022 The Angry White Swan

They were covered in blood moths, yet they claimed they were on the verge of catching one. These people’s perception of reality had clearly suffered a breakdown!

The same question echoed in Roland’s mind once more: Having visited this place so many times, was the Baron truly unaware of how dangerous it was? And since Catherine was so familiar with the Baron, did she not know what lurked within these woods? Why, then, had they brought several apprentices along as dead weight into the Tawny Fern Forest?

*If this place can distort perception,* Roland mused, *could it also be affecting the mentor’s spiritual detection range, as well as the tracking capabilities of Anna and Narl? Perhaps this is my chance to escape.*

Suppressing his presence, Roland watched Anna depart. Then, feigning a search for blood moths, he set off toward the southern woods with a composed expression.

Every time he encountered a blood moth, Roland would tap the coin purse at his waist, letting it deal with the creature. He hoped to learn more about the object by doing so. He quickly discovered that the purse fed at intervals, and it possessed a ravenous appetite specifically for Abyss Blood Moths.

*What if I were to toss the purse into a swarm of moths? Would it be so preoccupied with feeding that it wouldn't return to me?*

It was worth a try. As long as he could buy enough time to slip out of his mentor’s detection range, he would have a chance to get away.

Roland walked a great distance, acting as if he had fallen behind due to greed. Once he was far enough away, he didn't hesitate; he cast the purse aside and bolted toward the edge of the forest. On the road, he counted his breaths. By the count of thirty, he felt a slight weight return to his waist and heard a series of giggles.

*The purse is back!*

Roland reached down, grabbed it, and hurled it as far as he could. Thirty breaths later, it returned. He lunged, grabbed it again, and threw it away once more. This time, the purse opened its maw in mid-air and extended a giant tongue. Roland reached for the longsword at his waist. With a seamless motion of drawing, striking, and sheathing, he severed the tongue into two pieces. The purse let out a cackle, but Roland didn't stop; he kept running.

Thirty breaths later, however, the purse appeared again—and its tongue had regenerated! This time, it didn't reappear at his waist, but hovered directly above his head, snapping its jaws shut!

Roland’s pupils dilated. In his desperation, a technique from Valeria swordsmanship flashed through his mind.

*Swish-swish-swish-swish...*

Roland’s body blurred into an afterimage. He dodged the giant tongue and, in that same instant, thrust his sword at the purse multiple times. Its exterior seemed incredibly tough; it remained unscathed even after taking several blows from a high-level swordsman. However, the force sent it flying a dozen meters away.

In that direction stood several massive trees teeming with blood moths. As the purse landed, it stirred up a swarm. The moths flew toward it in a frenzy, but the purse merely giggled in mid-air, lashing out with its tongue to attract even more. For the moment, it was too busy feeding to bother with Roland.

"The gamble paid off!" Roland felt a surge of joy, but he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he unleashed arcs of electricity toward the trees near the purse.

[Cantrip: Arc II (23/1000)]
[Description: This cantrip can now inflict minor damage. If it reaches the next stage... who says cantrips can't kill?]
[Proficiency +1]
[Proficiency +1]
[Proficiency +1]

The minor cantrip surged several meters from Roland’s hands, startling a vast number of hidden blood moths. Suddenly, the air was thick with them, swirling like a dense colony of bees. Some swarmed the purse, while others flew toward Roland.

Roland felt a chill, turned on his heels, and sprinted toward the edge of the woods. Ten minutes later, he had shaken off his pursuers, and the purse had not returned.

*I have finally broken my shackles!* Roland thought. *The group has only been in the fern forest for two hours, so the path out isn't far. I’ve covered a great distance; another ten minutes and I’ll be out!*

Just then, he felt the shadows beneath his feet begin to writhe. A high-level swordsman’s keen instincts warned him of the anomaly, and he quickly leapt into a patch of sunlight.

*Gurgle...*

Black bubbles surfaced from the surrounding shadows like a swamp. Then, from the darkness, the upper torsos of four creatures emerged, covered in tentacles. Roland peered closely: they were blood moths as large as humans. These four could emerge from shadows, and their tentacles were lined with tiny, lidless eyes—unlike any he had seen before. Or perhaps, these four were mature specimens.

