rose from the soil, outlining a long line. If viewed from above, these lines gradually formed a pentagram.

The pentagram's tip began to fork, bending to both sides into a circle, with the center of the circle being where the little witch dropped the gem.

The crimson mist remaining in the city was continuously absorbed into the lines, and soon the thin mist disappeared without a trace. At this moment, the little witch stopped by the stone pillar in the center of the town, supporting herself on her knees. Her little face was flushed and covered with fine beads of sweat.

After resting for a while, she took out the blood gem, loosened her fingers, and let the rare life essence fall to the ground, activating the entire ritual array. Then she sat down under the stone pillar, closed her eyes somewhat sleepily, and seemed to be preparing to take a nap there.

Black Horse was immediately alarmed and pulled her up. Facing her confused emerald eyes, Old Horse cautiously said, "Sleeping here will make you catch a cold."

"Tired~" The little witch frowned, indicating that she was very tired.

"Well, at least I can sleep in a room." Old Ma looked around and chose a complete house, kicking the door open. "I'll stay here temporarily."

“…Hmm.” Livia rummaged in her skirt pocket, found a few coins, placed them by the door, and then went inside. She collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep without even taking off her shoes.

Hell, the realm of bones, the courtyard of flesh and blood.

The Blood Queen carefully trimmed a flower made of muscle, nerves, and skin with a pair of bone scissors. In the center of the petals, which were made of fleshy membranes, was a distorted and terrifying woman's face, which kept opening and closing its mouth, emitting a painful and desperate, lifeless wail.

"Achoo!" The Queen sneezed, and the flowers in front of her withered at an alarming speed. A look of relief appeared on her face, which made the Great Demon completely uneasy. "A cold? Impossible. I've never heard of demons getting sick?"

It's just a bare skeleton, without any organs, so how could it possibly catch a cold?

However, it soon sneezed again, and the well-fixed flesh and blood began to become extremely unstable. With one sneeze, its eyeballs even flew out of their sockets.

Following a series of sneezes came waves of nausea, vomiting, and dizziness. Then, the sub-lord-level great demon began to vomit violently, expelling the life essence it had absorbed as red gem fragments, which were quickly absorbed by the vines and flesh on the ground.

"No, something's wrong, this is... a curse!? How can it be so strong!" The curse was initially blocked by the demon's resistance, so it only caused a few sneezes. However, as the curse's power quickly exceeded the demon's resistance, it developed into dizziness and vomiting. Even the life essence (blood gem) that I had ingested could not compensate for the effects and damage of this curse.

"Ugh!" Under the horrified gazes of those blood demons, the entire courtyard, composed of living flesh and blood, was constantly collapsing and withering. The flesh and blood turned into pus, and a concept of plague was rampaging wildly in this courtyard composed of concepts and powers, infecting all tangible flesh and blood.

Even the white bone trees were gradually stained black. The Blood Queen was astonished to see her own flesh and skin decaying, and large black spots appearing on her jade-colored bones. In fact, her entire skeleton was becoming increasingly brittle.

"A plague curse? How outrageous is that!?"

The essence of a curse is "substitution." For example, a plague curse requires a plague as material and is transferred to a specific target through itself or something else. In other words, it is not something that can be established simply by saying "I curse you to XXX." If you curse someone to get the plague, you yourself must be infected with the same plague.

In other words, all curse spells are harmful to both the caster and the caster. Only those who are prepared to perish together can use curse spells. Or rather, curse spells were originally developed because the lower classes in ancient times hoped that those in power could "empathize" with them. Therefore, curses in this world are like biological weapons, belonging to the category of "nuclear bombs for the poor."

For the poor in the slums, being covered in sores, starving and freezing, and neither human nor ghost is just a statement. But for the nobles, it is a living hell. If they use this as a medium to cast a curse, the cursed target will immediately feel the pain they suffer. Both will fester all over, become icy cold, and weaken and decay together until one or both can no longer bear it and die.

Killing is never the effect of the curse; torment is. Pain is not the root of the curse; hatred is. As a great demon, the Blood Queen understands this very well, and therefore, she cannot comprehend the curse upon herself.

What kind of plague can even infect the great demon? What kind of plague physique is the one that released the curse? Half of its flesh garden has rotted away.

This courtyard is the prototype of the demon's divine kingdom, but a manifestation of its power, just like the shadow sub-plane summoned under Old Ma's feet. This means that nearly half of its power has been destroyed and lost. At this rate, let alone the position of sub-lord, even the position of ordinary great demon will soon be lost.

