Vol 1 Chapter 15 – AUTOPSY

On the path of exterminating High Poison Snakes.

“That’s strange.”

I stop in my tracks, tilting my head.

“What’s wrong?” Ryshia asks.

“This isn’t a High Poison Snake, is it? I’m not sensing what I should from them… Glad I held off on the autopsy just in case.”

“…Not a High Poison Snake?”

“This has… human fingerprints on it. Who did this? What’s the result of whose actions? No, thinking about that won’t help… wait, actually it might. This feeling. This pattern—it’s their handiwork. What’s the purpose of these High Poison Snakes? What are they even for…”

“Wh-whoa, hold on!?”

The mass outbreak of High Poison Snakes. From the start, something felt off about it. These creatures shouldn’t naturally appear in such numbers. I sensed something artificial about them, so I recovered one corpse early on and began an autopsy in a separate dimension.

The result? Unmistakably artificial. Without question, they were artificially created monsters. Clones.

“Then my approach should be like this.”

I disperse the herd of deer I’d scattered everywhere and instead grab the High Poison Snake charging straight at me by the scruff of its neck, interfering with its magic. I erase its very existence.

“…They all disappeared.”

Not just the High Poison Snake in front of me. All of them. Every single High Poison Snake in this forest vanishes.

“Wh-what did you do!?”

Ryshia grabs my shoulder, her voice urgent.

“Nothing special? Just did something simple… But hey, Ryshia.”

I need to switch gears. This stopped being a simple job of defeating High Poison Snakes.

I pull out a staff I’d brought along as backup from my separate dimension.

“Look around.”

“…!?”

I clap my hands.

With that, every spell cast in this area vanishes. The magical map I’d been holding disappears, and so does the optical camouflage magic that had been surrounding us.

“…P-please, wait.”

“You guys again?”

With their camouflage broken, the figures revealed are nothing but suspicious. Dressed entirely in black, their faces hidden behind identical masks. That appearance—the figures of over a dozen people surrounding us—both Ryshia and I recognized.

“Witch Cult bastards.”

The Witch Cult.

An organization Ryshia and I once clashed with had now revealed itself before us again. What was supposed to be a simple job of defeating High Poison Snakes… now I’d have to deal with one of the world’s most dangerous groups? What kind of punishment game is this?

Vol 1 Chapter 16 – THE WITCH CULT

The Witch Cult.

A cult religion that existed long before I was born. A troublesome organization that operates in the shadows, seeking the revival of the legendary “Witch.”

For the Witch’s resurrection.

Armed with nothing but those words, they engage in all manner of inhumane human experiments and have destroyed multiple nations.

“Ugh, having a fight with you guys is always the biggest pain…”

Despite causing massive casualties everywhere and essentially making themselves enemies of the world, they maintain their power to this day. That alone proves how formidable the Witch Cult truly is.

“Every time… I don’t even know what you’re after. What’s the point of making High Poison Snake clones anyway?”

“N-Noah!? Don’t stand around muttering to yourself! These are the Witch Cult… we don’t have the luxury of letting our guard down!”

“What can I say.”

I shrug at Ryshia’s words, and in the same motion, I activate my magic. Chains burst forth from beneath the Witch Cult members’ feet, coiling around their bodies.

“Won’t you even let a mage chant their spells?”

“…Huh?”

“Tch. Most of my magic got blocked. The surprise factor of casual-chatter casting isn’t enough… or maybe it’s just a level difference in the magic itself?”

I’d planned for an easy win by restraining them with chains that weaken whoever they touch, even considering capture. But my calculations went awry—the Witch Cult members obliterated the chains in an instant and repelled the weakening effect cleanly.

“Guess I’ll have to go at this head-on.”

Magic can do anything.

Burn the forest to ash. Swallow cities in water. Trigger earthquakes. Depending on the situation, there’s all sorts of things it can do—that’s one of magic’s strengths. But I’m the radical type who thinks you only need one kind of spell for combat.

“Spell Cannon.”

What emerges from my staff is simple magic. Just raw power gathered and fired outward. That’s all—but with all its force channeled into velocity and impact, this one can obliterate most things on direct contact. I have that much confidence in it. The Witch Cult member I aimed it at easily dodges.

“I’ll hold the front line and pin them down. Time your shots!”

“Don’t declare I missed just because they avoided it once.”

Getting called out after just one dodge is harsh. The Spell Cannon doesn’t stop. As it travels, it branches into multiple projectiles, all converging on the Witch Cult member who’d dodged. They manage to evade some, but can’t avoid them all—their head gets crushed. One down.

“Skills haven’t gotten rusty.”

It’s been a while since I’ve had a real fight. Relieved that my magic is firing properly, I spin my staff and unleash multiple Spell Cannons into the fray.