Clinging to the Witcher world to become a god of martial arts

Lorne felt as if he had been struck by lightning, his mind going completely blank.

Enderic... the embodiment of fairness in that world, the high priest of the Court of Order?

The notary of Lady Elena's soul contract.

"It seems you've heard of His name." Lorne's reaction was observed by Sodrion.

It held the crystal ball, which emitted a dazzling light, in front of Lorne: "This is a memory crystal, which records the whole story of that incident."

"And... the true face of the so-called true spirit." Sodrion couldn't help but sigh.

The true face... Lorne reached for the memory crystal.

The instant the index finger gently touched the sphere, a white light enveloped everything, causing a brief loss of consciousness.

...

The tree canopy pierces through the clouds.

A sacred place in the forest, shrouded in the shadow of a giant tree.

A silvery light, like two moons shining brightly, floated above the sacred altar.

A handsome male elf, wearing a golden crown, knelt before the altar.

It gently raised its dark green eyes, its long silver hair flying, and the gilded cloak behind it fluttering in the wind.

"The twenty-third Elf King Orion failed his ancestors, ultimately failing to take that step and ascend to the ranks of the True Spirits..."

The change happened suddenly.

The earth trembled slightly, and foul resentment rose up.

Countless enormous vortexes, formed from tangible despair and dark energy, instantly enveloped the entire ancient elven forest.

The towering ancient silver-leaved trees turned gray and cracked at a visible speed, as if their life essence had been drained, groaning under the unbearable burden.

The devastating shockwave did not engulf Lorne.

At this moment, he seemed to have gained a god-like perspective, silently observing everything from the sidelines.

Nearly a hundred elves with radiant skin and long, flowing silver hair knelt behind the Elf King Orion, and a sense of oppression permeated the entire elven sanctuary.

Were they the precursors of the Kenlar elves?

Lorne simply couldn't reconcile these exquisitely sculpted creatures with the ugly elves of the settlement.

The enormous gap made his breathing increasingly heavy.

The screen continued to scroll.

The sky twists downwards.

Countless intricate dark runes enveloped the elven sanctuary like a roaring black storm.

The light collapsed, and the shadows writhed like living things, coalescing into a thin, gaunt figure on the horizon.

The Elf King Orion bowed to the figure in black robes: "Orion greets Lord Endric."

A series of question marks filled Lorne's mind.

He vaguely saw Enderic when he signed the soul contract.

It was a sacred hall, with luminous human figures in white robes and gilded robes.

It is definitely not the old man with sunken eyes and a cold face in the dark vortex in the picture.

"You fled from the Northern Continent to the Southern Continent, and it's been quite a search for you, Orion." Enderic's voice was sharp, carrying an invisible anger.

He waved his hand gently, and the jet-black energy poured down along with the dark patterns.

These dark energies roared and howled at his fingertips, transforming into complex curse runes that flew towards the elves.

"A race inherently kind, yet possessing uncontrollable talents—this is the injustice of the world!"

"Aaaaaaahh ...

The screams of nearly a hundred elves merged into a deafening roar.

"Lord Endric! I am willing to extract my 'Spirit Vision' talent from my bloodline and offer it up before you spare my people!"

Dark red veins bulged on Orion's face, and his smooth skin cracked.

Suddenly, pale green plant veins lit up its forehead, dispelling all the darkness and healing the people around it.

"It's no use." A humanoid void rift appeared behind Enderic, devouring light, energy, and everything.

It was as if it connected to the darkness of another dimension.

"I have severed the connection between your stigmata and the World Tree. There is no need for further futile resistance."

Both Enderic and Orion are Stigmata Wizards!

Lorne was shocked. He couldn't understand the battle between the Saint Mark Wizards; it had clearly reached another level.

There were no spell-based attacks, and no close-quarters combat.

The invisible standoff between the two was more terrifying than any battle he had ever witnessed.

Enderic was not like a holy wizard clad in black robes, but rather a walking abyss.

Wherever it goes, darkness pervades and the laws of nature crumble.

Vast swathes of the sky collapsed, and the blackness, a symbol of death, spread like ink dripped into clear water, rapidly enveloping the entire forest.

"In the name of order, today I hereby cast a blood curse upon the Kenlar race!"

"The innate talent of 'spiritual vision' is unfair to other races; it is a sin."

"Second crime: The Elf King Orion attempted to defy the laws of heaven and forcibly ascend to a higher level of existence. He shall be annihilated."

Darkness surged toward the veins of vegetation on Orion's forehead, completely engulfing the pale green color like a spider web.

"Eternal damnation!"

One grotesque dark hand after another covered Orion's body, dragging him into the dark vortex.

It tried to resist, but to no avail, and in the end, only a look of despair remained in its eyes.

The battle ended quickly, almost entirely due to Enderic's one-sided crushing victory.

Perhaps Orion's current fate was sealed the moment he failed to ascend to the True Spirit realm.

It's heartbreaking to wonder whether Endric's reason for casting the Bloodborne Curse on the Kenlar was for the sake of so-called fairness and order, or simply out of jealousy.

Lorne couldn't fathom it.

He recalled the diagrams for creating the "vision" rune that Sodrion had given him.

This was originally an innate talent of the Kenlar clan, representing the inheritance from generation to generation, but it ultimately ended up being depicted on paper.

Vision has long been stripped away; it no longer belongs solely to them.

Regarding Enderic's actions, everyone has their own standards for judging right and wrong.

In this cruel world, when you've exhausted all your strength, wasted your entire life, and finally barely become a formal wizard...

There is a race that, without any effort, is destined to become a formal wizard from birth.

How should this be judged?

In this situation, whether Endric acted out of jealousy or for some other purpose becomes less important...

The video continues.

After eliminating Orion, Enderic cast the Bloodborne Curse completely.

Intermittent whimpers lingered in the air as darkness greedily poured into the bodies of every elf.

"From this point onward, any member of this race who attempts to open the sea of ​​the spirit will inevitably cause his people to shed tears of pain and despair, which he will then use to his advantage."

"Those who attempt to convert magic power must eat the flesh and blood of their own kind."

"Unable to form a holy mark in his lifetime."

"The curse will stay with the soul forever, until it perishes."

Enderik recounted everything calmly, as if he were talking about a trivial matter.

And in that invisible realm, this rule seemed to be subtly established, disappearing into the shadows along with the darkness...