Fortunately, before it was about to completely despair, the plague gradually subsided and eventually returned to calm. If the person who cast the curse hadn't died, then he must have recovered. The Blood Queen guessed that the curse caster was dead, but if he was cured... then she really had to ask: What kind of disease was that?!

"Achoo!" Livia rubbed her nose, expressionlessly pulled out a bottle of herbs prepared by Roach to boost immunity and enhance resistance, and drank it. The bitter taste made her involuntarily stick out her tongue before sitting up. The little silver gemstone figure next to her pillow had cracked, and the runes on its surface had completely lost their luster.

It was clear that the medium for the curse had been destroyed, meaning the curse was over, which left Livia slightly disappointed, as she had thought it could last a little longer.

In the territory of Loum, Miss Natalia, freed from the ordeal of etiquette lessons, smoothly received a letter delivered by a swift hawk. "Infiltrators of the Hell Order? Inside the castle and within the territory?" Natalia read the contents in surprise. "Tallinn City destroyed? And Uncle is gone too!?"

She felt that she hadn't just skipped a boring etiquette class, but rather skipped a huge segment of her life. She felt that there should be at least several years between the peaceful yesterday and the chaotic today.

"Miss……?"

"Oh, send a messenger to summon the knights of the territory; cultists have infiltrated our ranks."

The girl's bottom twisted and turned on the cold, hard stone throne, unable to find a suitable spot. She wondered how Old Deng had managed to sit on that chair for so long. It was cold, hard, and uneven, making her little bottom ache. Oh, Old Deng was wearing armor, so it was alright.

Even though she was a noble lady from a lord's family, Natalia didn't have any wizard-specific equipment because it was too expensive for her to afford. Wizard equipment and arcane equipment were two different things.

It's not that one is more advanced than the other, but mainly in the Southern Continent, the mainstream practitioners are mages, not wizards. So, as everyone knows, regardless of quality or performance, imported products are always more expensive than local products.

Even in the Northern Continent, wizards are not the mainstream spellcasters. There are just more of them compared to the Empire, enough to support a portion of the blacksmiths and alchemists who serve them, thus providing a relatively stable output. Even so, the price of their equipment is at least 50% higher than that of the arcane sorcerers.

Unfortunately, in this era between handicrafts and automated industries, economies of scale are indeed a factor to consider. Natalia simply donned a thick cloak and some light leather armor before heading out. A wizard's entire spellcasting ability lies in his words, or rather, over 90% of his magical power resides in the materials used in his spells, with the remainder in his words. Therefore, wearing armor does not affect his spellcasting ability.

Witchcraft is an ancient variant of arcane magic that relies entirely on incantations to cast spells. Most witches don't really understand why the incantations work, and they develop their own unique philosophical worldviews to explain this phenomenon. As for how much guidance this explanation provides for actual spellcasting, that's something Miss Natalia wouldn't know, because she's a reckless witch.

“Miss, all the people you requested have arrived.” The head guard nodded to her. The head guard, Kanger, was a bald, middle-aged, burly man; Natalia was not even as tall as his chest hair.

This incredibly robust highland barbarian warrior wore only a breastplate, revealing his tough, hairy body. A massive axe, at least two meters long, stood beside him, its blade even wider than Natalia's entire body.

Behind him were several other territorial knights who were temporarily available. Their armor was rusty and covered with patches of various sizes carved as decorative emblems. Only their weapons gleamed coldly, exuding a chilling aura. Anyone with a little knowledge of the area would know that these were weapons that had seen blood, not just decorations hanging on the wall.

“My father said that there is a Hell Order active in the territory. They have already destroyed Uncle’s city of Tallinn, and we are probably their next target.” The knights exchanged glances. Although they had never heard of a Hell Order in the territory, since their old lord had said so, it probably was.

They weren't going to think about it too much anyway. These knights were originally adventurers and mercenaries who followed Count Talos, so their thoughts were simple: Cultists? Where are they? Kill a few?

Natalia didn't know where the Hellish Cult was, but her father's letter mentioned the castle dungeon, so they were probably hiding there.

Roum Castle is a very old castle, or rather, the ruins of a castle from a "glorious era." The current Roum Castle was built on the foundation of these ruins.

Even from the outside, you can tell which part was repaired by the distinct colors and completely different degrees of weathering and water erosion between the rough gray-white wall and the irregularly undulating bluish-black wall about 2 meters above the ground.

Normal castle craftsmen would plaster a layer of mortar on the outside to prevent the castle, which was repeatedly repaired and rebuilt, from looking like a beggar's tattered clothes. However, as mentioned before, Count Talos didn't have much money, so he didn't hire anyone to do this kind of work that was purely for aesthetic purposes and wasted money.

