City ​​of Witches 724

## Chapter 724 – #155_Party(5)

#724

1.
Magic that deals with concepts is not suitable for combat.
This is because it is more ambiguous compared to other magic that deals with things that exist in the real world.

This ambiguity directly leads to a high level of difficulty and causes instability that is out of control.
Also, in this process, a lot of magical power is required to perform magic stably.

Unlike other magic where you can visually feel where to control, most conceptual magic is passive because everything must be done sensually.

To compensate for these points, most witches who deal with concepts use their own ‘totems’.

Just as a lucky witch uses clovers to achieve this, in Lydia’s case, it was gold coins.

Rather than directly interfering with the concept of ‘value’, she predetermines the degree of interference through gold coins.
This is because she could easily be swept away by a runaway state that even she cannot control.

-Ting

The gold coin spinning and falling with a clear sound is the same.

What should be noted here is that this gold coin is not just a simple totem.

Lydia incorporated the totem itself as part of conceptual magic to overcome the weaknesses that her predecessors had not solved.
She does not simply use the totem as a measure of magic control, but uses it as a catalyst and material for manifesting magic.

By having the totem pay the price that Lydia would have originally had to pay, she increased efficiency, and even if she failed, she reduced the risk by limiting the impact of feedback to the gold coin.

She caught two birds with one stone: stability and efficiency.

Of course, every time she had a proper battle, it required a great price, but Lydia had the wealth and power to obtain as many sacrifices as she needed.

“Prove it.”

Linne is still struggling with the poison moths.
Lydia looked at her and chanted leisurely.

The moment the gold coin made of rose fell to the floor.
The hard marble floor rippled and surged.

-Splash!

And as if to prove that it was not an illusion, a sound like a pebble being thrown into a pond rings out.

The gold coin sinks endlessly to the bottom.

Cold, black waves.
It sinks without bubbles under the lonely and evil river where the sun has never touched, and finally reaches someone’s hand.

-Gooooooo…!

The roar of an infrasonic wave that feels like a scream fills the hallway.
The sound of the river flowing, which had begun to be heard at some point, soon devours the sound of rain hitting the window and fills the hallway.

It swallowed a gold coin made by grinding the mark of a 20th-level witch whole, and still demanded a quarter of Lydia’s magical power.
A mythical being that guides the one who bought it with gold to the world of the dead.

Its two eyes gleam with a totality of madness that cannot be properly looked at.
It wore a robe woven from darkness.

Its two hands, with only white bones left, held a large scythe.
The death energy exhaled with every breath is so directly connected to death that even a normal human would die instantly just by being exposed to it.

The blurry figure behind Lydia and the river of the afterlife that had begun to flow little by little were also captured in Linne’s eyes, who was struggling with the poison moths.
She then perceived the reaper who was declaring death slowly raising his scythe for harvest.

As expected of Lydia, who is known to use all sorts of bizarre techniques, it was a type of magic that even Linne, who had a lot of combat experience, could not identify.

However, if that scythe is raised all the way and then swung, she would not be able to survive even if she dodged, blocked, or even ran to the other side of the world.

Linne’s intuition, which was as developed as her psychic abilities, warned her.

“…….”

The worthless poison moths are not fast at all.
They were slow enough that a normal person with good motor skills could easily outrun and avoid them.

The problem is the number and the tricky magical characteristic that even a single contact must not be allowed.

Linne counted the number of remaining poison moths.
No matter how superior Linne’s swordsmanship and physical abilities are, she does not have enough time to avoid all of these and reach Lydia, who is preparing a large-scale spell.

From the beginning, it would have been a summon for that purpose.
For Linne, who is a melee dealer by nature, it was a familiar that was most suitable for buying time.

Annoying obstacles that cling from all sides.
A scythe of death soaring toward the sky like a guillotine preparing for execution.

In a desperate situation that would make anyone panic.

“Heh heh….”

Linne laughed.

A thrill she had felt in a long time.
A precarious battle where she challenges an opponent stronger than herself, risking her life.

Power boils over throughout her body.
Vitality, as if burning, settles in every muscle tissue, every cell.
Her breath, which heats up her lungs, is as unstoppable as a steam locomotive.

Linne’s body bounces forward, toward death.

The poison moths that she could not cut down with her sword collided several times like bugs hitting a headlight.
Each time, Linne slowed down visibly.

“…Are you kidding me?”

Lydia frowned at the sight.
It was as if she was watching a moth jumping into a bonfire.

Of course, it is not that she has no countermeasures, as she runs while wrapping her body in black magic in the black and white world.
However, trying to deal with the poison moths in that way, which would not be enough even if she concentrated them on her sword, is nothing short of an insult to Lydia.

A level is a class.
An element that overturns the gap in skill and sometimes even compatibility, and is the biggest factor in determining the outcome of a magic battle.

