It seemed that due to the magic surrounding Salomon, the invisible spirits here became visibly excited.
"I feel a bit uncomfortable..." Young Master John looked around suspiciously, feeling a chilling aura enveloping his body.
In fact, what Salomon and Young Master John didn't notice was that their attire was quite conspicuous—Salomon was wearing a long robe made of red holy shroud.
This was to prevent his brain from being scorched and his soul annihilated by overextending his Stigma, while Young Master John was wearing the common brown training clothes of Kamar-Taj... besides brown, grey and khaki were the only other options.
But in the 21st century, no one dressed like this anymore, especially in autumn. Even though the museum had air conditioning, suitable temperature and humidity were important conditions for preserving collections.
After seeing the security guard approaching, Salomon quickly pulled Young Master John deeper into the museum. He thought their suspicious appearance had attracted attention, but he was completely unaware that his aesthetic sense had been assimilated—because almost every mage in his memories wore robes.
Passing through the Great Court with a dome composed of 3312 triangular glass panels, Salomon and Young Master John arrived at the Egyptian exhibition. Many of the exhibits here were plundered by the British from the French during Napoleon's retreat from Egypt. With over 100,000 items, this was also the place where magical energy was most concentrated.
"What exactly are you looking at?" Young Master John seemed a little irritated because he couldn't see what he was supposed to see, but Salomon firmly pressed him onto a public bench. He said to the chubby, panting John, "You can only see those things by entering meditation."
To be honest, Young Master John's behavior was indeed somewhat disruptive to public order. After all, sitting cross-legged on a bench was not very civilized. To correct this mistake, Salomon... moved a little farther away from Young Master John.
Don't look at me, I don't know that person.
When Young Master John opened his eyes again, he didn't notice Salomon's strangeness. Instead, he was shocked by the scene before him... countless vast, distorted spirits hovered over the exhibits.
The power from a single exhibit wouldn't attract these spirits, but the British had plundered far too many items from overseas and displayed them according to different civilizations. The power of the same pantheon resonated and amplified, and these specters wandering the world also needed to maintain their power...
"Did you see it?" Seeing Young Master John come back to his senses, Salomon quickly leaned in.
"I... I saw it." Young Master John seemed a little disbelieving. He stretched out his hand, wanting to touch the spirits, but seemed afraid of disturbing them and withdrew his chubby fingers. "We actually left so many spirits here without dealing with them..."
"That's because someone is controlling them." Salomon narrowed his eyes and looked ahead, quietly making a gesture. He said, "Can you still punch? Now we have to face them."
"What?" John was a little confused.
"Hungry again, my dears?" An old lady wearing a dark blue wide-brimmed hat extended a finger with a ring on it. Her white hair peeked out from the edge of her hat, and there was an orange-red ribbon on the crown, with a light blue feather clipped to it.
She was wearing a dark blue thick coat that was a bit exaggerated even for this season. The light blue soft fur collar covered her chin, its length even reaching the pearl earrings on her earlobes.
She extended her hand and said with a smile, "Alright then, you can devour their souls, but return to your long sleep immediately afterward..."
This old lady was referring to two tourists standing in front of an exhibit, and she was standing behind these two tourists—no one could see her, except for Salomon and Young Master John.
Before the spirits could make any move, a beam of positive energy shot towards a spirit charging at the tourists. The distorted specter let out a silent wail, an expression of pain on its face, which stretched into a terrifying shape.
"Who's there!" The old lady's expression instantly changed, and she glared fiercely behind her. Although Salomon had told Young Master John not to hold back, still...
"Are you sure you want me to hit an old lady?" he said hesitantly.
"Of course, but not now, you fool. You've lost the chance for a sneak attack. You'd better protect me instead." Salomon rolled his eyes. He said, "You wasted the opportunity to attack."
"Hey, ma'am..." Young Master John tried to step forward to greet her, but was quickly knocked to the ground by a magic spell from the old lady's ring.