The castle's dungeons hadn't been used for a long time. The prisoners were kept in the quarry camp near Iron Shield Fortress, which was perfect for labor. The food production in the territory of Lum was basically zero. Apart from mushrooms from the mines and some things gathered from the forest, everything was imported. There was really no spare money to support people who were just eating prison food.

So when Natalia said that, the other knights thought about it for a while and also felt that it made sense.

Ironshield Fortress is a standard "Pioneering Age" structure, consisting of a low, sturdy, and permanently fortified fortress at its core. Two walls, one high and one low, form the inner and outer city areas. The inner city is extremely narrow, only able to accommodate some necessary facilities and military camps, but being inside the high walls of the castle, it is much safer.

The outer city's "walls" were only 1.5 meters high, made of stone, wood, and mortar. They didn't even have gates, only wooden barricades for protection. The outer city consisted of shacks, tents, and a few warehouses, serving as both a market and a so-called "castle town." Naturally, it could only accommodate a small population.

Most of the people actually live in villages in the quarry and on the northern hillside. Although it is called an earldom, the size of the entire territory is actually only equivalent to that of a barondom, and the population is considered to be below average for a barondom.

The title of Earl of Talos was largely due to the gimmick of being the "Last Knight of the Frontier." The Empire gave him a promotion, after all, there is a difference between expanding territory and inheriting ancestral blessings. It is normal to make corresponding compensation in terms of title for deficiencies in actual territory.

If you're looking for a place in Ironshield Keep where cultists can hide without being discovered, besides hiding in the Black Forest or the mines on the hillside, the only other option is inside the castle. The abandoned dungeons are an excellent choice—no one usually visits a lord's dungeon, and the castle's intricate network of secret passages can provide concealed entrances and exits.

“The dungeon? Then we can’t bring too many people.” Kanger shook his head, stopping his servant from sounding the rallying horn. “Just the few of us are enough. It’s very narrow down there, not suitable for a large force to advance.” He was a mercenary leader who had followed the old lord here to explore the area, and he had gone down there to clear out the undead creatures and slime monsters in the dungeon before.

Slime monsters, creatures that live in underground water, love to invade places like sewers, dungeons, and water prisons. So, if you don't clean up this abandoned castle properly and seal the gaps where the slime monsters can seep in, your toilet will soon be filled with foul-smelling slime.

Kangor didn't bring his huge axe, but instead used a standard short axe. The other knights also switched to short swords. They were all ordinary metal weapons. There was no other way; the territory of Rum was extremely poor, and no one had a second magical weapon to exchange for.

The dungeon was located on the side of the castle, and the entrance door was locked with intertwined chains. Natalia took out a rusty key and inserted it into the lock. As the key turned, the chains slid to the ground.

Kanger gestured to the two knights behind him, then carefully pushed open the heavy iron-inlaid wooden door. A musty, rotten smell wafted out, and a thick layer of dust covered the ground. Behind the door was a downward staircase, which descended several dozen steps before turning a ninety-degree angle and continuing downward.

The torches on the wall were still relatively dry. Natalia brought her fingers close to the torches, her lips moved a few times, and a small flame lit the torches. This kind of trick, which couldn't be called magic, was the only witchcraft she had that wouldn't go wrong.

The essence of witchcraft is closer to that of alchemy; it is about exchange (not equal value). In Natalia's understanding, spells are simply bargaining. The more eloquent a witch is, the more she understands the "witchcraft materials" being exchanged, and the closer she gets to a 1:1 exchange ratio.

Natalia felt that she might be the one with absolutely no business acumen, unable to persuade the "god of witchcraft" in the dark, and could only engage in shady transactions, exchanging money for goods, without knowing what those goods were.

She even suspected that the magic tricks didn't go wrong not because she truly understood them, but because at this "price range," there was no room for unscrupulous merchants to cheat, so they remained authentic.

“I have a feeling…” Natalia looked at the dark staircase and thought, “Could it be that the great source of witchcraft thinks I’m stupid and is just throwing some random thing at me to fool me?”

Chapter 156 Someone actually stole the title of "Explosive Kid"!?

After descending three sloping stairs, they finally reached the true entrance to the dungeon, a small stairwell of less than five square meters. On the rotten wooden racks on the walls were only a few dry ropes. The head guard, Kanger, who was at the front, carefully extended his left hand.

Instead of his palm, he pressed his forearm against the door, his right hand hanging down at his waist, his upper arm close to his body, and his gloved hand gripping the hilt of the short sword rather than the handle, allowing the slender blade to peek out from between his fingers. He looked every bit the mercenary who had done plenty of dirty work.

