High School of Demon Hunting-Chapter 2353 - 574: A Close Call

The spell "Kill Like Harvesting" is derived from the ancient magic ’Kill Like Planting’ and evolved into magic like ’Kill like mowing grass’ and ’Kill Like Harvesting Wheat.’ It means killing is like cutting grass or wheat, and it’s categorized as a massive destructive spell, commonly used by wizards on battlefields against enemies.

Just like now.

The giant figure suspended in mid-air recited this spell in a hoarse, chilling voice, targeting all the hunters of the school and the Trident Sword. The wide robes silently fluttered above everyone’s heads, dividing the entire battlefield into two distinct parts: half-day, half-night, while the fierce killing intent continuously surged from the night.

When the last syllable of the spell fell.

Lines of faint black threads floated out from the dense darkness, chaotic and disordered, like blades of grass casually tossed into the air, appearing weightless.

One of the threads seemed to fly in the wrong direction, drifting toward the pyramid building that had long landed, and passed through the top without any obstruction.

Ting.

Accompanied by a gentle, pleasing sound, the pyramid that was unscathed under the crazy attacks of the wizards, silently had its pinnacle slide down from the body. The cut was smooth as a mirror, with colorful magic nodes flickering along the edge, as if the magic flowing inside had not yet reacted to what had happened.

Pop.

Some golden talismans flying toward the giant figure also brushed past those black threads, making sounds like soap bubbles bursting. Originally as thin as hair, the golden bullet traces were split into halves even finer, like withering flowers, petals drooping powerlessly into the darkness.

There were also the spells cast by the wizards

and the magic circles they set up on the battlefield.

The black threads, like surgical knives in a doctor’s hand, precisely and meticulously cut everything within this small part of the world, with crackling sounds in the air, like snapped strings, which were the sounds of various magic circles, arrays, and spell formulas set up by the wizards on the battlefield, breaking apart.

Is this mowing grass?

Huddled on the ground, Zheng Qing’s mind suddenly popped up with this thought. A few seconds ago, he tried to trigger the talisman given by Old Yao as a reward, but due to the residual backlash of magic power not yet dissipated, he curled up in pain, unable to utter a word, only holding his head and hissing from the cold air intake.

He was used to headaches since childhood, and that’s why he didn’t faint from such rashness.

In the corner of his eye, not far from Atonement Hunting Team, the Red Training Hunting team’s assistants were desperately casting layers of guardian magic but could not stop the slender black lines from slowly drifting down. The spells being cut into pieces bloomed into brilliant colors mid-air, then gradually subsided into the thickening dark night.

The scattered wizards around the battlefield were fighting desperately, quietly, waiting in silence for that powerful spell to descend. No one screamed, no one pleaded, no last words.

Just like the sun setting, daylight disappeared into night.

Everything happened in silence.

"Don’t give up!"

The leader of the Red Training Hunting Team stood on the edge of the boundary between night and day, her crisp voice abruptly ringing out across the battlefield, "Run if you can, and if you can’t, don’t give up... This is the First University!"

Bam! Bam!

With each word she said, she pulled the trigger once, carelessly wasting the talismans usually kept as rare treasures. The battle results were meager, yet she showed no signs of discouragement, as if a nimble antelope, stepping lightly and hopping within a small range.

Her efforts, though unable to break the spell slowly descending above, could slightly deflect those black threads. But because of her struggle, more and more black threads surged from the night, drifting toward her.

Zheng Qing, gripping a charm gun in one hand and a talisman scroll in the other, tried to sit up. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Thirty seconds were still needed, at least thirty seconds, before he could mobilize a trace of magic power. With that trace, he could utter a spell, unleash the green snake hidden in his ear holes; could pull the trigger on the charm gun, emptying the magazine of blood-symbol bullets; could try flipping open the law book filled with the opening formulas of forbidden curses, and so on. Any one of these options would prevent him from being as defenseless as he currently was.

Without that bit of magic, he couldn’t even crush the jade talisman that Su Shijun left for his protection.

For a moment, Zheng Qing deeply regretted retracting the Haha Beads and the Double-headed Minoan prematurely.

Earlier, after Atonement staged a second-tier battle array, to prevent the treasures from being damaged and because their usefulness was diminishing, Zheng Qing had withdrawn them. Had those alchemy puppets and Minotaurs been around now, they could have at least helped drag everyone to the edge of the battlefield.

Thirty seconds.

Just thirty seconds!

The young scholarship student was despairingly helpless as he watched a few black threads crisscross, like a spiderweb, sliding toward the Red Training Hunting Team Leader standing foremost, observing her charm gun being sliced from the muzzle. His throat emitted a roar, shutting his eyes, unable to bear witnessing what would inevitably occur next.

A pair of strong hands lifted him from behind.

"Can you stand up?"

A familiar voice sounded in the young wizard’s ears, "Magic backlash? Hmm, wait, I think I still have some La Plata Water..."

Zheng Qing turned his head forcibly, feeling as though he might twist his neck. Then he saw a pair of emerald-green eyes and a familiar face.

"Thomas!" His voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Don’t get excited. That won’t help with the magic backlash." The guidance counselor who had once led him into the school pressed his shoulder and fished out a small bottle of clear liquid from his pocket, gesturing, "Quickly drink it..."

"You..."

"I’ve already said, wherever this kid is, trouble follows!" Another familiar voice came over, not without resentment, "It’s clearly vacation, and he can’t keep quiet!"

No need to turn, in Zheng Qing’s mind already emerged that careless face, decorated with a nose ring and lip studs. He twisted his head to the other side, and sure enough.

"I heard you were catching a raven?" Maybe noticing the warlock’s gaze, Assistant Hilda rolled her eyes and sneered, "Why didn’t the Trident Sword catch you? I think you are the biggest raven in school!"

"How did you..."

"How did we get here so fast?" Thomas seemed to guess the boy’s confusion, smiled slightly, then looked upward, "Thanks to Old Walter, his magic broke the spatial anchors locking the whole battlefield... Made it quite convenient for us."

Zheng Qing looked up along the assistant’s gaze.

Only then did he notice a small golden hill floating above them at some unspecified time, conjuring the huge phantom of Gold Mountain, encompassing all the wizards. The black threads drifting from the night dissipated like light feathers upon landing on the Gold Mountain phantom, without stirring a ripple.