Apparently, due to the magic wielded by Salomon, the invisible spirits here were visibly aroused.
"I'm feeling a little unwell…" Wong glanced around suspiciously, feeling a chill envelop him.
What neither Salomon nor Wong noticed was that their attire was somewhat conspicuous. Salomon wore a robe made of red holy shroud cloth. This was to prevent excessive unfolding of the stigmata, which would scorch his brain and annihilate his soul. Wong, on the other hand, wore the brown training uniform common in Kamar-Taj… besides brown, gray and khaki were also available.
But in the 21st century, no one dressed this way anymore, especially in early autumn. Even with air conditioning in the museum, maintaining a suitable temperature and humidity was crucial for preserving the collection.
Seeing a security guard approach, Salomon quickly pulled Wong deeper into the museum. He assumed their furtive demeanor had drawn attention, but he was oblivious to the fact that his own aesthetic had become assimilated—because nearly every mage he remembered wore robes.
Passing through the large atrium, domed with 3,312 triangular glass panels, Salomon and Wong arrived at the Egyptian Pavilion. Home to many of the collections looted from the French by the British during Napoleon's defeat in Egypt, the collection numbered over 100,000 pieces and was the most concentrated area of magical energy.
"What are you looking at?" Wong seemed a little irritated at not being able to see what he was supposed to see, but Salomon still forcefully pinned him down on a public bench. He addressed the chubby, panting Wong: "Enter meditation, and you'll see those things."
Honestly, Wong's behavior was indeed somewhat disruptive to public order; sitting cross-legged on a bench was somewhat uncivilized. To rectify this, Salomon stepped a little further away from Wong.
"Don't look at me, I don't recognize that person."
When Wong reopened his eyes, he didn't notice anything wrong with Salomon. Instead, he was stunned by the sight before him… countless gigantic, twisted spirits hovered over the collection.
If the power of a single artifact were contained within a single collection, it wouldn't have attracted these spirits. However, the British had looted far too many artifacts from overseas, each exhibited according to different civilizations. The power of a single pantheon resonated and amplified, and these wandering spirits needed to maintain their own strength…
"Did you see that?" Salomon observed Master Wong regain his composure and quickly approached him.
"I… I saw it." Master Wong seemed incredulous. He reached out, wanting to touch the spirits, but then, fearing disturbance, withdrew his chubby fingers. "We've left so many spirits here unattended…"
"That's because someone's controlling them." Salomon narrowed his eyes, staring ahead, and silently gestured. "Can you still throw a punch? We're about to face them now."
"What?" Master Wong was puzzled.
"Hungry again, little cuties?" An elderly woman in a dark blue, wide-brimmed hat held out a ringed finger before her. Her white hair peeked out from the brim of the hat, which was adorned with an orange-red ribbon and a light blue feather tucked into it.
She wore a thick, dark blue coat, a bit outrageous even for this season. The soft, light blue fur at the collar covered her chin, reaching down to the pearl earrings on her ears.
She extended her hand and said with a smile, "Very well, you can devour their souls, but then return to eternal sleep…"
The old woman was referring to two visitors standing in front of the exhibit. She was standing behind them—unseen by anyone except Salomon and Wong.
Before the spirits could react, a beam of positive energy blasted one charging toward the visitors. The twisted ghost let out a silent wail, its face a grimace of pain, its features elongated in a terrifying manner.
"Who's there?" The old woman's expression shifted instantly, and she glared back fiercely. Although Salomon had already told Wong not to show mercy…
"Are you sure you want me to hit an old woman?" he asked hesitantly.
"Of course, but it's too late now, you idiot. There's no chance of a sneak attack. You better protect me," Salomon said, rolling his eyes. "You've wasted the opportunity to attack."
"Hey, lady…" Wong tried to greet her, but was quickly knocked to the ground by a spell emanating from the old woman's ring.
