Chapter 589 Ambush 5

Chapter 589: Chapter 589 Ambush 5

The Priestess was not only their spiritual leader; she was also one of the smartest among them.

So, swallowing his pride and frustration, the Deputy Chieftain turned to her for guidance, ready to listen to whatever suggestion she had.

"We don’t have anyone we can rely on here aside from our new Queen and our own Chieftain..." the Priestess said, stating the obvious.

Judging by the way these attackers had planned their assault, she was beginning to realize that the undercurrents surrounding the throne succession were far more complicated than they had initially assumed.

There were clearly people working in the shadows to undermine Addison, and by sheer circumstance, the Tigrens had been dragged into the middle of that struggle. Now, they had become nothing more than another thorn in their enemies’ eyes.

The Priestess understood that trying to contact either Addison or their Chieftain would be extremely difficult, especially while they were trapped here and surrounded by enemies. That left them with only one option and that is to stall for time.

They needed to hold out and pray that either Addison, their Chieftain, or someone from the Alpha King’s forces would eventually realize something was wrong. They had been traveling toward the villa for some time now, yet they had still failed to arrive. Surely, someone would eventually notice their absence and come looking for them.

And although there were enemies lurking around their Queen’s side, the Priestess was certain that not everyone surrounding Addison was their enemy. In fact, she had a strong suspicion that the very reason their attackers had gone to such lengths to divert them away from the villa was because the villa was filled with the Alpha King’s people.

Those people would inevitably notice that the Tigrens had yet to arrive.

And once they did, they would surely send someone to investigate.

As long as they could survive until then, the situation might finally turn in their favor. The Alpha King’s people would discover what had happened and, upon realizing that the Tigrens had been ambushed, would undoubtedly send reinforcements.

"Let’s hold on until our Chieftain and Queen arrive to back us up," the Priestess added.

She tapped the tip of her staff against the ground, and a faint pulse of magic spread outward from her feet. She immediately began chanting, weaving a series of support spells meant to strengthen and aid the warriors fighting around her.

As a White Witch, however, her magic lacked the destructive power of a Magician. Her strength lay not in overwhelming an enemy with raw magical force, but in supporting others through rituals, blessings, curses, and various forms of spiritual magic.

Perhaps that was the fundamental difference between Witches and Magicians.

Magicians tended to specialize in offensive and versatile spells, capable of directly manipulating their magic to attack, defend, or adapt to different situations. Witches, whether White or Dark, relied far more heavily on rituals and chanting, their magic taking longer to invoke but often producing effects that went beyond simple destruction.

A Dark Witch might use those rituals to curse an enemy, weaken their body, or bring misfortune upon them.

A White Witch, on the other hand, could use the same principles to strengthen allies, heal wounds, protect the body, or bolster the spirit.

And right now, the Priestess was putting that distinction to use.

She might not have been able to turn the battlefield around with a devastating spell, but every blessing she cast could keep another warrior standing for just a little longer.

They didn’t need her to kill their enemies.

They simply needed her to help them survive.

After finishing the chant, the warriors who had been dragged back into the core of the formation—many of them bleeding heavily — suddenly felt the pain of their wounds begin to lessen. Their massive, torn wounds slowly knitted themselves back together, flesh closing as the healing magic coursed through their bodies.

Normally, their beasts would have been able to accelerate their own healing, allowing even severe injuries to mend far faster than those of ordinary creatures. But with the Black Ebony Grass suppressing their beasts and cutting them off from that ability, they could no longer rely on their natural regeneration.

Without treatment, some of the warriors would eventually become too weak to even stand, while those who had lost too much blood could simply bleed to death.

The Priestess could not allow that to happen.

She continuously channeled her magic into the spell, maintaining its effects even as she began another chant. There were simply too many wounded for her to tend to individually, and their Clan had never had the luxury of a specialized healer or doctor.

As the Priestess, she was usually the one who cared for minor illnesses, treated the sick pups, and looked after the elderly. When it came to injuries, however, most of their warriors simply endured the pain and rested until their bodies healed on their own.

They had never imagined they would one day face a situation where so many of them would be wounded at once.

Only now did they realize just how desperately they needed someone capable of treating injuries on this scale if their own regenerative ability failed.

But there was no time to dwell on that.

The Priestess gritted her teeth and continued chanting, forcing herself to maintain the spell despite the strain. She could not save everyone perfectly, but she could at least keep them alive.

For now, that was all she could do.

She would simply have to give them everything she had.

"Priestess, don’t push yourself too hard..." the Deputy Chieftain said worriedly, his eyes fixed on her.

The Priestess stood at the heart of the formation, gripping her staff tightly with both hands as she kept her eyes closed and continued chanting. Her breathing had grown heavier, and beads of sweat had begun to gather across her forehead before slowly trailing down her temples.

She was attempting to heal several dozen severely wounded Tigren at the same time, forcing her magic through the spell and into every injured warrior within its range. It was an enormous burden even for someone of her strength, and the strain was already beginning to show on her body.

The Priestess didn’t respond. Instead, the moment the chant for her healing spell came to an end, she immediately began chanting another spell without giving herself even a moment to rest.

This time, her magic spread toward the warriors fighting along the front line, wrapping around their bodies like an invisible armor. Their fighting spirit was bolstered, their strength steadied, and their defenses greatly increased.

Their skin thickened beneath the influence of her magic, becoming as tough as iron and allowing them to withstand attacks that would have otherwise torn through their flesh.

But the protection would only last for five minutes.

Once those five minutes were up, she would have to cast the spell again, replenishing the warriors’ enhanced defenses if she wanted to keep them safe.

Fortunately, she believed she wouldn’t have to maintain it forever. She only needed to keep supporting them until the Tigren warriors’ bodies had completely expelled the toxins coursing through their veins.