Chapter 111 – Battle with the Spirits

—A simple altar prepared for the ritual. Ritual tools arranged to summon the spirit. Lines of a Magic Array drawn to contain it within.

“Shall I begin the invocation?”

Auria, having completed all preparations, made the declaration. We were in the Southern District—the plaza with the fountain.

We had decided on our roles based on the type of spirit to be summoned.

“Please proceed.”

“Very well—then.”

After receiving our response, she nodded and began a chant, almost like singing.

“O wandering soul, awakened from slumber. Answer my call…”

Along with the chant, something invisible to my eyes began to gather. I could feel magical power flowing in.

Small presences came and went. That was the sensation.

Not that one, not this one either. Countless selections repeated.

And then it came. A sensation like an especially large object collapsing inward. Like a slope giving way and an avalanche rushing down.

The scattered mist gathered and took form. Once it materialized, even I could perceive it. White garments and white hair, seeming to float in the night’s darkness. A girl clutching her head, her face contorted in agony.

“Now—!”

Auria touched the Magic Array at her feet. Instantly, a Barrier activated, a circle of light enclosing the plaza.

The spirit made a gesture as if clawing at the Barrier. Its form writhed in apparent suffering—.

“Why have you strayed beyond your domain, O wandering one? I beseech you, answer—”

Auria’s invocation continued. Furthermore, Marlene offered prayers to the suffering spirit. Irmhild, without nocking an arrow, drew the bowstring and produced a String Resonance.

The spirit turned back with apparent disgust and, for the first time, opened its eyes wide. There were no whites or pupils there. Only eye sockets dyed a blood-like crimson.

At that appearance, Auria’s eyes widened. Even so, her invocation didn’t stop, but the tension in her voice increased.

—A female form. And those, red eyes. I had an idea of what kind of spirit took such a form.

“—The opponent is magic-type. Form up and defend.”

After giving the short instruction, everyone moved according to it. Auria, Marlene, and Irmhild each employed Techniques to pacify the spirit, while the rest of us took up positions to defend them.

I cast the counter-curse for mental attacks, Psycho Field, on everyone, and further used a Defense Field to protect the Rearguard from direct attacks—then I stepped forward to fight.

“I’m going.”

I glanced back over my shoulder with a smile to everyone, gripped Ouroboros, and advanced.

They were a troublesome bunch in a different way from Demons. Moreover, if they had accumulated power for some reason and turned violent. On top of that, I couldn’t aim for a One Hit Kill. …Well then.

“Iiiiiieeeaaaahhh…”

A sound—neither a cry, a scream, nor a moan—escaped the spirit’s lips. Swelling Magical Power. Changes occurred in its body as well. Horns, wings, a tail sprouted—and it hugged its own shoulders as if rejecting them.

“Shield!”

I gave the defense order to my comrades. The next instant—the spirit opened its mouth wide—I had already deployed a Magic Shield at maximum scale.

A shriek—.

A Shockwave like a tsunami passed through. It was a scream. A wave of Magical Power that seemed to tear the soul of the listener. It had the effect of throwing those who heard it directly into a state of panic. And yet, it possessed physical destructive power.

Cracks ran across the stone pavement inside the Barrier. Some parts shattered—the stone fountain in the plaza was utterly Crushed to dust.

“Guhh!”

Auria, maintaining the Barrier, gritted her teeth against the impact striking the inner wall. Only what was behind the Shield remained unharmed, not Crushed by the Shockwave.

But not a single one of us was injured. No one took mental damage either, and the Barrier was still holding.

The shriek. A sound wave. By the time it’s heard, defense is already too late—but it seems a big move requires a corresponding buildup of Magical Power. In that case, it’s an opponent we can fully fight.

A Banshee. A female spirit said to weep and mourn announcing a household’s death, also referred to as a type of Fairy. Spirits and Fairies—they’re like relatives.

In the sense of being mistaken for Undead, it shares similar traits with the Dullahan… but its current power—it’s on a completely different level from BFO mobs.

