CH1043 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1043: A New Challenge

“A curse?” Roland repeated the word and felt its weight.

“Please come with me.” Pasha turned and led them into an adjacent cave—a library, Roland realized. Grooves had been cut into every wall and packed with books and scrolls. “Celine, His Majesty is here.”

I’m coming. The voice arrived in everyone’s heads before the speaker did. A moment later, a main tentacle snaked from the depths of the cave, swept a cascade of books from a shelf, and immediately retracted into darkness.

Before it vanished, it dipped briefly toward Roland—a nod.

“Ahem. I apologize, Your Majesty. When she finds a new subject of study, the rest of the world ceases to exist.” Pasha retrieved the fallen books with practiced calm. “As we believe it: the demon laid a curse on Lightning, yet she suffered no serious injury. That is itself unusual.”

Roland’s mind caught on subject of study and composed a brief image of laboratory mice. “What does she intend to do?”

“Please be assured. Observation and recording are our principal methods in magic research. With her magic core, Celine can track the movement of Lightning’s power with precision.” Pasha opened one of the books—yellowed pages, old witch script—and indicated two sections. Small paper notes were folded inside at each point. Celine’s translations. “These passages.”

He read.

“In a siege battle during the Land of Dawn campaigns, eight wounded witches were rescued by reinforcements. None of them recovered. Their wounds would not close regardless of treatment. Over time they weakened from blood loss, then from infection. They suffered long before they died. Two chose to end it themselves.” Pasha’s voice was slow and careful. “The records of that battle are fragmentary—even the writer knew little beyond the bare facts. But the phrase ‘the demon’s magic curse’ appears there, for the first time.”

She turned to the second passage.

“The other mention comes from a battle nearer to our own age. In Lakes City, on the edge of the Fertile Plains, a Senior Demon fought the witches’ army. It could attach its magic power to black stone spears. Any witch struck by one began to wither—weakening, fading. The Union named this demon Dementor.” Pasha paused. “It killed three Extraordinaries. Inside each one, the Quest Society found the same strange foreign power.”

“From the demon,” Roland said.

“Yes. We believe these are the same type of ability. A fragment of the demon’s power remains inside the target and causes continuous damage. It cannot be cured by conventional treatment, and it resists elimination.”

“That is why you call it a curse,” Wendy said quietly. “It’s terrible.”

Nightingale had stood still throughout. Now her hands closed slowly into fists. “You said hard to eliminate. That still implies a way.”

Pasha turned to the next page. “If our reading of the records is correct—yes.”

Roland read the rest.

When Lakes City was on the verge of falling, a witch named Samantha had stepped forward to face Dementor alone. In that battle she achieved a high awakening—became a Transcendent. She cleaved the demon in two. And afterward, the curse on her disappeared. She survived. The city fell anyway a year later, the Red Mist too close to hold; but Samantha had bought the time needed for the population to withdraw. She went on to force a restructuring of the Union and built the Three Chiefs system. She was among the first Three Chiefs.

Roland understood.

If Lightning was truly afflicted with a magic curse, the only path to curing her was to kill the demon that had placed it. This was not straightforward. Every engagement at the snow mountain camp and the Northbound Slope had already demonstrated how difficult Senior Demons were to bring down. In open battle, the First Army held an advantage. But a Senior Demon that chose not to fight directly—that stayed mobile, surrounded by soldiers, avoiding a decisive confrontation—became almost impossible to hunt.

For the Taquila witches, the problem had been essentially insurmountable.

Senior Demons were military commanders. They moved with armies. Reaching one—truly reaching it, killing it—required sacrificing far more than any single cursed witch’s life was worth to the Union’s calculations.

He thought of the unknown witch and her letter to Natalia. She had written directly to one of the Three Chiefs. She had stood near the top of the Union. Even she had found no solution, only the final acceptance.

Nightingale’s fists stayed closed.

“It is difficult,” Roland said. “But I will not give up any chance to cure her.”

Pasha was silent for a moment. ”…If that is your decision.”

“Before we plan anything, I need to understand the full scope of this threat.” He kept his voice level. “The Senior Demon Lightning encountered can place a curse without physical contact. If it cursed an ordinary person—not a witch—what would happen?”

Celine’s voice came from deeper in the cave, sudden and precise. “The outcome would be worse. Magic power grants witches enhanced immunity and accelerated healing—this is why we do not fall to demonic plague, which your books describe as bacterial infection. An ordinary person has no such protection. The wound would not close. Infection would follow quickly.”

“Can God’s Stones of Retaliation prevent the curse?”

“They can. Dementor’s ability to kill three Extraordinaries depended on its superior combat strength—had it been unable to overpower them directly, the Stones would have protected them.” A pause. “However, based on Lightning’s description, we cannot rule out the possibility that the demon she encountered is a Magic Slayer. If it is, God’s Stones of Retaliation provide much less protection.”

The most powerful demons resembled humans most closely. Two Battles of Divine Will had confirmed the pattern.

Roland drew a slow breath.

He agreed with Celine. By Lightning’s account, this Senior Demon might be stronger than anything they had yet faced. Killing it would require preparation—more careful, more thorough than any operation they had mounted before.

The expedition to Taquila could not be rushed.

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