Chapter 113: Deadly Tarot: Magical Duel

Tarot curse?

Remove the curse through divination?

Louis couldn’t imagine what a Tarot card curse would look like, or how divination could lift it.

But that didn’t stop him from observing; he was curious about the astrologer’s exorcism method—this was his first time seeing someone else perform one.

Let’s see what level this is.

Under Louis’s observation, the astrologer named Alma took out several objects and drew a double-lined circle on the floor, with twelve symbols arranged between the two circles.

Then she placed the box bearing an inverted pentagram in the center, lit candles around the room, and a solemn, silent atmosphere arose.

Louis, watching from the doorway, stroked his chin, feeling this resembled some kind of ritual—or rite?

Yet he sensed no trace of mystical energy—this diviner was merely a village shaman level, possessing no innate power.

Louis was slightly disappointed, but the next second, his eyes lit up.

Suddenly, the diviner Alma, who had been performing the ritual, froze—as if sensing something. The three young people also noticed a figure in a black robe slowly turning its head toward them from the fireplace.

A white face coated in powder, black eyes, and the black robe gave it a faint resemblance to a nun.

Alma looked at the young people. “Sorry. She’s noticed.”

She spoke.

Blood began flowing from her nose, and her hand resting on the box stiffened completely.

The nun-like black-robed spirit rose and extended its hand—whish!

In the terrified gazes of the four young people, the box moved on its own, the thirteen Tarot cards spinning rapidly, forcibly performing a reading for Alma.

The divination was astonishingly fast—in the blink of an eye, Alma’s summary card appeared.

It was the Six of Swords, but unlike the normal Six of Swords.

It depicted a tiny figure pierced through by six swords.

Simultaneously, in the darkness, six swords glimmered faintly—the meaning was clear.

So the Tarot curse means this?

Forced divination, then a special death method emerges?

What, a physical version of Death Comes Knocking?

Still, interesting—how does this deck work? Or rather, what exactly is this curse?

Knock knock knock.

Louis knocked on the door.

Sensing a threat, the black-robed spirit froze, its gaze locking directly onto him.

“Excuse me for the interruption.

Astrologer, I heard your Tarot curse is powerful. I’m curious—could I borrow the Tarot deck for a look?”

Louis was polite in tone, but his words were not—without waiting, he fully opened the door and stepped inside.

The four young people, dressed like college students, stared at Louis in panic, bewildered by the situation—who was this?

Why was he so bold? And why, after he entered, did the malevolent spirit stop moving?

The situation seemed to be growing more complicated.

Bang!

The black-robed spirit waved its hand—the immobilized Alma was flung backward and slammed into the wall.

Then the thirteen Tarot cards began to spin, and the spirit’s gaze fixed on Louis—as if inviting him.

Unexpectedly, this spirit was quite refined.

Louis smiled and walked forward steadily.

As he passed the four young people, he found them obstructive and kicked one aside by accident.

One of the young women snapped out of shock and immediately tried to drag her classmates to flee.

But—

Bang!

The door slammed shut instantly.

As if telling them: no one leaves until the outcome is decided.

The four young people could only hang their heads, trembling and huddling in the corner, while the battered astrologer slowly regained consciousness.

“Cough cough.”

Her gaze at Louis was filled with uncertainty.

“Master Alma, what do we do now?”

Alma shook her head. “Watch their outcome first. If that stranger fails, we must seize the deck—only that deck can destroy the astrologer’s spirit and end this.”

All five huddled in the corner, watching Louis and the black-robed spirit.

Louis felt excited—this was his first time engaging in magical combat.

Though his opponent was a dead astrologer turned curse, it was still magical combat!

The thirteen Tarot cards began to rotate.

Louis spat out thirteen peachwood nails, instantly pinning the Tarot cards in place, hovering above them, pressing down hard to drive them in.

The pale yellow yang energy from the peachwood nails clashed with the black mist emanating from the Tarot cards.

Sssss…

Like hot oil meeting ice.

The black-robed spirit waved its hand again.

Invisible force intensified—the thick black mist instantly swallowed the peachwood nails.

At the same time, one card began to flip, trying to become Louis’s summary card.

Louis reacted just as swiftly—on the instant the peachwood nails failed, three demonic crocodile teeth flew forward.

