Chapter 122: An Unfavorable Situation

Sheep-transmutation is a form of witchcraft. Witchcraft is vast and its classification highly complex. Its fundamental difference from spellcasting lies in the fact that it rarely utilizes elements; instead, it typically employs media such as medicinal powders or potions, combined with mental energy, to cast spells. Some witchcraft can also be used for hexing or even manipulating the soul. Transfiguration, which alters the form of physical matter, is merely a branch of witchcraft.

The origins of witchcraft are said to predate those of spellcasting, tracing back to the ancient era long before the War of Gods and Demons. Driven by awe of nature, fear of death, and ignorance regarding various phenomena, a group of people emerged. They claimed to be able to communicate with the dead and attributed their success in locating rare plants or observing natural phenomena to their sorcery. Thus, they became known as the first generation of wizards.

However, these claims are unverifiable and remain mere speculations among modern sages. In truth, all stories prior to Year 0 of the Common Era were passed down orally, leaving no written records. For a considerable time after Year 0, wizards were held in high esteem by various nations, even wielding control over national destiny and policy. This status did not begin to plummet until the founding of the Church of Light in 650 CE.

The Church of Light exposed all the wizards' tricks, labeling them as grand charlatans. Leveraging their superior light-based spells, they instantly gained widespread acclaim. Meanwhile, the personal combat effectiveness of wizards was truly concerning; wizards of that era were more proficient in hexing or spirit communication—spells that were cumbersome to cast and had weak effects—which paled in comparison to the fireballs and ice arrows of contemporary mages.

In 666 CE, warriors and mages were unified under a single classification system and ranked accordingly. Mages soon discovered they could easily defeat wizards who were three or four ranks higher than them. Since ranking was primarily based on the strength of mental energy, the fact that spellcasting soundly trounced witchcraft with equivalent mental power was indisputable. The weak were naturally mocked, and wizards of that period suffered great humiliation and unfair treatment.

Faced with this predicament, some wizards reluctantly retrained as mages, which is why the distinction between wizards and mages remains ambiguous to this day. Others, however, remained convinced that witchcraft was supreme and strove for excellence, eventually leading to the birth of necromancers and the outbreak of two continent-wide holy wars.

Simultaneously, another group abandoned the pursuit of power in favor of wealth. They attempted to turn stone into gold through witchcraft or alchemy, marking the origins of the earliest alchemists. Transfiguration emerged from this, and sheep-transmutation is merely one type—albeit the most famous—of this art.

Transfiguration belongs to an entirely different system from general elemental spellcasting. Only a few low-level spells have been passed down, and the Ryan Empire holds almost all the secrets to this branch of witchcraft. The Lobole Kingdom is virtually a blank slate in the field of transfiguration; those who can perform it there can, at most, turn a chicken into a duck or vice versa. They cannot even turn a dog into a cat, let alone a human.

Generally, the duration of a transfiguration depends on the caster's strength and whether the target cooperates. In actual combat, even if a spell against an opponent of equal rank succeeds, the duration is at most five seconds. However, if the target is willing to cooperate, the time can be extended to a certain degree.

Yet, these bandits, after being turned into sheep, actually attempted to walk back as if they were being herded. There were no powerful mages following them; otherwise, Kevin and his two companions would have been finished off long ago. It can be inferred that they were already in sheep form when they left the bandit lair and would only revert to human form upon reaching their new stronghold. This would take at least half a day, or perhaps two to three days. Regardless of cooperation, the caster of such a sheep-transmutation spell must be at least a high-level mage.

Kevin crouched to examine the corpses, questions mounting in his mind, his unease deepening with every layer. Though this battle appeared to be a victory, it had unveiled a dark, bottomless, and chilling conspiracy.

"Are these people lunatics?" Gray walked over, frowning as he looked at the stark-white corpses on the ground.

Stat removed his mask to catch his breath. "Are these really bandits?" Generally, weren't domestic bandits supposed to shout a few threats, unleash some battle aura, posture for a bit, exchange a few words with the mercenaries, and then walk away with a share of the money?

"Communication Parrot! Report the situation here," Kevin said without looking up, flipping through the corpses one by one. "They all have calluses on their hands, appearing to be from wielding axes; they are veterans. However, most of them have pale skin, as if they haven't seen the sun in a long time. They are well-fleshed and look well-fed; it seems they have undergone training. What do you think?"

Stat and Gray crouched and stared blankly for a moment, then could only shake their heads. A group of naked men with no clothes or identification—it was impossible to discern any details.

"Communication Parrot! Inform the staff officer that we are likely not facing ordinary bandits," Kevin said, his expression grave. "It is highly probable that this is an organization supported by external forces, likely on the scale of a military regiment."