"I smell the stench of foreign magic." She said with a look of disgust. A large amount of magic flowed from the ring onto the ground, driving the spirits closer. Young Master John and Salomon, who had just scrambled up from the floor, could only keep retreating.
The old lady stood her ground. She said, "I am Emily Tuttle, the fourth-generation guardian. These blind passersby cannot see... Every day I use my secret methods to control these dangerous pagan evil spirits around here and prevent wizards like you from awakening them!"
Her tone grew higher and higher, as if she were a deity standing on Mount Olympus, and Salomon was Tantalus about to be punished. Salomon kept retreating, avoiding the spreading magic and spirits. Young Master John also got up and stood in front of Salomon with a look of horror, raising his fists, trying to ward off the approaching spirits.
"Fists are useless against these things, Senior Brother." Salomon unhurriedly pulled out some silver powder. As he chanted a spell, the silver powder was sprinkled on Young Master John, turning into white specks of light. "Charge through and take off her ring. Those spirits can't get close to you now."
"Are you sure it works?" Young Master John said. In his opinion, the situation was still open for negotiation, but after Salomon cast the spell, the inexplicable fear in his heart disappeared. He shouted, "Mrs. Tuttle, we are not..."
"It's Miss Tuttle!"
"Alright, Miss Tuttle... we don't want to awaken these spirits..."
"Yes." Salomon could only interject, "This is not our intention."
"You are not wizards?" Emily Tuttle did not hear or see Salomon casting the spell. Salomon's incantation and casting movements were blocked by John's figure.
"We..." Young Master John didn't know how to answer for a moment, as he hadn't yet signed a contract or undergone magical training.
"Stop talking nonsense, John. Her method of restraining these specters is to let them devour souls, and where do souls come from..." Salomon no longer hesitated. He used words to put the opponent in an evil position, so that Young Master John would act—because the conversation was about to break down.
"Alright." Young Master John no longer hesitated. He charged forward, deftly dodging the restraints of the magic, and forcefully pushed through the spirits... Then he was restrained by the magic flowing on the ground. A huge force pulled Young Master John down, kneeling on the ground.
Emily Tuttle hadn't had many proper fights either. Before this, the wizards who came to the British Museum looking for spirits were all minor characters who knew a little magic and only a few spells. They were no match for Emily Tuttle, who possessed one of the Rings of Vishanti.
After Young Master John was restrained, Emily Tuttle was very proud. In her opinion, Salomon and Young Master John couldn't escape today—she seemed to think Salomon was like the low-level wizards she had encountered before.
Salomon didn't stop casting. He swallowed a grasshopper leg with disgust.
Jump spell, a grasshopper leg is a necessary casting material, and this isn't the most disgusting.
"I must learn to cast spells without materials." Even this disgusting feeling did not interrupt the incantation. After the spell was finished, Salomon stepped on the bench and ran forward. He deftly dodged the magic on the ground and leaped forcefully at the end of the bench.
The Book of Vishanti contains the most powerful known white magic and defensive magic in the world. The spells it records can never be used for offense, only defense. Therefore, Salomon could only fight using the spells provided by the memories in the Stigma—like that grasshopper leg, which was for casting the "Jump Spell."
Salomon's jump distance became three times the original. He jumped straight towards Emily Tuttle. The moment he landed, Salomon's speed was twice as fast as before.
After landing, Salomon took out a small dagger from the pouch on his waist and threw it at Emily Tuttle.
Seeing the sharp dagger cut through the air, about to touch Emily Tuttle's coat.
Suddenly, a shockingly vast surge of magic erupted around Emily Tuttle, pushing away the approaching Salomon and Young Master John lying on the ground. Salomon tumbled several times on the floor. He felt as if dynamite had exploded next to the back of his head. He couldn't see anything and was even semi-conscious for a few seconds. He couldn't even think.
He felt like his brains were being shaken... In the end, it was the quicker-to-recover Young Master John who yanked him up, and he regained consciousness. But he still felt that half of his vision was black, and the souls of all the tourists he saw seemed to have left their bodies, with colorful halos around them.
"What do we do now?"
"Hit her!"
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