Chapter 230 - 1 VS 45 Veteran Shadows

"You want to learn the spell?" Magna hadn’t expected that request.

He didn’t yet know that creating such a spell would earn him a golden line on his hat, if he had a Witch Hat to begin with.

Melisandre wasn’t the only one interested in his spell. When he looked around, the other blue-robed Witches were watching him with the same hungry eagerness, as though he were a delicious meal.

All he had done was use his imagination to adjust a spell pattern, yet apparently, those few changes had made him a genius on Picasso’s level in their eyes.

"Sure, but..." He was about to ask for more mana-replenishing pills or some mana-rich food in exchange when Melisandre interrupted him.

"I’ll give you anything in return. Just ask." She held his gaze as she spoke, leaving little doubt that she meant anything.

Looking into those emerald eyes against her flawless dark skin, Magna swallowed.

A beautiful woman was practically begging him, and as a perfectly healthy man, he couldn’t help having certain thoughts. Still, he pushed them aside when he remembered who he was dealing with.

This was the woman who had nearly killed him once.

Knowing that she had only intended to test his physical strength did little to make that memory more pleasant.

He still had his pride, after all, and he was mortal enough to hold on to a little resentment.

’Well, maybe I can let her beg a little longer.’ That seemed like an amusing way to settle things, especially when seeing a powerful Witch look at him so pleadingly with those large, watery eyes was such an enjoyable sight.

Renna, on the other hand, had a completely different expression.

She cleared her throat to draw their attention. "Lady Melisandre, shouldn’t you focus on your report first?"

At the reminder, Melisandre quickly straightened up, realizing how she had been behaving in front of the entire crowd.

"Um, yes. Where were we?" She lowered her eyes to her notes. "Right. Your mana capacity matches that of a 9th Trial Witch, but your mana manipulation and spell construction are advanced enough to put you among Witches who have passed their 30th Trial."

Her voice faltered toward the end as the implications of that comparison became clear to her.

As a 28th Trial Witch herself, she was assessing someone whose skills could place him above her.

That distinction mattered in the Witch World, where a Witch’s authority rose with the number of Trials she had passed.

A smaller mana capacity wouldn’t necessarily prevent them from advancing, either. As long as they had the skill to pass their Trials, they could earn the potions needed to expand their reserves.

With the abilities Magna had demonstrated, he could qualify for at least the rank of a 30th Trial Witch, which would place him above everyone in the camp, including Melisandre herself.

For now, though, he hadn’t officially earned that rank, so she gathered herself and continued the assessment.

After adding a few more lines to her report, she looked up. "I also need to assess your physical abilities." Her voice had become noticeably gentler, almost friendly.

Renna’s account had given her an idea of his strength, but she couldn’t judge its limits from a description alone. She needed to see how he moved and how he reacted.

"But how?" she whispered, her brows drawing together as she tried to think of a way to test his strength.

She looked from one Shadow to the next, searching for a suitable opponent, only to find the same problem with each of them.

None could push Magna far enough on his own to reveal the limits of his strength.

If he defeated his opponent too easily, she would learn little beyond what she already knew. The test needed to make him work hard enough to show her something more.

Using her own spells would mean spending mana she didn’t want to waste, leaving her with another option.

"All Shadows, form up together," she called out to the crowd.

Though they didn’t understand what she had in mind, the Shadows obeyed without question, assembling as the Witches stepped back to clear a space.

Of the 45 Shadows gathering before her, 20 belonged to the attack unit, their bodies enclosed in dark red metal armor with glowing lines of magma running across its surface.

Beside them assembled the water supply unit’s 10 Shadows, whose blue knight armor gave off a refreshing chill that could be felt simply by standing nearby.

The Life Witches contributed another 10, clad in vivid green or deep brown armor, some resembling layers of tree bark.

Completing the formation were the Order Witches’ 5 Shadows, the camp’s defensive force, whose bulky suits of white metal armor made them look like miniature tanks on 2 legs.

Within seconds, all 45 had taken their positions, each placed according to their role in attack, defense, or support.

They had practiced this formation to face enemies on the level of a Desolation, never imagining they would be ordered to use it against another human.

"Good. Now try to beat this man." Melisandre pointed casually at Magna, catching him just as much off guard as the Shadows.

He looked over the 45 armored figures now facing him, practically a small army in exceptionally well-made armor.

Was this Witch overestimating his capabilities?

The longer he studied them, the more he realized their equipment was only part of the problem. Their firm stances and the quiet focus with which they watched him made it clear they were experienced veterans.

Even their surprise at the order had lasted barely a fraction of a second before they focused fully on him, accepting the task without question.

That readiness made them exactly the kind of opponent he would least want to face, since anyone who took their enemy seriously from the start already had an advantage.

Yet despite knowing this, Magna felt little fear or tension as he faced them, only a growing excitement.