The Communication Parrot was silent for a moment before speaking. "No way? You can tell it's a regiment from this?"

Kevin frowned. "Sheep-transmutation requires not only a high-level mage but also expensive spell media. If this is truly backed by external forces, they could easily afford to turn a dozen bandits into sheep; the hidden strength behind them must be immense. If it's not supported by external forces, are you suggesting the bandits researched and invented sheep-transmutation themselves?"

The parrot was silent for a moment, then replied, "Perhaps they were under some kind of illusion spell."

"Get over here!" Kevin's face darkened, pointing at the sheep hoofprints on the grass. "Look at this. Obviously, some died and some ran away. These hoofprints are still here—is this also an illusion?"

The parrot was silent again before answering, "Perhaps they were holding fake sheep hooves and deliberately left the prints on the ground."

Kevin was truly angry now, glaring fiercely at the parrot. The event had already transpired, so why persist in this state of denial? This wasn't a military exercise where failure just meant no medals and eating roast meat. This was real combat; such dithering would cost lives!

"Don't glare at me!" the parrot said nervously. "I'm just the messenger."

"Don't you have eyes as a messenger? Did we fall for an illusion?" Kevin couldn't help but curse. "They were all streaking! If they were using illusions, why would they need to streak? Wouldn't it be stronger to have clothes and axes? You say they used fake hooves—where are the fake hooves? They're completely naked, empty-handed—where are the fake hooves?"

"I know the appearance of sheep-transmutation here is unscientific, but the facts are right before our eyes. I have traveled extensively and visited the Ryan Empire; I have seen sheep-transmutation before. During the Second Holy War, there were verified cases of turning people into sheep to infiltrate flocks and assassinate enemy troops. Now that they are turning into sheep again, it's just an old trick—not some brilliant maneuver. What is there to doubt?" Kevin fumed.

Stat quickly tugged his sleeve. "Don't get excited, don't get excited."

The Communication Parrot sighed. "Well, do you want me to report this word-for-word?"

"Report it!" Kevin was genuinely fired up; he had long held this staff officer in contempt.

"Wait," Stat intervened hastily. "Let's refine the wording, refine it. Just say we didn't find any fake hooves and we are certain we weren't under an illusion."

The parrot dared not report the verbal abuse directly; if the mage on the other end felt slighted, the messenger would be the one to suffer. Yet, no matter how the language was polished, the meaning remained the same.

The staff officer frowned immediately. "Who does this man think he is? Just because he performed well in a military exercise, he's become too arrogant to know his place?"

Nearby, Lieutenant Colonel House, commander of the Third Battalion, remarked, "Perhaps there really is something suspicious going on."

"Hmph," the staff officer replied dismissively. "Even if there is some sheep-transmutation, they probably just got their hands on a sheep-staff. I am a high-level warrior myself; even if there were a high-level mage, it's not like I couldn't handle it. Making such a fuss over a simple sheep-transmutation."

Lieutenant Colonel House sighed. "How about I go over and check personally?"

The staff officer looked at him with some dissatisfaction, but since a lieutenant colonel's words carried more weight than Kevin's, he simply waved his hand, signaling him to go if he wished.

Lieutenant Colonel House immediately mounted his horse and rode toward Kevin's position alone. Possessing exceptional personal strength, he didn't fear the dangers along the way. After passing through the woods and crossing two hills, his clothes were snagged by branches, and he looked weary from the journey.

Kevin and his team immediately stepped off their vehicle and saluted. "Colonel, why did you come yourself?"

House waved his hand. "Never mind that. Where is the incident site? I'll go take a look."

"About thirty meters behind us," Kevin pointed back. "After we reported, we continued forward. We couldn't move the bodies, so we had to leave them there."

"Take me to see." House didn't waste words and turned his horse around.

Kevin turned to Stat. "You guys continue forward; I'll take Lieutenant Colonel House." With that, he hopped off the vehicle and jogged to catch up.

Not much time had passed; the bodies were cooling, and the blood had just coagulated. The expressions of the dead were still ferocious. Kevin had never seen such suicidal fighting styles from bandits; looking back now, he couldn't help but feel a chill.

He briefly explained the situation and his own assessment, reiterating that the enemy was not to be underestimated and hoping the staff officer would take it seriously.

House merely crouched to inspect the scene, remaining silent. After a long while, he stood up. "There are some things you may not know. Sigh!"

"I know that some seemingly absurd decisions must have their underlying reasons," Kevin replied. "But this is real combat. Perhaps as a junior officer, I am overstepping by questioning military strategy, but the matter is of great importance. Please forgive my rudeness."

"Sigh!" House sighed. "You are a talent, it's a pity..."

