Chapter 1113: A Third Wheel
Joe stammered something that wasn’t quite a word. His face moved through several expressions before settling on the one that sits just before understanding.
How? That was the question. How is this possible?
Farrina’s voice steadied first. “You should have been killed during the Months of Demons. And God’s Punishment Warriors are devoted warriors who sacrificed themselves to God. They would never — ”
“Speak?” the woman cut in. She moved to the railing of the bed and leaned against it. “That has nothing to do with faith. They don’t speak because they’ve been brainwashed. Otherwise we can’t use the bodies.”
Use their bodies.
“I don’t understand — ”
“Let me ask you something first.” The woman’s voice was even, neither kind nor unkind. “How did the church describe the God’s Punishment Army?”
Joe answered — he had always been the quicker one, quick to gather and arrange — his voice fervent in the way of someone reciting something important: “Warriors who’d received God’s power. The mortal enemy of witches. The church’s greatest hope. Only faithful and fearless believers could receive the honor.” He paused. “I thought for a long time that saving the world meant stopping the demonic beasts from the Great Rupture. After I read Tucker Torr’s last will, I understood it was the demons. The Battle of Divine Will.”
“So,” Farrina said, completing the thought, “the God’s Punishment Army is the army built to fight demons. Only the Prival Council knew the incarnation ceremony. And now Roland Wimbledon has destroyed everything.”
“Very touching,” the woman said. A smile played at the corner of her mouth, the kind that isn’t amused so much as resigned. “Unfortunately, none of it is true. The God’s Punishment Army was always a tool to suppress witches. The original purpose — saving the human race — wasn’t the church’s idea. It was a witch’s.”
Farrina opened her mouth. Closed it. The woman standing in front of her was Enova. The Enova. She’d built her whole understanding of what it meant to be a warrior around that face in the hall.
Joe said quietly, “Could you tell us more?”
“I’ll satisfy your curiosity.” The woman uncrossed her arms. “Since you asked.”
When she finished, Farrina’s hands were fists.
She hadn’t noticed. She looked down now and saw the blood — her broken fingers had split open again, the wounds she’d been trying not to think about, now seeping through the bandages.
Four hundred years of living in this woman. The Union of witches that had founded the four kingdoms. The church as an offshoot, a corruption, a long slow betrayal of the thing it had begun as. The incarnation ceremony — the process Farrina had yearned for, trained for, held up as the highest possible honor — was a method for providing witches with shells. Empty vessels. Brainwashed. Harvested.
Fight her, said something in her chest. This is lies. This is profanity against everything sacred.
She opened her mouth.
And nothing came out.
Because the story fit. Every anomaly she had filed away and stopped thinking about — the God’s Punishment Warriors who had disappeared, the female bodies drained of blood found near the old Holy City, the large monasteries, the Pure Witches who looked indistinguishable from ordinary witches — all of it arranged itself around this account like bones around a spine.
And the power. Two God’s Punishment Witches had broken Lorenzo’s castle in minutes. An unconscious shell was weaker than a conscious woman. Any engineer of war could see what the church had refused to see: if you needed the strongest possible army against demons, you would arm your witches and put them in the field. Instead, the church had made sure no witch ever received the incarnation. Made sure the warriors were hollow and obedient and owned.
Because the church did not want soldiers it couldn’t control.
The reasoning arrived without her asking for it. She could not unthink it once it came.
Joe asked, voice careful as someone probing ice: “How many like you are there in Neverwinter?”
“Several hundred,” the woman said, shrugging. “We use bodies donated by the church. Don’t be alarmed if you see someone you recognize.”
Farrina understood the question. No witch could inhabit hundreds of vessels simultaneously. The woman was telling them the truth. Not all of the God’s Punishment Warriors were ancient witches. Most were still shells — the original holders long dead, their donated bodies serving a different purpose now.
The world she had built herself inside — the scaffolding of obligation, of being needed, of meaning something — came apart in her chest like a wall that had been wet for years.
There is something I can do, she thought. There must be something.
“The church can rectify this,” she said. Each word cost something. “It can still make things right. You need bodies to create God’s Punishment Witches — the ceremony, the Magic Blood. Only the church could do that. For example — ” She made herself say it. “I could offer mine.”
