Chapter 971: Act 143 – The Witch’s Uprising VI
Anwei let out a sharp scream and immediately woke from her meditation. The meditation of witches is vastly different from that of wizards; while wizards bind chaotic magical power with threads of law to prepare spells for the day, this is a dangerous task that requires ample rest and a quiet environment. However, witches draw their power from the projection of magic in Vaunte—specifically, the Twelve Moons of Magic (some say thirteen, including the Dark Moon). The first generation of witches built a kingdom for witches, Burnoson, in this shadow world—a realm intricately woven with pure magic and the spiritual world. It does not exist in the physical realm, but every witch must immerse her soul within it. By day, they act in the real world, and by night, they enter this witch’s domain from their dreams, whispering and communicating in the spiritual realm.
Yet the shadow world is more absurd and dangerous than reality. In the myriad dreamscapes, one can easily lose their mind in the depths of darkness. Thus, witches carefully guard their domain, using meditation to calm themselves—a significant ritual that often cannot afford failure, for the consequences of failure are severe.
“Kulur!” the witch shouted in an intense fury, “You are cursed—!”
Several young witches rushed into the tent, panic evident in their eyes as they took in the disheveled Anwei. Anwei pointed at them, her voice sharp: “Quick, kill that cat!” Outside the tent, a crooked maple wood frame hung with a golden cage containing a black cat. At that moment, the black cat paced restlessly in the cage, arching its back, its fur standing on end, and its green eyes glaring at the corners of the tent, revealing sharp teeth as it emitted piercing cries.
In Vaunte, people superstitiously believe that cats are embodiments of witches. In some places, people burn cats alive, and the unlucky black cats are often doomed. The hatred and cruelty towards cats often emerge in tales. In a sense, the notion is not entirely wrong; witches use cats as their avatars. When they encounter unavoidable dangers in the shadow world, they substitute their own forms with cats.
At this moment, however, upon seeing the black cat, Anwei felt as if she had encountered a poisonous snake—
The young witch immediately drew a gleaming knife and plunged it into the black cat. The cat let out an exceedingly eerie scream and collapsed into a pool of blood. The young witch then thrust the knife again into an inch behind its right front paw, the bottom of the golden cage now soaked in sticky blood. The other two young witches immediately began to etch obscure characters on the ground, initiating the Dream Eater spell.
Although witches in the kingdom of Burnoson communicate mentally, they rarely allow others to enter their domains. The shadow world is vast and boundless; unless invited by the host, few dare to traverse the trap-laden world and enter others’ dreams. However, there is one exception—the indigenous spirits born of darkness. The witches of the Sword Moon govern the realms of communication and peace. Anwei was both shocked and enraged; Kulur must have contacted some spirit in the depths of darkness to find her position.
The Dream Eater spell can devour dreams. Witches meditate within dreams, and to invade their domains, one must also enter the dream realm; thus, the Dream Eater spell serves as the best defense. The young witch swiftly set up the ritual, clearly no stranger to such acts. However, before they could recite the first incantation, the dim space around the tent suddenly brightened slightly. A bright light point fell from the air, akin to a pebble dropped into water, rippling circles emanating from the point of contact, with blinding light pouring out from the center of the ripples. The light point soon expanded into a radiant gate.
Anwei and the young witches instinctively paused their actions; this was not a witch’s method but evidently supernatural power. Among the entities most familiar to the witches, only one type possessed such power.
That is, spirit.
The bound spirit, White Mist, casually opened the passage from the shadow world to reality—a movement so familiar to her that it felt as though it had been imprinted in her body long ago. She leaped through the light gate, tracing a graceful arc as she landed on the ground, instantly transforming back into a white fox upon entering the material realm. She raised her head, her ruby-like eyes fixed on the few people in front of her—Anwei and her surrounding young witches. Behind her were Babasha and the smiling JarSugar, the cheerful young girl hopping over the light gate with her honey jar, followed by Charles, who brought along three young individuals clad in wizard robes adorned with three red edges. They strolled leisurely through the light gate. Lastly, the dark witch Kulur of the Sword Moon appeared, looking somewhat weak and unsteady, her complexion no better than Anwei’s, who had been severely injured in the dream world.
