Mythology Rebooted-Chapter 58 - 55 Don’t speak I have a cleanliness obsession

58: Chapter 55 Don’t speak, I have a cleanliness obsession

58 -55 Don’t speak, I have a cleanliness obsession

The villa.

Wayne lay on the lounge chair with a telescope in hand, constantly watching for any changes in Enrold Town.

On the long table beside him, delicate pastries and red tea were arranged.

Wayne didn’t have the habit of an afternoon tea, but Philark still prepared everything meticulously, attempting to train Wayne into an elegant gentleman welcomed by high society.

Now, well…

Neither standing properly nor sitting properly, if he could sit he wouldn’t stand, if he could lie down he wouldn’t sit, embodying an approachable and unpretentious manner.

“The Magic Array has disappeared…”

Wayne stood up with his telescope, a look of joy on his face, and said, “Isabella succeeded.

She truly deserves to be my choice, my judgment was indeed accurate.

I knew she wouldn’t let me down.”

“Young Master Wayne, Lady Isabella hasn’t returned yet,” Philark said with a smile.

Understood, don’t jump to conclusions too soon, don’t pop the champagne at halftime.

Wayne nodded, indicating that he had learned something new.

Having such a reliable Butler by his side had certainly helped him avoid many detours in life.

He continued observing with his telescope.

The Hexagram above the town vanished, and the tentacles dissipated a step ahead of time.

On the positive side, the sacrifice had failed, and the townspeople were saved.

On the negative side, if the sacrifice ritual had successfully concluded, the townspeople might have all turned into mutants, and Isabella could have been divided up by now.

In other words, they just might have become a bit more corpulent, but swap that for a slender beauty, and perhaps they were lining up over there!

Wayne wanted to do something, but he was too weak to be of any help.

Although he was in the main house, his role had been completely passive, and strategically speaking, that was undoubtedly a failure.

Thinking of this, Wayne shook his head secretly.

The path to transcendence was arduous and long, his minor goals were yet to be achieved, and he shouldn’t grow arrogant due to a little progress.

To rapidly grow into a Mage capable of standing on his own, and to surpass the geniuses of the academies, he needed to work harder than anyone else.

Work hard, work to the death if needed!

Within Wayne, a spatial channel continuously supplied him with the Four Elements, allowing him to quickly replenish his Essence of Life without the need for meditation.

He was getting stronger every moment.

Being satisfied was out of the question.

Human desires are endless; once you have something, you want even more.

He felt the progress bar was moving too slowly and rued the absence of a membership recharge window to max out the download speed.

“Why can’t my golden finger be recharged with money?”

Wayne was full of regret, having believed Jose’s evil influence, heeding the malicious words of slanderers that a good game required dedication, when using money would lead to a dead end.

When writing the code, he only emphasized gaining experience and playing for game duration and flow, neglecting that the real bosses were the players who could recharge with real money.

Nowadays, who makes games without a recharge interface?

If you don’t recharge, is it even a game?

Wayne beat his chest and stomped his feet, full of regret for his shortsightedness.

Bang!

A gunshot echoed through the sky, followed by a shrill alarm.

Two maids instantly entered combat mode, manning machine guns and standing ready for battle.

Wayne looked around but sensed no magic power fluctuations.

There was not even the shadow of a ghost to be seen.

As the gunfire sounded again, Wayne looked up into the sky and saw a large gray-white bird flapping its wings and flying toward the villa.

Flying troops!

The two maids turned their guns towards the strange white Bird Monster.

The creature was out of range, and shooting at high-flying targets was far less accurate than aiming at ground targets, making it difficult for the machine guns to hit it.

Even the sniper rifle was ineffective; the bird moved too quickly.

Whoosh!

The white Bird Monster spat out a foamy sharp arrow, attacking the rooftop sniper maid.

Wayne waved his hand, conjuring a wind that blew the arrow far off course.

Exposed, the sniper maid quickly left her position to find a new vantage point.

The Bird Monster didn’t pursue but flapped its wings harder and dove straight at Wayne.

The various gadgets buried in the lawn were only effective against ground troops and air forces could only be countered by machine gun fire.

The two maids held their ground, their excellent skills driving the Bird Monster back with machine-gun fire.

The white Bird Monster let out a mournful cry, the chaotic noise assaulting the ears of the maids and the Butler, causing them nausea, splitting headaches, and preventing them from taking aimed shots.

The Butler fared somewhat better, having undergone specific training.

He could still hold on for a short while, but the three maids, bombarded by the noise, fell to their knees, retching.

The Bird Monster hovered, its foamy feathers transforming into sharp quills.

Dozens of arrow-like feathers rained down from the sky, tearing through the air with piercing screeches.

