High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1663 - 407: The Colors of Contamination

Chapter 1663: Chapter 407: The Colors of Contamination

Upon realizing that his mind might be under interference, Zheng Qing felt a sudden intense impulse to raise the Charm Gun in his hand and fire in all directions until the Fu Bullets in the clip were emptied.

Instantly, a slight tingling sensation was felt at his fingertips.

The Warlock lowered his head, vaguely noticing that the yellow windmill-like symbols on the Charm Gun’s body were slowly turning, and a strange color he had previously seen on the moss slowly dissipated under the rotating windmills, with several dim sparks bursting at his fingertips.

However, when he focused his gaze, he found those symbols motionless, as if it had all been his imagination.

The Warlock took a light breath, blinked his eyes, and the reddish glow in them slightly intensified, as two strange colors that had just extended from the back of his head to his eyes silently faded away.

Along with the tingling at his fingertips, a coolness spread from within—it’s as if a breeze was born above the lake of his heart, brushing over his soul and body—Zheng Qing felt the anxiety, unease, and anger that had just emerged moments ago seemed to have been cleared away in an instant, just like a gopher popping out of its hole only to be hammered back in.

Meanwhile, the Witch was not just sitting idly by.

"Silence and Think!"

Jiang Yu quickly flipped open the Law book, ran her fingers over the dense spell text, and softly chanted an Embedded Spell: "...Blessings of Life!"

Blue and green lights rolled between the Witch’s fingers, exuding a calming aura.

On the other side, the two-headed Minotaur suddenly stood up, both heads simultaneously letting out a low cry, and the totem pole in its hand spun elegantly in the night before heavily striking the ground.

Deep blue calm aura interlaced with the Witch’s spell, forming a visibly circular Magic Tide, spreading outward with the three at its center.

Yet this wave of magic surged only less than a hundred meters before colliding with an invisible barrier, halting further spread. The barrier, unable to fully suppress the momentum of the magic tide, caused the tide to veer upward upon obstruction, like ocean waves crashing against a dam, splashing blue-green spray into the sky.

Beyond the tide.

The invisible barrier, in response to the magic tide’s impact, began to flicker with ghostly hues, emitting colors that were bright yet dark, vibrant yet unstable, difficult to describe with words.

It was like a transparent Opal Stone, revealing the Flame of Ruby, streaks of Amethyst, and the emerald green of Emerald, with hues that changed beautifully like a dreamlike paradise, colorful and seamless.

But unlike an Opal, Zheng Qing saw no purity, hope, or beauty in those colors. He felt they were more like a drop of oil in water, creating a dazzling illusion under light interference, beautiful yet impure.

...

A few hundred meters away from the two young wizards.

At the edge of the withered forest.

On an outcropping of rugged, jagged rocks, a Black Cat was licking its paws, watching with interest the young wizards lost in the dazzling colors not far away.

"That’s what you get for feeding me dog food!" it grumbled indignantly, its tail swaying with satisfaction, "I’m clearly a cat... you ought to learn a lesson... know the perilous nature of the world, the fickleness of people’s hearts... and cat hearts."

As it spoke, the Black Cat licked the last trace of blood from its paw.

It lowered its eyelids, glanced down, and added, "...Witch Demon hearts aren’t pure either."

Below the jagged rocks lay a twisted corpse, a bit further away, Old Tuoer—the Old Witch Demon serving as the guide for the adventurers—its head neatly planted on a dry tree branch, with thick green blood oozing slowly from the corners of its eyes, mouth, and ears, trickling down the branches.

The dried branches of the dead tree acted like a twisted sponge; the green blood didn’t flow far before disappearing into the cracked tree seams, leaving behind slick trails that soon faded into the night.

The Black Cat retracted its gaze, muttered, "...Why couldn’t you just lead them honestly... Though I didn’t mind you leading them astray, quietly slipping away from the ditch after abandoning your employers wasn’t a good move."

In the distance, the Witch happened to be casting spells, with invisible magic impacts reaching the edge of the withered forest, causing the long-dead tree to shudder slightly.

The head of the Old Witch Demon—hanging on a branch of the dead tree—drooped with the branch’s tremors, seemingly nodding to the Black Cat’s mutterings, as the last drop of thick green blood reluctantly fell under the violent head-dropping motion.

The Black Cat didn’t notice the Old Witch Demon’s final repentance.

It put down its clean paws, lifted its body, and with its head held high, gazed seriously into the depths of the withered forest. Its dark red eyes flickered uncertainly in the night, and its tail lost its previous leisurely interest, the tip pointed toward the ground.

"This is a bit too much noise, ma’am," the Black Cat murmured, alternating its paws on the stone beneath, its ears twitching with unease.

The combined efforts of the Witch and Minotaur, stirring up the Magic Tide, collided with the alert mechanism left by the owner of this withered grove, awakening ancient life slumbering underground.

It was like a small insect caught in a spider’s web; slipping away silently without a trace of oil on hand and foot posed little problem. But if one struggled excessively in the web, alerting the predators lurking in its depths, they would invariably face ceaseless destruction.

At this moment, the brilliant colors spreading over the barrier were swiftly spreading in all directions—as if an invisible brush was dipped in those colors, painting all around.

From the branches of dead trees to the gravel on the ground; from rugged rocks to fossilized dried bones; then the surrounding air, scattered starlight, and even the heavy night sky.

Everything was being covered by those strange yet active colors.

Shaa, shaa, shaa.

A rustling sound came from underground, as if someone was scratching the core of their heart with claws, causing discomfort to all who heard it. Along with the rustle, slender white grasses slowly emerged from beneath the ground, swaying without wind, glowing faintly under the shimmering starlight.

The Black Cat felt the short hair on the back of its neck bristle simultaneously.

"This is quite frightening," it murmured, taking in the hazy withered forest anew, a hint of confusion flickered in its dark red pupils, "Isn’t this a tree transformed into a Tree Yao? Why do I smell a stench from the Deeps of Starry Sky..."

Before the words were out, the Black Cat nimbly leaped backward.

Crack.

A shadow swept past, easily grinding the rugged rock where the Black Cat had just landed to rubble. Fixing its gaze, the shadow was none other than the branch that hung the Old Witch Demon’s head just moments ago.

At this moment, including that branch, the entire grove, once dead long ago, after being painted with that dazzling color, seemed to have been revitalized by the top-tier Legendary Wizard’s ’Gan Lin Spell’.

And rather excessively so.