Anwei’s eyes widened in shock, but she did not raise her voice to question Kulur about why she would do her harm, nor did she make any sound. This chubby, round-faced witch had her gaze locked on White Mist, as if she had encountered a monstrous being. It was not the first time she had seen White Mist; White Mist often hung around the neck of the young lord’s fiancée like a scarf, it was hard not to notice. Yet today, she emanated a powerful aura of spirit unlike any other day—an aura that only witches could perceive, and witches were most sensitive to it. Anwei distinctly felt familiar essences emanating from the spirit before her, feelings that made her nearly believe she was hallucinating.
She sensed the presence of her ancestors.
The first generation of witches infused their souls into the shadow world, creating the kingdom of Burnoson for witches, their souls wandering in the desolate shadows, becoming the most powerful spirits of the dark realm.
However, ever since the witches’ clan was thoroughly defeated and even fractured during the Saint’s War, Burnoson was severely impacted. These most powerful spirits never reappeared in the world again, nor had any witch summoned them since then. All witches believed they had dissipated, just like the most cherished inheritances of witches, vanishing amidst the fragmented spiritual world.
“Who are you… really?” Anwei pointed at White Mist, her voice trembling with fear.
White Mist scoffed and disdainfully turned her head away, showing no interest in answering such a lowly witch’s question. Although Anwei was the inherited witch of the Cup Moon, inheritances varied in quality. Compared to the time when the Witch Kingdom thrived, following the twelve lineages of witches in service to the Witch Queen, the chubby woman in front of her seemed more like a stumbling child.
Suddenly, she felt a twinge of annoyance in her heart—if even this marginal character could perceive her power, yet that lady seemed to view her as though she were nothing to be concerned about, and furthermore, that lady was the chosen inheritor of the Witch Queen. This made her writhe with hatred.
‘If it weren’t for… I’d swallow that little girl whole!’
White Mist’s mind churned with this dark and rebellious thought.
White Mist said nothing in response to Anwei, but that did not mean everyone else would remain silent. Charles and the three young men behind him stepped forward with friendly smiles. “Lady Anwei, the lord has never forced you into anything. Your choice to join the lord’s side was entirely yours, and of course, we welcome it. If you choose to leave, we will not stop you; that is your freedom. However, to resort to some underhanded tricks behind our backs is quite unworthy of respect, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Put away your false facade,” Anwei shot a hateful glance at Kulur and without any hint of false hope stated, “I have never joined you, nor is there any talk of betrayal.”
“I know,” Charles nodded. “Because you are the maid of the Witch King, right?”
“That’s good to know,” Anwei replied coldly. “Your lord is hardly a dark dragon; only a fool like Babasha would be deceived into believing such absurd rumors. My master long ago prophesied the coming of my king; there is only ever one king, and she has already arrived in this world. It is laughable that you intend to resist while refusing to bow.”
She turned to Kulur, fixing her gaze on her intently: “What I understand the least is you, Kulur. You clearly know that the young man is no dark dragon. Why do you persist in folly and even resort to forbidden arts? What exactly are you aiming for?!”
Kulur slowly raised her head, coldly regarding her colleague. Her face was pale as if she were dead, yet she spoke, albeit rarely: “Brendel is not a dark dragon.”
It was an assertion.
Anwei’s eyes widened in shock: “You… you know? Since you know… then why…” Her voice twisted with disbelief: “You… you all chose to betray?!”
“It’s impossible!”
“Witches cannot betray their masters! You are simply… simply… insane!”
She let out several screams and suddenly sprang from the ground, reaching out towards Charles. A gust of cold wind mixed with terrible shrieks blew from her fingers towards Charles. Although Anwei appeared to be mad, she was quite clear in her mind that, among the few people present, the one posing the greatest threat to her was in fact this four human wizards.