The target was not Wayne, but rather the Butler and the maids.

MD, dare to touch my people!

A glint of green light flashed in Wayne’s eyes as he once again lifted his hand.

His surging magic power leveraged the real world, pulling open a continuous curtain of fine, dense wind needles.

With his own pure Magic Power alone, Jose couldn’t cast this basic wind magic—the form of expression was wrong.

However, by drawing deep green from the natural eyes and coloring his Magic Power green, he could easily come up with the correct solution.

The curtain of rain moved upwards!

Raindrops like fine needles touched the foam-like feathers, fighting strength with weakness, winning with numbers.

After a brief standoff, the needles dispersed the large array of arrows and, with continued momentum, submerged the white bird.

The bird was pierced by thousands of fine needles, its body immune to physical attacks, instantly healing back to its original state, continuing to squawk mournfully.

He tried to stimulate and disrupt Wayne’s thinking, but the effect was quite mediocre; Wayne found it to be nothing more than noise.

The Butler and maids’ pain intensified, the two maids foaming at the mouth and fainting, occasionally convulsing.

It was not hard to imagine that the sniper maid in the house had also collapsed.

Philark’s face was pale as he propped himself on the table’s edge, struggling to maintain elegance and the dignity of his master, raising his pistol and firing into the air.

Each shot went awry, missing the mark by over ten meters.

Wayne reluctantly acknowledged that the white bird had come for him.

Continuing to fight in front of the house, regardless of the outcome, the Butler and maids were likely to go mad.

Even if they recovered, they’d probably be depressed.

He willingly abandoned the home field advantage, waving his arms to transform blades of grass into flying knives, flinging them at the bird, bit by bit driving it towards the east.

Wayne often practiced magic there and was familiar with the terrain, especially that forest, which offered him too great an advantage.

That’s the good thing about nature magic—the tools are readily at hand, and as long as it’s not a steel jungle sewer, it’s advantageous everywhere.

The white Bird Monster sensed Wayne’s intentions and complied by entering the forest.

It folded its wings and landed on the ground, its wings transforming back into arms and tentacles.

Standing at about three meters tall, it bore some resemblance to the form of the Void Lord.

The white face lacked recognizable features, with only a spiral protruding orifice—perhaps a mouth, or maybe an eye.

“Blasphemer, merge with me, and return the divine object to the Void Lord!”

“Don’t speak, I’m a germaphobe.”

Wayne had never seen such an ugly ghost and immediately felt a chill.

He wasn’t afraid of psychic disturbances, but having a toad on one’s foot was disgusting enough without it biting—it was just unpleasant to look at!

Why is each member of the Earth Core Cult stranger than the last, speaking with such a croaky voice?

Can’t any of you be normal?

Wayne didn’t want to waste words with the Bird Monster, a flash of green light in his eyes.

The branches in the forest rustled and shook, the tree trunks opened eyes and mouths like black holes, and the branches extended and twisted, wildly growing under the nourishment of magic power.

For a moment, a chaos of demons tangled.

The Bird Monster was distracted by the surrounding anomalies and didn’t notice its feet being wrapped by vines.

By the time it realized, Wayne had already repeated his trick, imprisoning it in a large vine ball, deeply buried underground.

Bang! freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Wayne clenched his fist sharply and turned to walk towards the house…

He took two steps before looking back.

Trails of foam emerged from the ground, reconstituting the sinister figure with tentacle-wrapped arms.

It was shorter, now only about 2.3 meters tall.

Tricky!

Wayne brandished Tempest and flames, even employing his tried and true method of building walls with mixed mud, but he couldn’t stop the Bird Monster’s advance.

The flesh of the Bird Monster was different from the Four Elements found everywhere in nature; ordinary magic had difficulty inflicting lethal damage on it.

The Bird Monster held its arms horizontally, its arms turning into foam and reconstituting into two Knight’s Swords gleaming with cold light.

The blades sliced the air, resonating with a hum.

Wayne paused briefly, the scene felt strangely familiar—if he wasn’t mistaken, he knew this move too.

Whoosh!

The Knight’s Sword pierced through the chest.

The Bird Monster cackled strangely, lifting Wayne with one hand, holding him high in the air.

The spiral hole on its face opened, revealing squirming tentacles as if waiting to drink its fill of fresh blood.

Not a drop was spilled.

Wayne’s eyes dimmed, and in the moment the Bird Monster was distracted, he crossed his hands and swung them.

The white flesh writhed, the fingers melting together, the arms extending and elongating, and the blade flashed with a metallic sheen as it plunged downward.

At Wayne’s chest, a sunburn-like tear ripped through the flesh, and a giant eye burst forth.

“Cackling—”