“Human thoughts have entangled with it, greatly increasing its power! Be careful!”

So the change in form is due to that. With Auria’s voice at my back, I activated my Magical Power Circulation, kicked off the stone pavement, and flew toward the Banshee.

Using Magic in combination to accelerate. Simultaneously, I poured Magical Power into Ouroboros, held in a reverse grip, and slammed it forward.

Since it’s materialized, it won’t phase through just because it’s a spirit. A dense Magical Power that felt repulsive. A heavy impact transmitted to my arm. If this weight is the Magical Power and thoughts the spirit carries, it’s considerable.

We were both flung back with a shower of sparks.

“Giiiiieeeaaaahhh!”

The Banshee raised a shrill cry and closed in. It unleashed Magical Power glowing purple from its palm.

I Dodged the trajectory while blocking with a widely deployed Magic Shield. To probe the nature of the attack.

An impact that spread across the entire Shield. It was a mass of vibrating, resonating Magical Power.

If taken directly by my flesh, my bones would be Crushed, my organs shaken, and I’d sustain severe damage all over my body. So it possesses formidable means of attack besides its shriek.

But—there’s no reason to hesitate in closing the distance. I slammed Ouroboros against the Magical Power gathered in the Banshee’s palm. Our Magical Powers collided, attenuated, canceled each other out. A numbing feedback.

Within it, a faint trace of Miasma. The human thoughts, thoughts, thoughts clinging there.

It must be—heavy, and irritating.

“Come.

I’ll scatter every last bit of it.”

I took a Stance with Ouroboros—and deliberately flashed a smile.

It seemed to view the three in the rear as enemies, but with that provocation, it apparently fixed its sights entirely on me.

It swung its arms, hurling the accumulated Magical Power. We exchanged blows, chipped away, Parried.

As if dancing a waltz. While shaving off each other’s Magical Power, we soared into the sky.

In the scenery flowing by at high speed, a voice—hard to describe as either a scream or a roar—echoed.

Before a shriek could erupt from its mouth, in one motion, I struck its jaw upward with my Staff and slammed it down.

But perhaps it fundamentally lacks something like a pain sense. Or maybe the clinging extras aren’t even part of the spirit itself; there was no sign of flinching at all.

The moment it was struck down by Ouroboros, it had already recovered, turning only its face toward me and letting out a shriek.

—A wall of sound. A Shockwave.

I caught the approaching tsunami-like wave with multiple Barriers of Magic Shield and Air Screen. A blow that seemed to swallow even the Shield. Its attack range is large in any case.

I won’t use Mirage Body. It’s preferable to always position myself so the Shockwave doesn’t head toward my comrades.

“Thundercloud!”

Sixth Level Lightning Magic. Entangled in the electrified dark clouds, the Banshee’s body writhed. The magical Lightning Strike seems quite effective. But only for a moment. Shaking its body violently, it scattered the clouds with a wave of Magical Power.

Again, we closed in from both sides. The pale Magical Power imbued in Ouroboros and the purple Magical Power dwelling in its arms left trails in the night’s darkness, creating luminous tracks.

While it launched one Strike, my attacks pierced the spirit numerous times.

The sensation of scraping away. But the Banshee didn’t falter. It didn’t retreat or flinch.

As the distance closed, I took distance before it could be eliminated. We passed each other, leaped over, Parried. Turning back again, I slammed down Strikes with the Dragon Staff.

The Banshee condensed the Magical Power in its arms and swept across a wide area. I Charged head-on. Smashed through directly with Ouroboros and closed in. Punched through its flank.

For something said to be violent… I must say, it uses its head in attack. It has accumulated that much power—meaning it’s becoming a higher-level existence.

Striking its jaw upward, I disengaged. The Banshee lost track of my precise location. Instead, it pointed toward the direction I had disengaged—the general area.

The Magical Power the Banshee had scattered around condensed around me, creating countless purple spheres of light. This is—.

