A bizarre scene unfolded before Lyle's eyes.
He narrowed his gaze. What was that creature? Some obscure subspecies? Or was it not even remotely humanoid?
A piercing shriek rang out from the mist-shrouded figure. The sound sliced through the forest like a blade. Waves of visible sound rippled outward, distorting the air.
The flame-cloaked Archangel that had charged forward was blasted back as though struck by a war hammer.
"Human," came a raspy voice, "leave this place. I'll overlook your trespassing just this once."
The twin witches trembled. Leaves wrapped around their bodies rustled sharply as one of them, her yellow eyes glowing—glanced at Lyle. There was wariness in her stare, but also... disappointment?
Sure, he had destroyed five major lizardman tribes, which suggested overwhelming strength, but...
"Ugh, your voice is awful, sister," muttered the mist-wrapped figure as she stood, her tone hoarse and weak.
Now Lyle stood face to face with both of them: one cloaked in leaves, the other in dense fog.
"So this is the real you. The true Twin Witches," Lyle said, an intrigued smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He folded his arms and added casually, "Leaving is an option. Just hand over the lizardmen's cauldron."
"So, it was the Magic Crucible that drew you here," growled the fog witch, her yellow eyes narrowing with hatred. "Die, human!"
Her scream stabbed the air like a spear.
With surprising grace, she lunged forward, aiming straight at the Archangel who stood between her and Lyle. The fog clinging to her body made her movements light as vapor.
"Magic Armor!" the leaf witch chanted, casting a green glow that enveloped her sister.
The Archangel brought its flaming sword down, but the blade struck the enchanted shield protecting the fog witch and skidded off.
Rather than retreating, the fog witch continued forward.
She phased through the Archangel's armor like a ghost slipping into a corpse.
The flaming warrior froze. Then it turned on its heel and charged toward Lyle with sword raised.
He glanced at his interface. No alerts. No system prompts.
Frowning, Lyle found his curiosity growing. Just what species were these witches? Their combat power was low by level standards, but their abilities were disturbingly versatile and strange.
Another Archangel, still at Lyle's side, flared its wings and intercepted the possessed one mid-flight. The two celestial beings clashed, sword against sword.
"Power Drain!" the leaf witch shouted, casting a spell that shimmered across the battlefield.
The loyal Archangel visibly slowed, its strikes growing sluggish. Only a few swings later, the fog witch's puppet cut it down, shattering it into glittering light.
The corrupted Archangel pressed forward, sword still burning.
"That's it? If this is the extent of your power, then this little show ends now."
He flicked his sleeve. A radiant white glow burst forth, illuminating the forest.
A towering figure began to take shape above him—three meters tall, shield on the left, warhammer in the right. The Principality Angel descended, its golden wings shimmering with divine brilliance.
The angel raised its hammer. In a blink, it appeared before the corrupted Archangel.
A wave of divine pressure exploded outward. The possessed Archangel froze mid-strike. Far behind it, the leaf witch's face went pale.
The two witches cast spells almost simultaneously.
The Principality slowed slightly, weighed down by the drain, while the corrupted Archangel began to swell, growing larger with every breath.
Hammer met flaming blade. The resulting shockwave shredded leaves from the trees and even parted some of the dense fog surrounding the battlefield.
The corrupted Archangel held for barely a moment before it exploded into shards of holy light.
The fog witch shot out of the blast, smashed into the ground, and spat blood across the grass. Her misty cloak dissipated.
Her true form was now exposed.
Pale-skinned, painfully thin, with sharp ears and angular features. Not quite human, not quite monster.
Lyle narrowed his eyes.
She looked like a cross between a banshee and the serpent-like Naga. But unlike the latter, her legs were humanoid.
A banshee? No... something's off.
[Skill detected: "Enlarge" – Requires Base Caster Class: Witch. Current conditions not met.]
["Genius" Trait activated. Adapting prerequisites. Conditions met. Spend 1 Skill Point to learn?]
A system prompt popped up.
Witch, huh? Lyle recalled that he already possessed the "Wizard" class. Now this new one had appeared. Interestingly, Witches could use "Enlarge," while Wizards used "Shrink." Two sides of the same coin.
Both were psychic-type caster classes.
With that, the skill settled into his mental arsenal. Lyle was about to press the witches further and finally uncover the location of the mysterious Crucible, when—
His mana surged wildly inside him, churning like a boiling cauldron. Power pulsed through his veins.
[Ding! Advanced Class Triggered!]
Magic Caster: Lv.15 ✔️
Faith Caster: Lv.15 ✔️
Psychic Caster: Lv.15 ✔️
Other Caster Class: Lv.15 ✔️
[All four casting disciplines at Lv.15. Advannced-Tier Class unlocked: MAD ARCHMAGE!]
What timing... I wasn't expecting this now!
His awe was interrupted by a scream.
The fog witch writhed on the ground, blood spurting from her mouth as she curled into a fetal position, wailing in agony.
"Little sister!" The leaf witch dropped to her knees beside her, panic in her eyes. She fumbled in her pouch and produced a cloudy glass vial, forcing the contents into the fog witch's mouth.
Lyle watched, puzzled.
The Principality Angel's attack should have wounded her, sure, but not enough to cause that kind of agony.
No, this was something else.
The fog witch's stomach, flat just moments ago—was ballooning grotesquely. A green bulge pushed outward, and the witch screamed again, shrill and feral.
Then her stomach split open.
Out crawled a slime-covered, frog-like humanoid. Translucent goo clung to its grotesque skin. Its wide, unblinking eyes stared blankly as it slowly stood up, trembling.
Lyle stared in disbelief.
A frogman? Born from her? What the hell...?
Frogmen were known to develop from tadpoles over time. This was entirely wrong. Not just biologically, but also culturally.
They had no concept of family or hierarchy. Their reproduction shouldn't be possible .
Lyle's eyes narrowed sharply.
Suddenly, his memory flashed. The cave lizardmen had warned him:
"You mustn't kill the frogmen."
At the time, he hadn't given it much thought.
Then there was the Twin Witches. Their entire behavior had seemed designed to provoke him. To push him into violence.
Lyle's instincts screamed.
Something was off. Dangerously off.
His Principality Angel hovered back at once. Lyle reached into his robe and unfurled a third-tier scroll.
A blinding flash erupted, summoning another flame Archangel into the sky. It shot straight toward the frogman.
But before it could reach its target—
A blue thunderball shot from deep within the forest.
The Archangel was obliterated mid-flight, vanishing into sparks.
A cold, disdainful voice echoed from the shadows.
"You people from the Slane Theocracy… always so irritating."
The voice oozed contempt.
"But I must admit, you should feel honored. You've just witnessed a masterpiece. The birth of a new lifeform."