Joe’s sharp intake of air.
The woman watched her. Not with contempt, exactly. Something more complicated. “You don’t mind losing your mind?”
“If it saves the human race — ”
“Interesting,” the woman said, and the word landed with a flat finality that Farrina recognized as the shape of bad news. “But we don’t need God’s Punishment Witches anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because they don’t work.” She spread her hands, a gesture of simple fact. “Four hundred years ago, perhaps. But the demons have advanced. God’s Punishment Witches can’t defeat them. That’s why all of us now support the King of Graycastle.”
Farrina’s mouth was open. No phrases formed.
“Living witches — however weak — become powerful once they find the right path.” The woman rose and moved toward the door. “King Roland discovered that ordinary witches don’t need magic blood or a shell to grow strong. They can learn. Improve. Become extraordinary through practice.” She paused with one hand on the door frame. “No witch would sacrifice herself for your shell now. It isn’t worth it.”
She looked back once.
“Let me be direct with you,” she said. “The church was a mistake from the beginning.”
The door closed.
Farrina heard something crack deep inside — not a sound, not quite — more like the particular silence after a wall comes down.
Chapter 1113: A Third Wheel Translator: Transn Editor: Transn
“Ms. Army Commander?” Joe stammered. It took him a while to register the person in front of him and understand why the woman looked familiar. But… how was this possible?
“I… don’t understand. You should have been killed in one of the battles during the Months of Demons…” Farrina swallowed hard. “Plus, God’s Punishment Warriors are all extremely pious warriors who have devoted themselves to God. They never — ”
“They never speak, as though they’re mute?” Zooey talked over her. “This has nothing to do with faith. They never talk because they’ve been brainwashed, otherwise, we can’t use their bodies.”
Use their bodies?
“What are you talking about…”
“Well, I want to first ask you though, how did the church advertise the God’s Punishment Army?”
Joe replied fervently, “As the warriors who have obtained God’s power, the mortal enemy of the witches, and the church’s greatest hope to save the world. Only faithful and fearless believers will be granted the honor of becoming a God’s Punishment Warrior,” Joe paused for a few seconds and then said, “I used to think that saving the world meant to stop the demonic beasts invading the interior from the Great Rupture; however, after I read the last will of Pope Tucker Torr, I learned about the Battle of Divine Will and the existence of demons.”
“So, the God’s Punishment Army is actually a special army that fights demons,” Farrina supplied Joe’s answer. “Only the Prival Council of Hermes
knew how to hold the incarnation ceremony. Now, Roland Wimbledon has ruined everything.”
“It sounds very touching, but unfortunately, none of this is true,” Zooey said with a contemptuous smile. “What you believe is that the God’s Punishment Army is merely a tool the usurper used to suppress witches. Although the original purpose of creating such an army was to save the human race, this wasn’t the church’s original idea, but rather, a witch’s.”
Farrina stared at Zooey incredulously. She would have refuted such a groundless allegation had the person talking to her not been the famous Enova, whom she admired.
Joe took a sharp intake of breath and said, “Could you… tell us more about it?”
“Fine. I’ll satisfy your curiosity then, mortals,” Zooey said with a faint smile playing around her lips.
…
After Zooey had told them everything, Farrina felt a pain sear through her ten fingers. Looking down, she noticed that her hands had clenched into fists as her broken fingers started to bleed profusely again.
Now Farrina knew why such a historical figure would suddenly appear in her life, alive and well. The Enova standing in front of her was not the army commander of the Judgement Army she knew, but an ancient witch who has lived for over 400 years.
She would have drawn her sword and fought a life-and-death battle against the witch while accusing her of profanity had she the strength to fight. Even if she could not win, she would not allow a devil to use a warrior’s body in such a disrespectful fashion.
However, she was too weak to get out of her bed.
This was ridiculous.
This was a preposterous absurdity!
According to Zooey, witches had founded the church. They were neither the representation of evil nor the devil’s underlings but were actually the real heroes dedicated to preserving the human race. The Queen of Starfall City had sacrificed herself for mankind. Was there anything more ironic than this? The God’s Punishment Army was actually a creation of the witches whom she despised. The incarnation ceremony she had been longing to attend was merely a process to provide the witches with more shells. Witches had even, in a way, shaped the world.
