I Became a 6★ Gacha Character-Chapter 523: A Predictable Story 3

Han Se-ah floundered in the darkness, her camera spinning aimlessly. Meanwhile, the NPC companions competently handled their roles, especially Grace who mischievously stole Roland's lips and then instructed him to wake Katie with a kiss.

It was the perfect setup for viewers to mock Han Se-ah.

"No, seriously. I really have to just sit here? There should be at least one way out. I'm a mage—how can there be no way to break this sorcery?!"

-LOL what can you even do? LOL what can you even do? LOL what can you even do? LOL what can you even do? LOL what can you even do?

-While Grace is making her official wife moves, all you can do is voyeur with your camera? Just watching while Roland plants kisses?

-Staff stand can't do anything, right? Just sucking your thumb until the hunter comes to rescue you?

-Watching and sucking something long in the dark... this is an R-rated stream

-LOL what's the point of rolling dice first if you've got no way out anyway? LOLOL

Grace looked around uncertainly, while Han Se-ah struggled in the darkness, filming us. Their behavior completely contrasted with our party members who had gathered together with instinctive tension, aware we were still trapped in the witch's sorcery.

Fortunately for Han Se-ah, she wouldn't remain imprisoned in darkness forever.

"Over here― can you hear me―"

"Yes, yes! I can hear you, Miss Elize!"

Just as Grace had found our companions, Elize the sorceress had apparently found Han Se-ah. While her camera continued filming us, she stopped mid-conversation with viewers to respond to Elize. Had our party now split into physical fighters and intellectuals?

Was this the witch's plan all along?

Seeing how cleanly our party had been divided, I glanced at the witch's illusion still getting pummeled by Grace. The witch kept absorbing all the arrows Grace fired in every direction, as if the space itself had been twisted.

"Why... are you...?"

"A way out... perhaps—"

Grace continued firing arrows tirelessly, almost relentlessly, without getting bored or tired. Thanks to her, the mad witch's illusion had already dispersed like fog and reformed into human shape several times.

The way she stuck stubbornly by my side while unable to speak comfortably was becoming increasingly suspicious.

Did she consider me an interesting test subject after seeing me swing the holy sword? Or had she sensed from my mana wavelength that I was the strongest in our party? Her non-stop chattering was becoming irritating beyond mere annoyance.

"Hey, what's your angle?"

"Come on. She's not going to answer just because you asked—"

"I've never... used... sorcery... on a holy sword before~"

"Oh? What the hell."

"A holy sword that tears through sorcery, and love that breaks sorcery"

"I can't just kill such interesting test subjects—"

"Child, aren't you... interrupting... my conversation... with your husband?"

So she was treating us like lab rats after all. Grace started firing arrows again, apparently annoyed by those words. By this point, the witch seemed irritated too, as her pincushion illusion in midair began to distort grotesquely.

Already looking creepy with arrows stuck all over, she looked like an undead arrow flower as she lost her human shape.

The witch's illusion rippled in midair, changing form as if molded from clouds. She absorbed even the magical arrows stuck in her body and gradually expanded her size. It was an unpleasant sight, like a cloud, clay, or sewer sludge swelling up.

"Child, perhaps... you haven't... heard?"

"Bad children who don't listen to adults"

"Get taken away by the wicked witch—?!"

The slender witch's silhouette transformed into a massive beast. With a maw full of teeth like a worm's and a revolting snout that opened wide, it charged toward us like a snake crawling through space, releasing a roar that made our heads ring.

Her previous appearance as a harmless blabbermouth was completely gone, replaced by an overwhelmingly ferocious aura. Just from the unpleasant sorcerous wavelength, my instincts told me that taking a direct hit unprepared would end badly.

'Can I just smash that thing?'

But facing such monstrosities was a tank's duty. Without hesitation, I stepped forward to put our companions behind me. Having used the holy sword to break my own nightmare earlier, I raised my shield and rested my warhammer on my shoulder in a charging stance.

Whether illusion or hologram, it should scatter if I bash it with my shield and smash it with my hammer, right? And since it was using evil sorcery, infusing holy power into my attacks might not kill the witch, but it could disrupt the sorcery.

True to her preference for underhanded tactics, the witch's maw ignored the tank and aimed for the back line instead. I stepped forward to ram her with my shoulder, but before my shield could strike her flank, something strange happened.

"...Ah, found it."

"Wh-what is thiiiiis?!"

With a thud, the witch's illusion froze in midair as if nailed in place.

Grace, who had been continuously firing arrows into empty space without dodging, trusting me completely, had just fired an arrow loaded with mana somewhere.

More specifically, toward the witch's real body through empty space.

※

Realizations could come from the most unexpected sources.

Those who never break through barriers might dismiss this as privileged nonsense, but in my 11 years as an adventurer, I'd found that with enough talent, enlightenment could come from the most trivial things.

Some found enlightenment watching the morning sun rise after battle, others from the sparks of a campfire boiling soup, and there was even one bastard who reached enlightenment during post-coital clarity, watching the red lights going out in the brothel district.

So it was only natural that Grace would find some insight within the witch's sorcery.

"Grace, can you see something?"

"Yes, I think I can... find the witch—"

Perhaps she'd gained some insight through the arrows she fired continuously while passing through Katie's, Jacob's, Irene's, and Mills' illusions from the ruined village.

Her soft brown eyes sparkled like amber under a spotlight. With those unmistakably special eyes glaring into space, Grace very slowly drew her bowstring. Not like a hunter pursuing prey, but like a priest offering a solemn prayer—slowly.

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As if to demonstrate that wind arrows weren't just for rapid firing, the magic swirling around her bowstring gathered like a storm.

"Roland, I'll open the way."

"...Alright, got it."

The arrow, charged with enough power to distort the sorcerous illusion, could hardly be called just an arrow anymore. The wind gathered around it rivaled a high-rank magic spell, making the bowstring creak ominously—krrreeeek—as if about to snap.

Then, as if she couldn't hold on any longer, Grace released her fingers very lightly.

They say the eye of a storm is calm—the arrow disappeared into empty space without making a sound. But even if it flew somewhere invisible to us, a high-rank spell couldn't travel without leaving some aftermath.

Krik, krakakrik, kreeeeeee—

"...Everyone, get down!"

Terrible noises came from beyond the distorted, shattered illusion. A wind blew from the chaotic space as if guiding our way, but it was excessively violent to be called guidance.

Jacob took care of Grace, who sagged with her bow dangling, while Mills and Katie huddled around Irene. After seeing them secure, I charged forward following the violent wind, immediately feeling strong resistance.

It felt like running outside during a typhoon. Pushing through the howling wind, I saw a devastated prairie instead of the distorted illusion.

Weeds that dared not raise their heads, small shrubs uprooted and blown away, prairie soil exposed where lush green had been torn away, and beyond it all, a shattered hut.

"How dare you, how daaaaare!!!"

"Just when I thought things might quiet down, you're still as noisy as ever."

Had she finally shot the witch's head through the illusion? Dark aura ominously rose from the ruins of the collapsed hut, gathering into the shape of a witch on a broomstick.

Though calling it a witch on a broomstick was generous—it was more like a grotesque tentacle mass perched on a broom rather than a beautiful woman's silhouette.

"Hey, aren't you going to fight?! ...That's really the fucking bitch."

The problem was that despite having her hut destroyed and taking a direct hit to the head that would enrage anyone, she was escaping on a broomstick again. She truly had an annoying pattern.

Phase 1: Trap

Phase 2: Escape

Fucking hell, whoever designed this really knew how to piss off users.

Enjoy the chappy!