Chapter 606: Act 350 – Beneath the Abyss IX
In the midst of a fierce battle between the demons and the northern coalition led by Erluin and the Temple of Fire, Jotungrund’s army quickly occupied the entire harbor at Ampere Seale. The port guard had already been overwhelmed by Brendel, leaving these creatures from the underground to seize the opportunity. Under the guidance of the Everything Returns Society, they easily opened the city gates and dispersed the remaining port guards. By nightfall, only a sparse resistance remained in the harbor.
Amidst the torrential rain, a graceful figure was slowly ascending the spiral staircase of the city wall.
Medusalaisimeka, clad in a pristine white linen robe, revealed her bronze-scaled skin beneath, her legs far longer than those of human women. However, she preferred to wrap her copper-patterned serpentine tail around her shoulders, resembling a shawl.
Reaching the rooftop of the city wall, she parted the chattering harpies and spotted the barely conscious Viscount Begning. She took hold of his wrist and muttered a byte; a dark pattern subtly emerged around the third segment of the viscount’s left index finger. Carefully, she brought it close to her beautiful prismatic eyes for a closer look before lifting her gaze to ask, “Where did you find him?”
The harpies replied in their distinctly underground language, “Nearby, milady.”
“Why hasn’t the messenger regained consciousness?”
“The messenger was knocked out, milady.”
“Humans are truly fragile,” Laisimeka scoffed, though she dared not express this sentiment openly; this man was an important figure of the Everything Returns Society, which was a follower of the Duskgazer Dragon and closely collaborated with demons—beyond the evaluation of those like her, the lower class. She lowered her head, flicking her forked tongue to create a black mark on Viscount Begning’s forehead, then gently stroked him to create a shelter from the rain.
“Let’s wait for Lord Bruka to arrive, then. Take good care of him. Our enemies this time are the terrifying Temple of Fire; the lords still need the Everything Returns Society to uncover that device. As long as we get a foothold, ‘we’ can possess even more land,” Laisimeka said, her longing evident as her beautiful serpent-like hair seemed to rise, hissing as it flicked.
She gazed towards the distant Anlek Mountains, their undulating shadows cloaked beneath dark clouds, reflecting the colors of lightning in her beautiful eyes, like sparks ignited.
Not far from her, sheltered from the wind, two ladies were engaged in a serious discussion. “White Mist, it’s clear that leaving Viscount Begning there was the right move; we’ve caught a big fish. They surely have some conspiracy behind it.”
Conspiracy was almost certain; otherwise, the Everything Returns Society wouldn’t be here. “So what? Do you plan to follow her?” White Mist shot her a sidelong glance.
“Of course!” Romaine nodded matter-of-factly.
“At the rate you stumble around, we’ll be discovered in less than a minute, and then you’d be caught and killed, which means I would meet my end as well,” White Mist coolly pointed out.
Romaine couldn’t help but show her dissatisfaction, her small eyebrows quickly furrowing. “Is it really that bad?”
“Worse than that.”
“Then I’ll just have to abandon this plan. White Mist, what do we do next?” The Business Lady dismissively negated a plan she had thought long and hard about, as if it hadn’t even come from her in the first place.
“Think for yourself,” White Mist replied lazily.
“I know, the obvious enemy, Brendel, poses no real threat, but conspiracies are unpredictable; knight novels always say so. Besides, Brendel appears rather bumbling and easily fooled; we should dig up that thing they’re preparing before they do.” Romaine quickly reached a new conclusion.
“What’s your plan?” White Mist thought it useless to use knight novels as a model for actions, yet since the logic wasn’t entirely off, she chose not to pursue the matter further. In truth, if it were possible, she’d rather not speak at all.
“We’ll go find those lurking fellows,” Romaine confidently responded.
“Lurking fellows?”
“I just saw Duke Anlek; didn’t that Viscount mention they were also members of that society?”
“Next time, please speak up sooner…” White Mist finally rolled her eyes languidly, this being the closest thing to an expression she had shown all day.