Using the door as a shield and his short sword as a fist, he slowly pried the door open with a slight exertion of his body. If there were ranged attacks from enemies behind the door, he could immediately close the door as a shield, and his sideways stance greatly reduced his projected area.

If someone is lying in ambush behind the door, you can quickly thrust out your right short sword to give your opponent a little surprise. Even if the opponent is wielding a long weapon, your right hand, which is covered by an arm shield, arm guards, and iron gauntlets, can also be used as a shield.

When short weapons are used against long weapons, the difficulty is completely different depending on whether there is a shield or not, and whether it is a small shield or a large shield. Using a single sword against a spear without skill is suicidal, but using a sword and shield against a spear is much simpler, especially the combination of a Roman large shield and a short sword, which is another level of ease. A single charge and smash with the shield can solve most of the difficulties of short weapons.

"Squeak~" The old door hinges made a grating sound, startling a few skinny rats. Behind the door was just an ordinary guard room of less than 20 square meters. On one side of the guard room was a weapon rack covered with cobwebs, and on the wall hung completely rusted and broken torture instruments. Only the wooden table in the center looked relatively intact.

Opposite the guardhouse is a double iron door, with rusted iron chains wrapped around it several times. Through the gaps in the iron door, you can see a short staircase leading down, no more than five or six steps, before reaching the dungeon railings.

“No one has been here.” Natalia placed the lantern she was holding on the wooden table, illuminating the entire guard room. The dust on the floor was a finger's width thick; if someone had been here, they would have left footprints.

"I'm afraid they didn't enter through this entrance." Kanger's expression wasn't as calm as hers. In fact, judging from the slight twitching of the fat on his face, many of his men realized that their boss had probably discovered something amiss.

"Be vigilant; there are definitely cult members around here."

"Boss, no, Lord Kanger, how did you know?" a knight asked curiously. He had walked around a few times with his shield and short sword but hadn't noticed anything amiss. Then someone kicked him in the shin, gesturing for him to look down. Kanger, too, looked down at the legs of the wooden table and remained silent.

"What did you find, Uncle Kanger?"

Saying "there are cultists" is like saying "there's something supernatural about it." If we had already told him about the cultists in the dungeon before, repeating that phrase now would have a completely different meaning.

"Yes, there are indeed cult members here, or at least someone has done something here."

"You all know this?!" Natalia was shocked. From the moment she entered, she couldn't understand what was going on here. Wasn't there nothing here? If it were a cult, shouldn't there be skeletons or rotting corpses everywhere on the ground, and blasphemous drawings on the walls?

“Because of the rats,” Congel glanced at Natalia and sighed. With the young lady’s brain, it was unlikely that she would figure it out on her own. Oh, she’s the lord’s only daughter. Well, that’s alright then. The old lord can just find her a reliable man later.

“There are so many rats here, and the legs of this table are still new.” He kicked the wooden table. “Rats love to gnaw on the legs of tables and chairs to sharpen their teeth. Either this table has been in contact with something that the rats instinctively avoid, or it was just put here yesterday.”

“It couldn’t have happened yesterday,” a knight said, taking off his gloves and lightly tapping his fingers on the table, drawing circles on it with his fingertips as if applying rouge. He then examined the dust on the floor and the dents formed by the legs of the tables and chairs. “It’s been sitting here for at least two or three months, but this place hasn’t been opened for at least 10 years.”

Clearly, this "knight" had some "side jobs" that were not easy to disclose before becoming a pioneer knight, and even the source of the money he used to acquire this set of equipment is probably a bit questionable.

"It's either soil disguised as dust or real dust. Although I haven't done this for about fifteen or sixteen years, I can still tell whether it's done by my peers."

"Bullshit! Your locks have been broken into twice, so what do you have to say for yourself?!" The knight's eyes widened immediately. "How can you slander me out of thin air? I was out with the old lord before, I wasn't even home, so it's perfectly normal for the locks to be broken into."

"Did you manage to pry it back?"

"Well, we just couldn't find them!" the knight said, scratching his head and chuckling awkwardly.

"Then what are you talking about? You can't even find a petty thief now, and you're still expected to do this? Move aside, let me do it!" Another burly knight stepped forward, took out a small knife, and with a swish, he chipped off a corner of the table. He felt the broken edge and said, "Hmm, it's less than half a year old, made of new wood, and hasn't been properly treated. An amateur's work."

"So you're good now!?"

"Hey! Although I'm not in business anymore, I still make all the woodwork in my house. Now I'm a knight-errant, nobody cares if I cut down trees. I can make cabinets if I want, and big beds if I want. My skills haven't declined; in fact, they've become even better!"