Among all the magical professions in Vaunte, two professions excel in combat. The first is the Elementalist, as elemental magic is immensely powerful, with nine out of ten spells being offensive. The second is the Law Wizard. While Law Wizards may sound like the obvious choice for scholars—most academics indeed learn some spells—Law Wizards are also known as civilian wizards, boasting the largest population of all spellcasters in Vaunte. In adventuring parties and mercenary groups, you can randomly pick a couple of spellcasters, and the odds are that they are Law Wizards. The sheer volume illustrates the immense pool of Law Wizards, whose vast practical experience gets passed down through generations, ultimately crafting a distinct cultural atmosphere among them—namely, practical experience is the only yardstick for evaluating a wizard’s competence.
Within such a cultural climate, it becomes quite difficult for Law Wizards not to excel in combat. Moreover, Brendel’s wizard group aims for practical battles. Charles himself had experienced the last Holy War and selected wizards who mostly hailed from adventurers or mercenaries. Few were of the scholarly variety, leading to rich practical experience, as one can imagine.
Additionally, with the Law Magic being both offensive and defensive, Law Wizards are notoriously difficult to deal with in a real fight. Witches’ runic magic may be strange and powerful, but they excel more in subterfuge; direct confrontations are not their strong suit. Thus, Anwei understood thoroughly that to win, she must exploit her opponent’s weakness and make the first move.
Her first act was the five-ring Frost Touch. In the twelve-ring system of runic magic, five-ring magic is not considered powerful; a lower-tier witch at the silver peak can cast it, but this witchcraft is one of the rare direct attack spells of witches, and its effectiveness is exceedingly practical. It is a spell that directly targets the soul, capable of freezing it for a short time, even dragging those of inferior strength to instant death. Of course, Anwei did not expect to slay all four of the Law Wizards, each of whom boasted at least five rings, especially since she knew Charles was a sorcerer master nearing the elemental realm. She only hoped her blow would briefly hinder them long enough for her to cast the next spell calmly.
Witches are the experts in studying souls, and their achievements in this area are unmatched even by necromancers who study spirit communication. Conversely, Law Wizards are not particularly adept in that area. Therefore, Anwei considered it quite possible that she would succeed. In fact, she moved swiftly; in a flash, complex magical runes appeared between her snowy white hands, and in an instant, she completed the spell, her powerful ability laid bare.
The piercing icy wind surged toward Charles. Charles smiled faintly, reciting an incantation: “In the name of the law, let the lines disperse, and let no medium remain in space—”
Although Law Wizards do not excel at dealing with souls, they excel at magic itself. Any magic transmitted through space requires a medium; even space itself is a kind of law. This is also why Law Wizards are notoriously difficult to confront. Their deep research into incantations means that disassembling spells is like second nature to them.
Magic, in the face of Law Wizards, was simply profound knowledge—it was not mysterious.
Law Wizards are the most understanding adversaries of spellcasters.
The frost wind potent enough to freeze everything seemed to encounter an invisible wall before Charles, slowing down progressively until it finally halted, dissolving into a flurry of indistinguishable white ice dust.
Anwei was astonished. She had long known that Law Wizards were difficult to deal with, but she hadn’t imagined Charles would be this formidable. She took a trembling step back, hesitating at that moment, as she realized she found herself devoid of any means to counter this young man—let alone the three other equally challenging Law Wizards behind him.
It seemed Charles noticed the witch’s retreat; he smiled subtly and said:
“Submit willingly, Lady Anwei. Since I am here, escape is impossible for you, especially since I tend to be cautious and timid, and I brought three assistants along.” He shrugged. “The lord is not a bloodthirsty person. I’ve said it before, you are free to come and go, but the current situation isn’t quite suitable. As long as you’re willing to be our guest for a while, we won’t make things difficult for you.”
“Are you planning to house arrest me?” Anwei narrowed her eyes dangerously.