Bang!

The demonic teeth exploded—three cards were blasted out of the formation, forcing the black-robed spirit’s eyes to flash with fury.

At that moment, the summary card flipped.

The Hanged Man.

Reversed!

The black-robed spirit’s lips curled—and its spirit twisted violently.

Layers of bandages wrapped around its body, shrinking its form, sharpening its hands into claws, transforming its feet into climbing appendages, and gripping a rope in its grasp.

The next second—

The small, agile monster leapt upward, smashing through the wooden ceiling and vanishing onto the roof, leaving a black hole.

A thick rope plummeted down, hurtling straight toward Louis’s neck.

Yet Louis still had time to think: from this, the so-called Tarot curse was exactly as he’d suspected—not fate-driven accidental death, like Death Comes Knocking.

She was summoning!

Once the summary card appeared, she transformed into the corresponding monstrous Tarot card and launched her attack.

He just didn’t know what abilities she gained after becoming these monsters.

As he thought, Louis dodged the rope aimed at his head with lightning speed, then spat a jet of fire, igniting the rope as it curled back to chase and strangle him.

Louis slightly raised his fingers.

Whish!

Roaring flames became serpents of fire, spiraling up the rope, burning fiercely, using it as fuel to reach its core!

Bang!

The bandage-wrapped black-robed spirit fell from the hole in the ceiling, the rope gone—its gaze wary as it stared at Louis.

Sensing its weakness to fire, its bandages began peeling off, and in an instant, it reverted to its original black-robed form.

Louis stood still, watching calmly, making no move to attack during those brief two seconds.

The black-robed spirit waved again—another of the remaining nine Tarot cards flew out and flipped.

The Magician.

Reversed!

The spirit transformed again—a grinning magician in a tall hat appeared, and illusions flooded the room.

One after another, lifelike spectators with different faces emerged, cheering, gesturing wildly, thrilled as if anticipating a wonderful performance.

The lighting shifted abruptly, becoming a spotlight focused on Louis.

Yet Louis remained unmoved, coldly observing—even as the voices grew louder, he didn’t budge.

Because the cow’s tear effect still held—he could clearly see nothing was real, only the black-robed spirit smiling by the fireplace.

Everything… was fake!

“Sigh. Is that all?”

“Just a Hanged Man playing with ropes; a Magician using illusions to fool ordinary people.”

“Disappointing.”

That’s it—only slightly better than a powerless village shaman. Hmm, perhaps the level of a common sorcerer with some reputation in town. Strictly speaking, he was on the same level as her.

But he had many more techniques—he held a half-level advantage. In essence, she was a small-town sorcerer under twenty thousand households; he was a major-town sorcerer above twenty thousand.

Enraged by Louis’s taunts, the black-robed spirit switched again—this time, the Devil card!

Whish!

Black mist swirled.

When the black-robed soul stepped out, it had transformed into a demon.

Goat horns, bat wings, black face with fangs, thick palms and sharp claws, wreathed in black energy, tall and burly.

The iconic goat-headed demon form.

At this moment, the four in the corner trembled in terror.

What had just occurred seemed complex, but in truth, only a fleeting moment had passed: the strange nail, the black mist, the hanging man, the fire spraying, the magician, the inexplicable end.

Now, the Devil card had become an actual demon!

“The magician just now must have been using illusions, which is why it ended so strangely to us—but this is the Devil card, and it’s likely…” Alma’s tone grew bleak.

According to her earlier research, this astrologer had originally served a count of Hungary, helping him predict many events and earning great merit—until one day, the count’s wife became pregnant, and the count asked her to cast a reading.

But the result was the Death card.

The count flew into a rage and forced her to keep casting until a different card appeared.

Yet even the next day, the reading remained unchanged.

Most tragically, on the day the count’s wife gave birth, she truly died in childbirth—both mother and child perished!

The count, furious, believed the astrologer had murdered his wife, so he sent men to capture the astrologer’s daughter and hang her alive.

The surviving astrologer, consumed by hatred, chose a dark ritual, sacrificing herself within a pentagram array, binding her soul to the Tarot cards.

Soon after, the entire count’s family began dying in strange, mysterious ways.

And the astrologer’s soul, fused with the curse, passed down with that special set of Tarot cards.

(End of Chapter)