A shriek leaked from its mouth. The moment the sound wave reached the spheres, it triggered resonance, causing a chain of explosions. Almost simultaneous. I myself also scattered a blast in all directions centered on my own body.

“Theo!”

Everyone’s screams. But it’s no problem. Emerging from the blast unharmed, I Charged toward the Banshee. It raised both hands forward as if to block Ouroboros, but I kicked off the Shield, flew sideways, then sharply changed trajectory and struck through its temple.

The explosion centered on me—was caused by my own Magic.

Fourth Level Fire Magic Repel Burst. A Magic that scatters a blast around the caster, almost like a Self-defense measure for when a Magician is closed in on.

Essentially like Reactive Armor, I released a blast to cancel out the Shockwaves from the Resonance Bullets coming from all directions.

The Banshee’s current attack—was reminiscent of the Wind Magic Resonance Mine.

Perhaps it didn’t think it could be defeated; the Banshee, emitting a shrill cry of disgust, pursued me.

As if to mimic me, it treated the Magical Power cloaking its own body as Resonance Bullets, even resorting to self-destructive attacks.

But a tuning fork doesn’t vibrate much unless the source is large. If it’s not a resonance wave originating from a shriek, it’s a Level that can be fully handled with just a Shield.

I angled it and Parried to the rear.

An exchange of Strikes. Dodge and Pursuit. Leaving pale afterimages in the night’s darkness, we slashed and scraped at each other in passing. Shockwaves and explosions.

But I could feel the feedback getting lighter and lighter. Attack and defense. Each exchange was like burning fuel. That kind of existence.

Then, more and more—it should unleash bigger attacks.

“Come!”

Sensing the buildup of Magical Power, I stopped. For an instant, the Banshee’s eyes widened, and it expanded its Magical Power right there. I deployed multiple Shields in a conical shape. Simultaneously. The largest shriek yet swallowed me.

Long, long. An endless torrent of shrieks and Magical Power. Ouroboros, wreathed in pale Sparks, roared in response to my Magical Power. The heavy feedback transmitted to my arm.

“Haaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

I found a fissure in the torrent. With a spirited cry, I spun my entire body. Plunging through the wall of Magical Power with my Shield as if gouging a path.

“Hi—”

The Banshee, recognizing that I had Penetrated through the tsunami of Magical Power, let out a scream different in nature from before. I deployed a huge Magic Circle.

Not that—I’m trying to kill it. Judging comprehensively from the feedback so far, this Magic should be appropriate.

“Burn it all away.”

Eighth Level Fire Magic Furnace Flare. A sphere of extreme flame appeared, enveloping the Banshee. Above and below the great Fireball, Sealing Arrays to restrict the opponent’s movement. A vicious Magic that traps the target inside a swirling spherical inferno and incinerates everything.

Within it, I felt the Banshee writhing, wielding its Magical Power. I burned away without residue the clinging thoughts and the Miasma causing its suffering, feeling its power rapidly decline and shrink. And then—.

“Now!”

The extreme flames scattered in all directions.

Normally, this Magic ends with the flames condensing at the center and exploding, but doing that would truly leave nothing behind. I canceled the Technique partway through.

What remained within the Fireball was—a small spirit form, emitting a faint phosphorescence, so reduced in scale it was more like a Fairy than a Banshee.

Banshee. The meaning of its name is “female fairy”… it seems. Perhaps proof that it’s also a type of Fairy. Or maybe remnants of the earlier mutation’s influence. Or perhaps I ended up imposing my own image on it.

I could see butterfly-like, translucent wings on its back. Wings that shimmered vividly, like a Morpho butterfly.

Wondering if I had overdone it, I looked toward Auria, but she was nodding. It seemed to be alright.

Whether it had lost consciousness—the spirit, with its eyes closed, slowly descended in altitude, but when I caught it on my palm, it opened its eyes slightly.

And so, that spirit—in a somewhat dazed state, gazed at my face with a curious expression.