Siderius kicked open the iron gate. He walked into the courtyard in a slow deliberate manner.

Ashe stood a little farther away from Siderius, leading Red by its reins.

The hunter and his apprentice entered the Bailiff's manor. One wore a frosted fur cloak with the head of a bear as a hood. The other wore a deep dark cloak of the panther.

They were both armored to the teeth, covering every single weak point on their body. Their armor had exceptional quality, strapping tightly onto their body.

And their uniform underneath looked more well made than anything the people of Mucktown had ever seen.

At a first glance, they all knew these two weren't ordinary people. They had a lot of class. Something even noble couldn't replicate.

The soldiers saw it. The soldiers understood they were dangerous.

The twenty personal soldiers of the Bailiff formed a protective line in front of his door. Each held a spear in their hand.

"Germort! Come face me, you coward!" Siderius roared.

His face was still covered by the black scarf. They could only see his glowing golden eyes and the pristine white hair flowing in the wind. The two scabbards on his waist caught their attention. Only one of them had a blade.

Germort walked out from his manor. His eyes darted around like a sewer rat, scared of even the tiniest thing that might come out and hurt him.

But when he saw Siderius. His eyes widened.

He wasn't surprised by Siderius' appearance. Rather, he was taken aback because of the tiny amount of magic Germort could sense inside Siderius.

The stranger looked intimidated. He was fully equipped from head to toe with the eyes of an animal. But when Germort took a closer look, he found out that his mana pool was no larger than him. Both of them were unawaken witch at best, none had completed their coming-of-age ritual.

Germort let out a relief breath and wiped his sweaty forehead.

"What is this? All of you got me all worked up by a witch? Your lord is also a witch."

"He killed five of our men, my lord." A soldier said.

"And so can I. What is so impressive about that?"

"Hey you there! Why..."

While Germort was talking, Siderius took out an Explosive Projectile and slotted it into the sling. Germort turned his head toward Siderius and talked to him, only for Germort to be interrupted mid-sentence.

The clay ball screeched through the air, aiming for Germort's face.

His soldier was quick and raised his spear to interrupt the projectile. The clay ball broke and exploded, sending waves of force to the surrounding and breaking the formation of the soldiers.

Germort was sent flying back, smacking his back onto the pole of his manor. He could hear a faint crack in his bones.

Germort crawled away, struggling to get back to his feet.

"You? Fire?" His wide eyes looked at Siderius again. Now they were devoid of underestimation and filled with dread. "A fire wicca. Please, friend! There must be some kind of understanding. We can talk this out."

The soldiers managed to get back on their feet. Three of the twenty soldiers were killed in the explosion. They were the closest to the bomb. Their faces burned to a crispy black color.

Siderius didn't answer. He simply grunted. Another projectile was slotted in the sling.

The soldiers might not be genius but they knew when danger came knocking in front of their face. The commander shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Sh-i-i-i-i-eld!"

The soldiers raised their circular shields up high, ready for the impact of the explosion.

"It is useless." Siderius said. He spun the sling at their direction, the Phosphorus Projectile exploded, spreading its sticky blue flame to a lot of soldiers.

The blue flame blinded everyone dared open their eyes. The blue flame took hold of their shield, burning them to unimaginable temperature.

"Argh! It's too hot!"

The soldiers dropped their round shields as the metal began to heat up. Their arms were burned by their own shields. Not only that, the blue flame spread to their armor, clothes and hair. It kept burning like it had a life of its own.

Flame might not be the best tool of destruction. But it could be a terrifying mental challenge. Who could stay calm when their body was burning? Not a lot of people.

A majority of the soldiers broke off from their formation. Some were rolling around on the ground to try to put off the blue flame. One got Phosphorus all over his body, he turned into a living torch and ran blindly. Some tapped their gauntlets on the minor parts they were burned, but the blue flame stuck onto their gauntlets. Everywhere they touched, the blue flame spread.

The remaining soldiers that were unharmed were ones that stood the farthest away. Their hands trembled and their spears felt like a thousand tons.

Germort scattered backward. Blood disappeared from his face as he mumbled.

"Mon... Monster..."

Siderius shook his head in disapproval. He had no respect for witches. But at least, the witches in his world fought to their last breath. His world demanded them to be hard or else they would be cleansed away by the witch hunters.

The witches in this world were richer, had more resources and time to train. But they weren't warriors, just filthy nobles who thought they were gods.

The witches of this world had higher overall ranks than his world for sure. They had the opportunities to grow. But the witches of his world were much more cunning and dangerous.

Siderius slowly stepped forward. He tilted his head and scanned his gaze around the remaining soldiers. They all shrunk back instinctively.

Ashe was watching everything from behind. For some reason, a wide grin appeared on her face. She was proud of her master and the power he's showing. One day, she would be the same as him. One day...

A soldier threw his spear on the ground and raised his hands up high. "Please spare me! I surrender!"

The other soldiers looked at him in disdain.

"Coward!"

"How dare you!"

Siderius nodded to the side, gesturing to the soldier to get away. The soldier wasted no time to run as fast as he could.

"He might be a coward but at least he won't be burned to death."

The first example allowed for others to follow. Soon, more soldiers threw their spears and ran away. They all left one by one.

Until the only obstacle between Siderius and Germort was the space between.

Siderius pulled out his blade, not igniting it. He slid it into the other scabbard and soak it in the slagpaste mixture.

When he pulled it out, a dense oil was covering the dark gray blade. He pointed the tip of the blade at Germort.

"Are you going to take the coward's way out?

Or are you gonna fight?"

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