Leaving the sentence half-finished, House shook his head, mounted his horse, and rode off, leaving Kevin to ponder the meaning. Watching him leave, Kevin began to weigh his options.

Catching up to his catapult team, Kevin gritted his teeth and made a decision. "Hey, Communication Parrot. You're slurring your words; I can't understand you."

"Huh?" The parrot was surprised. "Then how were you talking to me just now?"

"Eh?" Kevin looked bewildered. "Just now? Talking? Eh? What?"

The parrot: "..."

"Oh? What did you ask just now? I didn't hear you clearly," Kevin said, feigning innocence.

"I asked! How were you talking to me just now?" the parrot enunciated clearly.

"Oh, that conversation? Those were all made up, and now I can't keep making them up," Kevin replied.

The parrot: "..."

"Did I get it wrong again?" Kevin shook his head. "See, I told you your speech was unclear. How about this: I'll send my 'Big Sister' parrot to the staff officer. That way, I can communicate directly with her via mental connection, which is more convenient and won't result in slurred speech."

The Communication Parrot was silent for a moment. "Let me report to the commander first."

"Huh? You want to gnaw on a chicken leg?" Kevin asked, surprised. "There's only jerky here."

Stat and Gray watched in astonishment, unsure of Kevin's intentions and hesitant to intervene.

The parrot sighed in resignation. "Fine, whatever. Big Sister, follow me to the staff officer!"

"Understood!" Big Sister Parrot remained very formal, and the two parrots maintained their formation as they flew off.

Seeing the two parrots fly away, Stat sidled up. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I must know all of the staff officer's deployments," Kevin replied. "As long as my parrot is there, I can know the staff officer's entire plan for the other units. Honestly, I don't trust this officer's competence; I need to make my own judgments."

Stat and Gray turned pale. "This... are you trying to..."

"You have to understand, we are the weakest link. Among all the groups, we have the least combat power. If the bandits get angry and decide to strike back, we will be the first ones they cut down!" Kevin said, visibly worried.

"Sigh!" Stat shook his head. "I tried to hold you back earlier, told you not to chase after that shepherd and just let him pass—nothing would have happened."

Kevin just glanced at him sideways. "I can't be bothered to argue with you."

Big Sister Parrot reached the staff officer in a few moments, and Kevin immediately established a mental link. He instructed her to report everything the staff officer said, even if he just passed gas. A moment later, Kevin pulled out a map and began marking the positions of the other groups.

"How is it?" Stat asked, still trusting in Kevin's abilities.

"The coordination is severely disjointed," Kevin frowned. "These cavalry units are moving too fast, and the distance between us and the nearest group is too great. Only Lieutenant Colonel House was able to make it here thanks to his exceptional strength; the others, I'm afraid..."

"So, if something happens to us, no one can save us?" Stat asked nervously.

"Correct," Kevin said bluntly. "If those naked men had weapons and clothing earlier, things might have ended differently. Gray, check that rapid-fire crossbow carefully; make sure it doesn't jam."

"This..." Gray broke into a sweat. "I've only been using this for a few days. I don't really understand it."

Stat scanned the surroundings. "There were parrots patrolling earlier, but now that they've all been sent away, won't we be in too much danger?"

Gray remembered something. "By the way, sheep-transmutation is just one type of transfiguration. They might be able to turn into other things, like frogs. It's hard to be careful against that."

Kevin folded the map and looked back at the road they had traveled. The heavy wheels had left deep ruts in the ground; at such a slow speed, there was basically no chance of escaping. Should he abandon the catapult and flee? The thought flashed through his mind, only to be discarded.

Suddenly, Big Sister Parrot sent a message through their mental bond: "Group 18 has suddenly lost contact."

Immediately after, a series of bad news followed: "Group 12 lost contact, Group 15 lost contact, Group 5 lost contact."

Kevin's brows furrowed. Losing contact didn't necessarily mean the entire group was wiped out; perhaps only the Communication Parrots or the mages were killed. But four consecutive groups failing meant the enemy was premeditated and understood precision strikes; there must be a mastermind behind this.

Yet, why was he, the softest target, not being attacked? There were survivors from the earlier battle who definitely knew his location. Could it be that they were planning a multi-point simultaneous attack, and the shepherd earlier wasn't trying to slip past, but was actually scouting for an attack?

It was suspicious indeed. Having been exposed by Kevin, those sheep-transmutation bandits should have fled. Instead, they boldly chose to attack. Perhaps they intended to attack here all along, and Kevin's intervention forced them to launch early.

Kevin scanned the surroundings vigilantly, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Did the bandits lack the manpower to spare forces to deal with the easy target, or did they know the catapult was slow and were in no hurry to finish them off? (To be continued.)