Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 43
Chapter 43 – A Silver Strand
The swift landing of arrows around her snapped Amelia out of her trance. The attacks seemed to be endless, casting a blazing inferno across the vastness of the open space.
Staring at the scorching heat, Amelia chanted a spell silently in her mouth. A soft, glowing light then emerged from the tip of her wand, growing so brightly it’s almost blinding.
Innumerable bright silk threads ribboned out from her wand, stretching like vines and shooting at an accelerated speed towards the witch. It circled the witch like a ring of fire rapidly, reeling and closing in on her as it trapped her into a silk cocoon.
With a loud bang, the cocoon fell and rolled to the ground as the witch tried to break free of the threads that chained her. After struggling for a short while, the cocoon laid still on the ground, unmoving and completely motionless.
It seemed like the worst had come to an end.
Amelia lowered the wand to her side. She turned around and asked, “Is anyone hurt?”
Rita emerged from the crowd, about to commend Amelia for a job well done when her eyes grew wide, and shouted warningly. “Behind you!”
Seeing Rita’s panic stricken face, a cold, sudden wind came out from behind Amelia. She immediately ran two steps at a time, successfully dodging the assault.
She gripped her wand and pointed it towards the cocoon, shooting more silk threads as it wrapped around the witch’s hand that had managed to break free. Amelia scooted closer and wrapped the cocoon a few more times for good measure.
Amelia huffed, and Rita took her by the hand and dragged her away from the aftermath. “Are you alright?”
Amelia lowered her head, and glanced at her silver wand. She was drained to the core, but she shook her head to ease Rita’s worries away. “I’m okay.”
What happened? After careful retrospection, why did it feel like her magic weakened tremendously?
The knights gathered in front of the cocoon and tied it firmly before hauling it away. They also cleaned the place up, which was full of debris and scorch marks.
“Your magic is great indeed.” Debra said admittedly, “No wonder the Pope himself praised you.” She turned around, and ordered the knights to bring the cocoon to the torture chambers.
Although honest her remark was, everyone could still hear the underlying bitterness behind her words. This was Debra after all.
“Right.” Rita smirked. “So unlike someone who only stayed behind the knights, watching and nearly pissing herself from fright.”
Debra fumed on her spot, her fists clenched to her sides. She took a deep breath, ignoring Rita’s demeaning words and faced Amelia. “I meant what I said. Your magic is really good, but it is not as good as mine. I will do anything to get my hands on the Chief position. As long as I’m here, I will do absolutely everything to bring you down. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Rita stepped forward, about to rebut when Amelia stopped her. Amelia turned and smiled at Debra. “Okay. I look forward to it.”
Please for the love of god just take it from me right now! Amelia thought desperately.
Debra seethed upon catching sight of Amelia’s smile. She scoffed, not bothering to hide her glare before stomping out of the place.
Rita laughed, clearly delighted at Debra’s tantrums as she said satisfyingly, “I finally know what irks Debra. Your mere presence is enough to vex her, it’s really amusing.”
Rita really was amused. She doubled in laughter as she clutched on her stomach while holding onto Amelia’s arm. Amelia waited for her friend’s laughter to die down. She dragged her to the dungeons, and they saw the witch out of the cocoon, and she was now hung up on the torture device.
The witch was still squirming even though her hands and feet were handcuffed with tight leather with nail studs on them. She was like a snake, trying miserably to break free from the clamps that held her.
Her wrists were chafed from the rough texture of leather straps. With her relentless thrashing, the material rubbed her skin raw, making blood ooze down to her skinny wrists.
Amelia took one last glance at the witch. She was about to turn and leave the dungeon when a glinting white caught her eyes. She narrowed her eyes, and saw a familiar silver hair stuck on the witch’s robe.
She stood still for a moment. Subtly looking at her surroundings before bending over and picking up the strand of hair.
Silvery white, rough, and it glinted in the faint moonlight against the darkness.
How familiar this hair strand is. I just saw this a few days ago.
Amelia bit her lower lip, fuming as she came to a realization.