“Argue with her. This is a lie, a fabrication!”
A voice yelled in her head. Farrina opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Zooey’s story did explain many things.
For example, it explained why some God’s Punishment Warriors had mysteriously disappeared.
Why there were bodies of females drained of blood.
Why there were large monasteries in the old Holy City.
And why there were Pure Witches who looked no different than ordinary witches.
If everything was indeed a perfect lie as Zooey had told, the person who had fabricated all of it must have been staying in the church for decades, and know the church’s largestsecret. Farrina could think of no one but the popes.
Apart from that, there was another piece of solid evidence: “power”.
Since the God’s Punishment Warriors were designed to kill demons, then the stronger the better. From the fact that two God’s Punishment Witches could easily break through the castle on Archduke Island guarded by the God’s Punishment Warriors, Farrina judged that a conscious man was apparently much more powerful than an unconscious killing machine. If witches could exert such incredible power in a body of a God’s Punishment Warrior, why
had the church wanted to kill them? Why had they not made good use of them instead? The church could have definitely used Pure Witches if they were prejudiced against ordinary witches.
In fact, there had not been a single God’s Punishment Witch in Hermes.
Farrina knew the reason.
Because Pure Witches could be subdued by a God’s Stone.
But the church had no feasible measure to control a God’s Punishment Witch as powerful as an Extraordinary.
As a result, they had not considered the creation of God’s Punishment Witches.
If the pope in the Holy City had indeed cared about the human race, many believers would have been willing to sacrifice themselves, including witches.
However, this possibility had long since passed.
Apparently, the church was not as passionate about saving the world as they appeared to be.
“Everything the church did was a joke,” Farrina thought weakly in bed . “The God’s Punishment Warriors were meant to fight the demons but they used them to merely overpower witches.”
This fact seemed to have also gradually dawned on Joe, who asked nervously, “How many people like you are there in Neverwinter?”
“Several hundred,” Zooey answered, shrugging. “We use the bodies donated by the church, so don’t be too flustered if you see someone you know.”
Farrina vaguely understood why Joe asked that.
It was impossible for the witches to impersonate hundreds of God’s Punishment Warriors at a time.
Judging from the innocent look on Zooey’s face, Farrina knew she was telling the truth.
Zooey’s answer cleared her last doubt.
Farrina felt the world that she had been relying on gradually fall apart.
She wanted to be needed.
She used to put her faith in the church. As a church member, she was obligated to shoulder the responsibility of saving the four kingdoms and the human race. But now, everything she had once firmly believed in began to crumble like a weathered wall inside her, behind which nothing remained.
She must… do something.
“The church… the church can rectify it… and make things right again…” Farrina said with difficulty.
“How?” Zooey asked, shooting her a cold stare.
“You need… bodies to create God’s Punishment Witches, right? Only the church can do that. For example, me — ” Farrina gasped. “I can offer my body.”
“Hmm,” Zooey said, a playful smile fluttering over her face. “You don’t mind losing your mind?”
“Farrina!” Joe exclaimed exasperatedly
“If that will save the human race — ”
In this way, she would have something else to rely on and would be needed again…
However, her dream was shattered as Zooey said coldly to her, “Very interesting, mortal, but we no longer need God’s Punishment Witches anymore.”
“Wh-why?”
“Because it doesn’t work,” Zooey said while spreading out her hands. “The plan probably would have worked if this was still 400 years ago, but the demons have improved a lot too. God’s Punishment Witches can’t defeat them anymore. That’s why all of us are now supporting the King of Graycastle.”
“…” Farrina’s parched lips parted like a dumb man’s. For a moment, phrases attempted to form in her mouth but in the end, she only managed to produce a few odd hissing noises.
“Living witches, no matter how weak they are, can still be very powerful once they’ve found the right path. King Roland discovered that ordinary witches don’t necessarily need magic blood or a shell to become strong. Everyone now believes that they can learn and make progress,” Zooey said as she rose to her feet and headed to the door. “In other words, no witch would be willing to offer their blood even if you wanted to sacrifice your body, because it’s not worth it.”
Zooey stopped and smiled at Farrina at the doorway.
“Let me be frank with you, the church was a mistake from the beginning.”
Farrina heard something crack deep down inside.