"Good luck!"
Haightar looked at Manla, silently wished him well in his mind, then picked up a gleaming silver surgical scalpel with his right hand and carefully made a small incision next to the cursed mark on Manla's arm.
"Hiss!"
The black witchcraft curse runes suddenly came alive, constantly twisting and writhing, transforming into the shape of a small black serpent that flicked its tongue.
Wisps of dark energy and a network of blood-red veins immediately spread across Manla's entire body.
The burly man broke out in cold sweat, instinctively clenching his teeth, his face contorted in extreme agony.
"First ray of light in the world! Hear my call and lend me your power! Drive away the darkness…"
Haightar's lips moved rapidly as he chanted at a frantic pace.
Hummm!
Countless beams of white light suddenly emerged from around the operating table, flying up above Manla and coalescing in the air into the shape of a luminous symbol.
A strand of purity! Without the slightest trace of impurity, as if it were the most primordial ray of light in the world, it suddenly materialized within the symbol!
Milky-white radiance shone down upon Manla's body.
Tsss! Manla's entire body suddenly arched upward, his fists clenched tight.
At the same time, countless streams of black gas erupted from his pores.
The dark gas drifted into the air, only to be swiftly purified by the light.
Haightar's gaze remained fixed on the black lines crawling across Manla's body, sweat continuously streaming down from the corners of his eyes.
His vast Spiritual Power had been refined into impossibly fine threads, constantly scanning over Manla, recording the state of his body and guiding the cleansing wash of light.
This was a task that demanded extraordinary precision — the slightest error on his part, and the curse on Manla's body would erupt catastrophically.
Clearly, maintaining this state placed enormous pressure on Haightar as well.
After barely a dozen minutes, the old man already appeared to be reaching his limit, rough and heavy breaths pouring from his nostrils.
But it was precisely at moments like these that Haightar's hands grew steadier still, as though forged from steel — every movement executed without the slightest error.
Finally, under the relentless advance of the light, the dark, twisted curse runes were driven back step by step, retreating until they shrank back into the original wound.
The beams of light formed a ring of light around the perimeter, sealing the curse within a small area near the wound.
"Phew…" Haightar let out a long breath and wiped the sweat from his face.
"I've already pinned the curse to a single location. Now comes the most critical part — the extraction…"
Haightar carefully lifted the glass vessel containing the soft-bodied creature and held it before him, as though cradling the most precious treasure.
He then placed the vessel on the wound on Mola's arm where the incision had been made.
"Come on! Little sweetheart!" Haightar's face was bathed in an odd glow as he let out a mesmerizing sound.
"Hsss…"
The curse runes on Mola's arm suddenly twisted, reshaping themselves into the form of a small black snake.
The little snake flicked its tongue, seeming to sense something, and turned its gaze toward the soft-bodied creature.
"Squeak…" Upon seeing the little snake, even the soft-bodied creature — a being with barely any consciousness to speak of — began to contract its body.
But this only drew the snake's attention further. It writhed and began slithering in that direction.
As the black snake drew closer and closer, Haightar held his breath, as though even the faintest air current might scare the creature away.
The black snake first circled the wound, seemingly hesitant. Then, without the slightest mercy, it turned to leave!
Just as the old woman in the distance assumed it had failed, the black snake — already having turned away — suddenly launched its body forward like a bolt of black lightning, shooting out from the wound and pouncing onto the soft-bodied creature.
It swallowed the creature in a single gulp, then darted back just as quickly.
"Think you can still run?"
A triumphant smile spread across Haightar's face. His right hand, already gripping a pair of tweezers, shot out in a flash.
The tweezers traced a strange arc through midair, positioning themselves perfectly in front of the black snake.
With a swift pinch, they seized the snake right at its midpoint.
"Hsss…" The little snake shrieked, its body twisting and coiling endlessly.
Haightar's expression turned grave. He understood all too well the magnitude of disaster that would unfold if this thing were to slip free from his grasp!
His left hand swiftly picked up a sulfuric vial shimmering with runes, tossed the black snake inside, and sealed it with the stopper in an instant.
The runes flared, locking the vial shut. Only after seeing this did Haightar finally let out a long, deep breath of relief.
"Master Haightar! Did it work?"
The old woman stepped forward. Seeing that Mola had returned to calm, and that the curse runes on his arm had completely vanished, a note of excitement crept into her voice.
"Of course! I've lived up to my duty at last!" A restrained smile appeared on Haightar's face.
He had held no absolute certainty of success against this particular curse, but the attempts made over this period had proven to be a tremendous boon to his mastery of both Potionology and the healing arts.