Chapter 54: Barrow, the Mad Bloodman
Xiwen drifted backwards, widening the gap between himself and the Blood Man Barrow.
As his breath grew steady, he curled his lips in a faint smile and uttered a line tinged with youthful bravado:
“Interesting.”
Barrow, of course, would not allow him much respite. With the clinking of shackles echoing, Barrow swiftly closed the distance and swung his blade once more.
Unlike his earlier sluggish response, Xiwen instantly recalled his past combat experience, blending it with the unique movements of a ghost. He quickly devised a countermeasure.
He abruptly lifted his body, drawing his legs up before him. At that very moment, Barrow’s curved blade barely missed Xiwen’s toes.
Then, leveraging the ghost’s ability to float, Xiwen executed a gravity-defying roll in midair. As he somersaulted over Barrow’s head, he tapped it lightly, causing Barrow to stumble, and Xiwen landed smoothly.
Barrow immediately felt mocked, angrily brandishing his blade, creating a near-impenetrable wall of steel around himself.
Having already suffered one blow, Xiwen was well aware of the blade’s peculiar properties and had no wish for another wound.
“A bit troublesome,” he remarked, though his expression betrayed no seriousness.
He pressed his hands together, then suddenly spread them apart!
A sword of fiery orange-red light appeared in his grasp—
The Sacred Sword of Vishanti!
Xiwen easily spotted the flaw in Barrow’s technique, and in a flash, deflected the soul-harming curved blade, pressing the glowing sword against Barrow’s throat.
“You’ve lost, Barrow,” Xiwen said calmly.
Barrow’s pupils contracted sharply, staring in disbelief at the Sacred Sword of Vishanti before him. He muttered, “Impossible… this can’t be…”
“Nothing is impossible, Mr. Barrow.” Xiwen gazed at his defeated opponent and could not help but laugh freely.
“Watch out!” Helena’s voice rang from afar.
Suddenly, Barrow moved! Taking advantage of Xiwen’s relaxed guard, he pressed forward, letting the sword pierce through his throat. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Barrow’s curved blade swept viciously toward Xiwen.
“What?” Xiwen realized his error. He had forgotten that a ghost, already dead, lacked a tangible form. His sword could not truly harm Barrow, nor force him to yield.
Knowing he could not evade the strike, Xiwen closed his eyes…
Helena rushed across the hall from the opposite side, witnessing Barrow’s blade cleave through Xiwen’s translucent form…
“No—”
Xiwen’s soul body dissolved into a dazzling swarm of butterflies.
Then, his figure—dark-haired and dark-eyed—reassembled at the far side of the hall.
Floating beside a black curtain, Xiwen steadied himself, breathing heavily in lingering fear.
Though he used Hogg’s ancient body to absorb Barrow’s blow and then transformed into Eken’s form to distance himself from the battle, seemingly unharmed, forcing his soul form to borrow Hogg’s ancient body was a first across both his lives, leaving his spirit severely taxed.
Once recovered, he offered Helena a reassuring glance, then turned a dark, furious gaze toward the stunned Blood Man Barrow.
“Very good, Barrow,” Xiwen rasped, barely containing his rage.
This time, Xiwen was truly enraged. He flung a crimson chain that wrapped and bound Barrow’s translucent body.
“This is impossible! How can you cast a spell that affects ghosts?!” Barrow struggled frantically, but his efforts were in vain; the chain’s grip was unbreakable.
“Nothing is impossible,” Xiwen replied coldly.
‘Because this is the spell of the demon Cyttorak of the Crimson Cosmos. No one is more adept at binding souls than demons,’ he silently added.
Xiwen floated before Barrow, extended a slender forefinger, and pressed it to Barrow’s brow.
A golden magical seal appeared at Xiwen’s fingertip, sinking into Barrow’s head from between his brows.
Barrow’s eyes lost focus.
…
A vast forest unfolded before him—beeches, oaks, black pines and countless trees flourished, vibrant with life.
A strange man, clad in gray wizard robes and wearing a curved blade at his waist, walked through the woodland. His hair was disheveled, a drooping moustache framing his mouth, and his chin bore unshaven stubble, lending him a fierce look.
After a few steps, he drew a copper needle from his pocket, placing it in his palm.
The needle, much thicker than a sewing needle, spun rapidly in his hand. After a moment, it stopped, its tip pointing deep into the forest.
The man nodded in satisfaction and followed the needle’s direction.
Not far ahead, a clear lake nestled among towering trees.
A witch in pristine white robes walked barefoot along the shore. Her gown was so spotless that even the sandy pebbles lining the lakeside could not soil its hem.
A cascade of silky black hair fell to her waist, teasing breezes lifting a lock to reveal her delicate, beautiful face.
Suddenly, sensing something, she halted, drew an ornate wand from her waist, and pointed it across the lake.
“Helena, it’s me.” The moustachioed, peculiar man appeared at the lakeside, waving eagerly to the witch.
Disgust flickered across her features as she replied coldly, “I’ve come this far, yet you still cling to me like a parasite!”
The man spread his hands, feigning innocence. “This time is different. Lady Ravenclaw asked me to bring you back.”
The witch’s resolve did not waver; she replied with a stern face, “Go back yourself. Tell Mother I don’t wish to return to Hogwarts yet.”
The man said, “Helena, don’t make this hard for me.”
She replied, “There’s no need for you to struggle. I simply don’t want to go back! Blame me for everything and you’ve done your duty.”
Growing agitated, the man walked closer—now just steps from the witch.
His voice rose sharply. “Helena, after all this time, don’t you understand my feelings? If you come back with me, no matter what you’ve done, I’ll plead for you with Lady Ravenclaw!”
“No need!” she retorted loudly. “I told you, there’s nothing possible between me and a madman like you!”
The man gave a bitter laugh. “And if I force you to come with me?”
She sneered, raising her wand. “How will you take me? Kill me with your precious curved blade and bring my corpse back?”
He finally lost control, drawing his blade and shouting hysterically, “Do you believe I’d really dare?!”
She answered coldly, “You’re welcome to try.”
Unable to contain his fury, the man drew the curved blade from his waist…
…
In the ghost hall, Xiwen stared fiercely at Blood Man Barrow, eyes blazing.
“Helena was right—you truly are a madman!”
…
…