…
“It’s you, Babasha?” Brendel had already recognized the wrinkled old woman as the witch Babasha, whom he had once extorted in Ridenburg.
“Witch? Brendel, who is she?” Princess Grifian was the first to react, given that witches had a poor reputation in humanity’s world due to their past allegiance to the Dark Dragon, making them lead mostly reclusive lives. Cloaked in associations of evil, mystery, and malicious intent, many bedtime stories in Vaunte portrayed them as archetypal villains.
Having grown up in such a cultural atmosphere, Princess Grifian was no exception; the mere furrow of her brow already indicated her excellent upbringing, partly due to the fact that the witch had once helped them. Not only her, but Earl Ouding also raised an eyebrow. As a mature noble, he clearly had more composure and did not let his surprise show on his face.
“It’s me, my lord,” the old woman, dressed in a black robe that concealed her wrinkled face beneath a wizard’s hat, respectfully bowed to Brendel. “You need not worry; the lord has once assisted this old woman, and I made a vow before the Dark Dragon to repay. Today, I come to show my gratitude; my lord need not take it to heart.” Babasha cast a glance over the crowd with her small eyes as she spoke.
It was clearly a lie; when had he ever helped her? Extorting her would be a more fitting description. However, Brendel could somewhat guess why she would help him, and soon a voice in his heart confirmed this suspicion.
“My king, do not doubt. We have always been your loyal followers. At this moment, when history is about to change, the witches of the Winter Kingdom must first fulfill their promises.”
Indeed, back in Ridenburg, Babasha had prophesied that he would bring about the Dark Dragon’s return, which he found laughable. Yet circumstances were unpredictable, and he truly had become the inheritor of Odin’s legacy, though he only possessed a fraction of that legacy; in fact, one couldn’t rightly consider him a true Dark Dragon. It was unclear how this old hag had come to find him.
“Hmph!” At that moment came a cold scoff. “Brendel, where did you find these filthy allies? Do you really intend to become the Dark Dragon?” This was the voice of Queen Wind.
Brendel was startled; he hadn’t expected Queen Wind to speak up at this moment. She and Odin were arch enemies and, in other words, one of the dark witches’ greatest foes. He quickly looked up, only to find no strange expression on Babasha’s face, allowing him to relax; it seemed her voice was merely a magical effect and could not pry into his thoughts.
“This is clearly her doing; what does it have to do with me?” Brendel couldn’t help but respond with a sense of injustice.
“Hmph, take care of yourself and don’t let your pride get the best of you,” Queen Wind coldly tossed out a warning and fell silent again. Brendel felt a stir in his heart. “Lady Wind, I thought you wouldn’t want to see me at all today.”
“You…”
The elf senior sister seethed inwardly, cursing the pig-headed Brendel ten times before resolutely deciding to ignore him until the very last moment.
Brendel was entirely oblivious that he had once again greatly offended the elder of the wind elves. If he could, he would likely have found himself on the sacrificial pyre of the Wind Temple at this point. “Babasha, how do you know all of this?” he asked.
The old witch smiled mysteriously. “My lord, you need not hide anything. As long as the contract inscribed in the Black Prophecy hasn’t disappeared, we witches can read all secrets from it. The Black Prophecy has long foretold today’s events; the Dark Dragon will surely return to the earth.”
“The Black Prophecy also states that Madara will rule the land, and the twelve witches will unite. That’s hardly a certainty,” Brendel mused privately. However, he didn’t want to get tangled up with these people; witches had a terrible reputation in the mortal realm, and associating with them would imply acknowledging his identity as a follower of the Dark Dragon. Followers of the Dark Dragon were treated like pariahs under the rule of the Four Holy Temples, akin to a street rat.
“Could you be mistaken?” he inquired.
“No,” Babasha seemed to realize, hastily responding, “Is my lord worried about identity issues? Don’t worry, we will assist you in secret, ensuring your identity remains undisclosed—at least until the Second Judgment Day.”