However, what Linne was doing was an act that should not have been done even if the two people’s levels were reversed.

To take the enemy’s core attack head-on with only minimal defense.
Even a witch with the nickname of Sword Demon would make such a misjudgment when cornered?

Linne’s face, laughing wildly while committing what anyone would see as suicide, is even more unpleasant.
Lydia concentrated her mind to complete the spell without letting her guard down.

“Just die quietly if you’re going to be like this. I wasted a gold coin.”

-Chwaaaak!

When Linne cut through the last swarm of moths, her body was degraded to about the 6th level at best.
Her trained body and her vast, but well-refined magical power are now all messed up.

It was the result of colliding with dozens of poison moths.

The black and white scenery that had been coloring the surroundings was also shaking precariously, as if it would break at any moment.

-Kuoohhhhhh!!!!

The figure of the reaper who had almost raised his scythe can be seen.
Her legs feel like they are about to give way at the terrible roar that does not feel like the vocalization of a living creature.

Black and white world.

Linne’s magnetic magic that steals the original color of magic.
Many witches know that Linne’s black and white world is a complete magic in itself.
This is because only Duke Tiferet and Siwoo have survived after seeing what comes after.

“…….”

Linne closed her eyes.
A consciousness that calmly sinks even when facing death.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in a space covered in black.
There were crooked and white stairs.
Precarious stairs that were so flimsy that they seemed like they would collapse if she took a single step.

There is no way that stairs could exist on the flat hallway, but they are clearly here.
This is because these stairs are Linne’s inner image and philosophy projected into the black and white world.

The obsession for strength that Linne had always climbed, had to climb, and had pursued throughout her life.

Even if what awaits at the end is a futile oxidation, the inner image that she had repeatedly vowed to climb and engraved transforms into a single magic.

Linne runs out.
When bitter loneliness pierces her heart, a powerful obsession arises in response.

It is a re-experience of all the time that has accumulated in her life.
As she climbs one step, stirring up the inner demons that rise like turbulence, the atmosphere surrounding Linne changes.
The power that Lydia had degraded by interfering with value returns.

No one can arbitrarily judge this path.
No one can deny it.
No one can disparage it.
She will only lonely pursue the given destiny to the end.

This is the derivative of the black and white world.
A magic that forcibly manifests all of Linne’s potential with every step she takes.
The ‘Path of Asura’.

“Crazy.”

Lydia felt a chill run down her spine as she watched Linne running across the flat ground as if she were climbing stairs.

With every step she takes, the power returns to her body, which had been terribly weakened.
Her abilities, which had been denied as worthless, divide the world with a clearer black and white contrast than before.

The reaper who took the gold coin as a price for the harvest has not yet finished all the preparations.
However, even at the point where her expectations were off, Lydia had a choice.

One is to compete to see whether Linne’s sword will rip through Lydia’s chest faster, or whether Lydia will complete the magic and issue a ‘sentence’ faster.

The other is to swing the reaper’s scythe, which is powerful even though it is incomplete, to offset Linne’s attack and then consume another gold coin.

The deliberation was not long.

Lydia is a businesswoman, not a gambler.
There are plenty of spare gold coins to use as totems, and the value of a gold coin is clearly cheaper than Lydia’s own life.

-Voooom!

The reaper’s scythe was swung.

The space is split along the trajectory, as if a sharp knife is cutting through the cloth that was tightly hanging on the four corners.
The sound coming from the torn gap is the scream of the dead who yearn for a comrade to suffer with them more than anyone else.

“Haa… haa…!”

Linne, who was climbing the stairs, feels a surge of elation and excitement rising to the end of her chest.
She now fearlessly climbs the stairs that crumble and disappear every time she steps on them.

At this moment, she forgets loneliness, pain, and her monotonous life.
A dance on the blade that makes her want to hum a song.

When she reached the high, narrow, and unstable stairs that she had never climbed before, Linne’s excitement reached its peak.

Higher, higher, higher.

What allowed her to come this far was the training that shaved off the edges of her life and….
Thanks to the sparring with her new disciple.

-Thud

Linne’s footsteps, which had been led only by obsession, stop.

In front of her, she sees stairs of a realm she has never climbed before.
Stairs that are precarious, that will either take Linne to a higher level of ascent or take her breath away.

Behind her, without even having to look, she can picture her groom, who is seeking Linne’s help.
The figure of Shin Siwoo, who will bring a new form of life to her.

Linne, who had placed her toe on the new stairs, stopped in place after a moment of hesitation.
She prepares a slash to counter the reaper’s swinging scythe.

At that moment, a white light flashed like a hallucination as if beckoning from the top of the stairs, but Linne did not turn her eyes.

“Cut it down.”
“Prove it.”

————Kiiing!!!!

Two intersecting diagonals.
The black sword energy that spiraled up and the space cut by the great scythe intertwined and screamed.