The burly knight chuckled and said that, in a sense, it was understandable that his group couldn't fit into the circle of people from Lywoodshire in the south. They still had a strong earthy smell about them. What do Southerners say? Oh, it takes three generations to raise a true nobleman, and they've only been around for one generation.

Like a captain of guards who has done kidney-cutting work; a town guard captain who is no different from a petty thief, but perhaps more professional than a petty thief; a civil knight who is no different from a carpenter, but in reality still part-time as the top carpenter in the territory, oh no, a guard knight.

And standing behind everyone, completely baffled by the sudden surge of competitive spirit among these middle-aged men, was the silly young lady from the lord's family.

The image of the Tu Baozi Group—a perfect, classic, textbook example of a newly rich upstart who has just become an aristocrat—is vividly presented.

“Alright, this means that this wooden table was just placed here as a disguise. No, it may not be a disguise either. If it wasn’t made yesterday, then it must have participated in some kind of ceremony or been fumigated by something, which is why the rats didn’t gnaw on it.” Kanger vigorously brushed the dust off the table, his expression changing slightly.

"Boss?"

"..." He used his dagger to pick out a few blackened things from the wood grain and examined them closely. "This table has been used to dissect living people, like in a cult. This is human oil." Don't ask him how he knew it was human oil. He even knew that what was blackened was not only human oil, but also not the oil of dead people, but the oil of living people who were roasted alive.

"This is troublesome. The other party may have performed blood sacrifices more than once. This table is just a remnant of the last sacrifice. It's not easy to dispose of it in the territory, so it was left here. After all, no one goes into the dungeon, and even if someone does, they won't care about a rotten wooden table." It was only when the professional eyes of the former core members of the gang, who had obtained accurate intelligence and rushed in, examined everything that they discovered the problem.

For cult rituals, organizing manpower and preparing materials and offerings are actually the simplest things. As friends who often kill people know, killing is easy, but disposing of the body is difficult. (Famous line here) Similarly, blood sacrifice is simple, but what to do with the groundwater, debris, and equipment after the blood sacrifice is completed is the real headache.

The more enthusiastic the priests and fanatical believers were, the more resentful the deacon in charge of dealing with the pile of stuff would be afterward. Moreover, this pile of stuff couldn't just be dumped anywhere. One reason was that it might be needed again next time, and it might not be possible to make a last-minute purchase. Another reason was that if this stuff was left lying around, it would be easy for the Witcher from the Military Intelligence Bureau, whose noses were sharper than dogs, to find clues.

Next, the knights, who were outwardly chatting and laughing but were actually on high alert, searched every cell in the dungeon. Underneath the seemingly rotten but actually fresh straw, they discovered brand-new gilded utensils and rows of perfectly smooth white bones.

According to an examination by a certain "Knight of Northern Myanmar," these skeletons did not decay naturally, but were treated with a special alchemical potion to cause the flesh to fall off on its own before being dumped in a dungeon cell.

It's perfectly normal to find a few skeletons in the dungeon of an ancient castle with hundreds of years of history. They could easily tell from the bone structure that the most recent sacrifice was 12 days ago, which was exactly the day the old lord set off.

"My god, you really have guts!!!" The Kangar people were shocked. Are you all this brave? And so impatient? The old lord just left the house, and you're already starting to sacrifice people?

But thinking about it carefully, it makes sense. The old lord took a group of knights and warriors with him, and the territory was short-handed. They also had to defend against the monsters of the Black Forest and the bandits living in the hilly areas. In addition, in this era, when a large army travels, preparations are always chaotic. Preparing equipment and offerings in the chaos is the best time.

After all, at this time, if a few people are missing from the territory, no one knows whether they have been conscripted by the old lord to serve as auxiliary soldiers. Given the illiteracy rate in the Lum territory, there are probably fewer than three people here who can check the accounts and data, and one of those three is the lord himself.

At this point, if you chase after them and ask if they've taken a few people from the territory to work as laborers, it's fine. If not, it means something has happened and the lord won't blame you. But if so, especially if the lord announced he was only recruiting 100 people but his men didn't know the exact number and ended up taking a few more, then the situation would be very awkward.

Everyone here is a rough, uncultured man, so they understand perfectly how embarrassed and annoyed one feels when their subordinates question their level of education. Therefore, no one would ask such a stupid question, because a real fool wouldn't know whether there are fewer people in the territory, while a smart person who can notice the decrease in people wouldn't ask.

This trip was to support Chief Kreber, so it was normal for a few laborers to go missing or die. Even if there was no battle, in this godforsaken border region, it was common for two or three people to die while walking around.

"So, what do we do now? Those cultists are probably not in the dungeon; this is just a place they've hidden their belongings."