“What is the Second Judgment Day?” Brendel felt talking to these mystical witches would soon drive him half mad. However, if Babasha was truly as she said, then the witches could be quite a helpful asset for him.
Witches and prophets were the first mortals in this world to wield magical powers; ancient wizards developed magic by harnessing the power of words and languages. Their strength came from the twelve wheels of the moon reflecting dark magic in the sky, so too were there different twelve key witches on Earth. For instance, Romaine’s Aunt Jennie was a quintessential example, a timeless witch with the magical moon of the Lyra constellation as her birth constellation. Among the witches of Burnoson, the most powerful belonged to the Witch King’s Winter Witches.
Long-term erosion by dark magic had rendered witches peculiar. While most were evil, cruel, and bloodthirsty, some were kind and rational. Be that as it may, they were all staunch followers of order. Despite the diverse opinions of the world, one thing remained irrefutable: they were irreconcilable with heretics.
This was precisely why Brendel would never collude with the Everything Returns Society but could accept the Dark Dragon’s legacy for the same reason; he didn’t mind Babasha’s help—as long as it didn’t trouble him.
After a moment of contemplation, he asked, “Babasha, you say the Winter Kingdom will respond to the promise; the previous dark celestial dome wasn’t solely completed by you, was it?”
“My lord, I have a few sisters accompanying me,” Babasha replied.
Images of the same few bony faces surfaced in Brendel’s mind. Witches, being adept at dark magic, prefered to live in remote areas. A small kingdom like Erluin on the borders of civilization was their paradise, and he knew there were many like Babasha here.
In fact, Romaine’s aunt Jennie was a prime example. “How capable are they?”
“About the same as me, my lord.” Brendel raised his head, casting a sharp gaze at Babasha. “Babasha, you say the Winter Kingdom will respond to the Witch King’s promise to the Dark Dragon, but your country of witches, Burnoson, surely won’t comprise only a handful of you, right?”
“Certainly not; they are simply unable to come due to their restraints. My lord, please do not doubt our loyalty.” Babasha’s face was earnest, yet she seemed a bit hesitant.
Brendel understood completely. He had long known the twelve witches were scattered across the globe and likely did not all share the same views. He was a successor of the Dark Dragon, but there were certainly others, and Babasha seeking him was evidently a long-term investment.
This old witch was quite astute. However, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at her offer; a few silver-tier witches were hardly impressive in his eyes. “Babasha, you don’t expect to help me with that level of power, do you?”
“Of course not,” Babasha quickly responded. “But my lord, witchcraft emphasizes wisdom over strength. Difficulties that power cannot solve can often be effortlessly addressed with wit.”
In the latter two statements, Brendel and Babasha didn’t bother with secret magic; Earl Ouding promptly spoke up after hearing them, “Then, old witch, what kind of wisdom do you bring us?” His tone was not polite, considering witches were synonymous with schemes, cunning, and deception in popular folklore.
“My lord, we can guide you across this area, avoiding the watchful eyes of the harpies,” Babasha answered.
“Really?” Brendel’s eyes brightened slightly as he asked carefully, “You say you can guide us through this area without being detected by Jotungrund’s army?”
“Indeed.”
“Whether to the south or the north?” Brendel inquired further.
“Mr. Brendel, what do you intend to do?” Princess Grifian suddenly turned around, her silver eyes widened in shock as she looked at Brendel, as if learning to view him anew.
“Indeed…” Babasha’s wrinkles seemed to multiply as she pondered, but she was not lying.
“Babasha, how many people can you guarantee will pass through this blockade undetected?” Brendel disregarded the others; the line in his mind was becoming increasingly clear.
“No more than twenty people.”
“I see,” Brendel nodded. “Your Highness, the Anchor Key you gave me can be used to determine an anchor point for Erluin’s First Royal Fleet, correct? How much magical power is required to activate it?”
“Mr. Brendel…”
Princess Grifian gazed at him, speaking softly, “It’s too risky…”
…(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting it on Qidian (qidian.com) with your recommendations and monthly votes; your support is my greatest motivation.)