"I smell the stench of foreign magic," she said with disgust. A large amount of magic flowed from the ring onto the ground, driving the spirits closer. Wong and Salomon, who had just climbed to their feet, could only retreat.
The old woman stood still and said, "I am Amelia Tuttle, the fourth-generation guardian. These blind passersby can't see… every day, I use my secret magic to control these dangerous pagan evil spirits around me and prevent wizards like you from awakening them!"
Her voice rose in pitch, as if she were a god standing on Mount Olympus, and Salomon was Tantalus about to be punished. Salomon retreated, dodging the encroaching magic and spirits. Wong, after climbing to his feet, stood before him with a look of terror, raising his fists and attempting to repel the approaching spirits.
"Fists are useless against these things, Brother," Salomon calmly produced a handful of silver powder. As he chanted an incantation, the powder sprinkled over Wong, transforming into specks of white light. "Go over there and remove her ring. Now those spirits can't get close to you."
"Are you sure it will work?" Wong asked. He felt there was still hope for the situation, but after Salomon cast the spell, the inexplicable fear within him had dissipated. He shouted, "Mrs. Tuttle, we're not…"
"It's Miss Tuttle!"
"Okay, Miss Tuttle… we don't want to awaken these spirits…"
"Yes," Salomon interjected. "That's not our purpose."
"Aren't you wizards?" Amelia Tuttle hadn't heard or seen Salomon cast the spell; his incantations and movements were blocked by Salomon's presence.
"We…" Wong was momentarily unsure how to respond. After all, he hadn't yet signed a contract or begun magical training.
"Stop talking nonsense, Wong. She restrains these spirits by having them devour souls. And where do souls come from…" Salomon hesitated, using his words to position him in a strategic stance and get Wong moving—the conversation was about to collapse.
"Alright." Wong didn't hesitate. He charged forward, nimbly dodging the magical constraints and charging through the spirits… then he was bound by the magic flowing through the ground. The immense force pulled him down, bringing him to his knees.
Amelia Tuttle hadn't seen much serious combat. Prior to this, the wizards who had come to the British Museum searching for spirits were minor figures with limited magical skills, knowing only a few incantations. They stood no chance against Amelia Tuttle, who possessed one of the Rings of Vishanti.
After Wong was restrained, Amelia Tuttle was elated. She felt that Salomon and Wong wouldn't escape today—she seemed to believe that Salomon was no different from the lesser wizards she'd encountered before.
Salomon didn't stop casting the spell. He swallowed a grasshopper with disgust, swallowing it backward.
The grasshopper's hind legs were a necessary ingredient for the Jump spell, but that wasn't the worst part.
"I must learn how to cast spells without ingredients." Even this nausea didn't interrupt his spell. After completing it, Salomon ran forward on the bench, deftly dodging the magic on the ground and leaping to his feet at the end.
The Book of Vishanti contains the most powerful known white magic and defensive magic. The spells contained within it must never be used offensively, only defensively. Therefore, Salomon could only fight with the spells granted by the memories within his stigmata—for example, the grasshopper leg, which was used to perform the "Jump" spell.
Salomon's leaping distance tripled, and he leaped straight toward Amelia Tuttle. The moment he landed, Salomon's speed doubled.
After landing, Salomon pulled a small dagger from his waist pouch and flung it at Amelia Tuttle.
Just as the sharp dagger sliced through the air, about to touch Amelia Tuttle's coat, a terrifying surge of magical energy erupted from her body, pushing both Salomon and Wong lying on the ground away. Salomon somersaulted to the ground, feeling as if dynamite had exploded near the back of his head. He lost sight and was semi-conscious for several seconds. He couldn't even think.
He felt like his brain was being shaken apart… In the end, Wong, who was more alert than anyone else, twisted him upright, and he regained consciousness. But he still felt as if his vision was half-black, and the souls of all the visitors he saw seemed to have left their bodies, surrounded by colorful halos.
"What do we do now?"
"Beat her!"
-End Chapter-
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