Chapter Seventy-Eight: Desperation

"Enchanted weapon!"

At the very instant the wraith lunged at Zhao Xu, he finally managed to use his "Versatile Spellcaster" feat, converting two 0-level divine spells into a single 1st-level spell—"Magic Weapon." His hands glowing with arcane light, Zhao Xu, not pausing for a moment, quickly transferred the energy to the warrior Maple Leaf's broadsword.

That broadsword, already bearing numerous scratches after just half a month, suddenly shone with a brilliant radiance, transformed into a weapon of light.

"A +1 magic weapon?" Maple Leaf exclaimed in delight as he saw the weapon information on his character sheet update.

Magic weapons are graded from +1 to +5, increasing the wielder's attack potency and damage, with additional special abilities possible. Even the simplest +1 weapon would cost at least 2000 gold pieces—far beyond the reach of current players, and not even Roya, who had run businesses for years, possessed one.

Yet the wraith, upon witnessing this, only let out a cold, raspy snort, like a chill wind blowing through the room. It paid Maple Leaf, now able to harm it, no mind at all, continuing its direct charge at Zhao Xu. It had already identified the most dangerous threat present.

"Brother Maple Leaf, hurry and hit the wraith—your weapon can hurt it now!" Yoyo, who had studied divine magic, realized what was happening and shouted anxiously. At this moment, having lost all her cleric abilities, all she could do was grip her shield helplessly.

Hearing Yoyo's words, Maple Leaf snapped back to his senses. With a resounding shout, he executed the well-practiced attack maneuvers he'd drilled daily, charging straight at the wraith and swinging his blade down fiercely.

Having completed his spell, Zhao Xu—unable to cast another within this round—could only retreat hastily. The surrounding clerics and rogues quickly raised their shields to cover him, even though they knew they too were in danger.

The bard, seeing all this, abruptly stopped his song that had been bolstering the party's morale, and the effect on everyone immediately began its five-round countdown.

The wraith, swift as ever, soared into the air, bypassing two of them in a blur and streaked straight for Zhao Xu. In an instant, Zhao Xu felt the wraith swoop down upon him, like a bat unfurling its wings.

The wraith, having broken through, felt a surge of elation. It could already envision using Zhao Xu's body to slaughter everyone present, just as it had once massacred those caravans.

A chill, shadowy power began emanating from its soul.

Yet, as the wraith drew close to envelop Zhao Xu, the protective force swirling around him erupted, forming an invisible barrier that instantly shattered the wraith's gathered possession energy.

[Adventurer Midsummer, your spell "Protection from Evil" has triggered in response to the wraith's "Possession" supernatural ability, nullifying the effect of the soul jar. For the next 1 minute (7 rounds), you are immune to this effect.]

Seeing this message pop up, even though Zhao Xu had expected as much, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Such is the invincible nature of a 1st-level Protection from Evil spell—no saving throw required, granting immunity to such effects.

At the same time, Maple Leaf finally arrived, his broadsword slashing down at the wraith. This was his first time wielding such a weapon, having only seen powerful warriors in town possess magic arms before; his heart surged with unbounded confidence.

But as the blade cut into the wraith’s form, it was as if it had sunk into water—utterly without resistance.

Maple Leaf blinked in disbelief, unable to accept that his strike had connected with nothing but an illusion.

"Keep going—unless it’s a ghost touch weapon, there’s always a fifty percent chance of missing," Zhao Xu shouted. Such is the terror of wraiths and other ethereal beings; even with magic weapons, their attackers face a fifty percent chance of their blows being lost. And this was with the wraith choosing to manifest—if it hadn’t, none present could even have seen it.

"Daze!" The bard, Frog, had stopped singing and now managed to cast his only 0-level spell. But as the spell's yellow glow shot into the wraith, it dispersed like rain vanishing into a brook, with only the faintest ripple.

Zhao Xu almost coughed up blood; what effect could a spell designed for humanoids possibly have on the undead?

But there was no time to explain. He began his own incantation—"Magic Missile."

A bolt of force, condensed from arcane power, struck the wraith, making its form quiver slightly.

[Adventurer Midsummer casts "Magic Missile," dealing damage 1d4+1=2+1=3 points.]

Only force spells can reliably affect such ethereal creatures without fail.

But this wraith was not like the skeleton Zhao Xu had encountered before, with pitifully low hit points; this small amount of damage meant little to it.

Still, Zhao Xu had gleaned the information he sought from this attack: the wraith was merely a typical example of its kind, not one bolstered by fate.

At that moment, Maple Leaf, having missed once, swung a second time, relentlessly hacking at the wraith. This time, however, his blow was deflected by the wraith’s natural resistance.

Maple Leaf's expression darkened; he hadn't expected to land a hit only to have it turned aside by the creature’s defenses.

Zhao Xu felt a chill run down his spine—just how high was this wraith’s charisma? To so easily deflect such a powerful strike with its own innate resistance?

"Fools," the wraith finally spoke, its voice laden with endless scorn. It drifted lightly before Zhao Xu and the others, raising its hand as if to sow death.

[Adventurer Midsummer attempts a Spellcraft check on the wraith—7+1d20=7+5=12. Spellcraft failed.]

Before Zhao Xu could react, a brilliant rainbow beam erupted toward them.

Prismatic Spray!

He didn’t need a successful check to recognize the spell he'd once used on Antinoia.

[Adventurer Midsummer makes a Will save: 4+1d20=4+20=24, DC18, save successful.]

A slight numbness washed over Zhao Xu, followed by a prompt.

He barely had time to be glad for his luck before realizing that around him, everything had fallen silent.

With just one Prismatic Spray, the wraith had felled four party members, plunging them all into unconsciousness. Anyone failing the save would be stunned for 2d4 rounds, then shaken for 1d4 rounds, then forcibly shaken for another round.

At best, it would take four rounds—twenty-four seconds—to recover; at worst, thirteen rounds—a full minute and a half. More than enough time for a killing blow.

"Your willpower is abysmal," Zhao Xu muttered helplessly.

He hadn’t expected even the cleric Yoyo to go down with the others, which must have meant she’d lost even her class-based saving throw bonuses.

With all obstacles removed, Zhao Xu was now as tempting to the wraith as a sumptuous feast.

The smugglers had long since fled during the chaos.

Faced with such a desperate situation, Zhao Xu simply chuckled softly.

Encountering a creature of this caliber on an outing—he couldn’t tell if it was his own misfortune, or the wraith’s.