After emerging, the four moths drifted to the three trees surrounding Roland, appearing harmless—as if they wouldn't move unless he did. Roland’s expression grew grave. He glanced at the sunlight on the grass, then at the shadows circling it. *Wallace said blood moths can only travel through shadows. I’m safe as long as I stay in the light.*

*I don't know what other abilities these things have... but time is running out. If I don't return soon, the mentor will surely send someone for me.*

Just then, Roland sensed something off about one of the moths. He flicked his wrist, and an arc of electricity struck it. The moth shattered and vanished like a soap bubble.

*An illusion!* In a flash of insight, Roland realized the truth. He rolled forward and, without turning, released a chain of lightning toward his own shadow.

[Arcane: Chain Lightning II (26/1000)]
[Effect: Call upon the power of thunder, released from both hands to pierce 1-5 enemies at a distance (Level 2), inflicting 1-6 lightning damage to the first target.]

*Crack-k-k-k...*

The savage lightning struck Roland’s shadow. The shadow twitched like a dying insect, and a charred blood moth fell from it. It turned out that even though Roland was in the sunlight, he still cast a shadow, and that shadow was connected to the darkness surrounding the grass. The blood moths could use the shadow as a bridge to reach him. They had been waiting for him to step into the shade, but in reality, they were simply lulling their prey into a false sense of security. Had he not dodged in time, they would have latched onto him, their leech-like tentacles boring into his flesh—impossible to shake off once attached!

After striking the first target, the chain lightning didn't stop; it linked the dead moth in Roland’s shadow to the others on the nearby trees.

*Crack-k-k-k...*
*Crack-k-k-k...*

The intense glare of the lightning illuminated the surrounding shadows, successfully striking all the blood moths. The air was filled with the smell of charred meat!

As a low-level apprentice encountering such monsters for the first time, Roland had judged their actions before they even moved, and in an instant, locked onto all of them with his mental energy. Most importantly, he had successfully cast the spell despite the complex operation and the dire situation! Such calmness, keenness, and reaction time were akin to those of a seasoned demon hunter. If a certain mentor were watching through a crystal ball, she would surely be staring in wide-eyed shock alongside Baron Hall.

As the blinding light faded, several blood moths twitched and fell from the trees to the ground. One, however, wasn't quite dead; after twitching for a moment, it merged into the shadows and vanished.

*Damn it!* Roland thought, his heart sinking, but he didn't stop moving. He held his longsword low, the blade sweeping from his left shoulder across his back to his right, his head held straight, tracing arcs of light to guard his entire body.

There was no such move in Valeria swordsmanship, nor in most sword arts. In his desperation, Roland was mimicking a scene from a movie, performing a "twining saber" technique! It looked like a clumsy, frantic maneuver, but upon closer inspection, it was incredibly precise and practical.

As Roland guarded himself with the twining blade, he used his telepathy to scan for anomalies. A moment later, he stopped, a look of embarrassment crossing his face. *The moth didn't come near... it ran away.*

Roland leapt a dozen meters, slashed at the shadow on the ground, and watched as the shadow writhed, revealing a blood moth sliced in two. The creature hadn't been attacking; it had simply fled after being severely wounded.

Just then, a tongue shot out from Roland’s waist and devoured the corpse. Roland looked down in astonishment to find the coin purse had returned.

*Why didn't it eat me the moment it got back?*

He scanned his surroundings and quickly spotted a pair of beautiful, long legs—incredibly long! Nearly two meters! Looking up, he saw the "Cat Witch" sitting on a tree branch, swinging those legs—it was Miss Anna.

Roland’s expression turned grim. Anna wasn't doing anything strange... or rather, her current behavior was very strange. She was cradling a crystal ball, which reflected the faces of Catherine and the Baron. One was squinting coldly at the scene, while the other stroked his beard with an intrigued expression.

"Why did you run so far away?" Catherine’s voice rose from the crystal ball like an angry white swan.

Anna put the crystal ball away, lifted her head slowly, and narrowed her eyes with suppressed irritation. "Why did you run so far away?" she demanded of Roland.

It was Common! Roland realized then that Anna’s eyes were exceptionally clear, and the magical power radiating from her felt unfathomable.

Roland had been wrong. Anna was the Cat Witch! It was never Catherine; it was Anna! When she wasn't suffering from her "madness," she was an incredibly rational, calm, and powerful witch.

As he drifted in thought, Anna floated over, grabbed Roland by the collar, and hoisted him into the air.

*Did Anna take some kind of human medicine?* Roland wondered, his mind racing. *Why is she so rational?*