CH1364 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1364: Cooperation

“Magic power didn’t exist in this world?” Nightingale set down her comics. “Would the world even look the same if it had always been there? Are the two of you overthinking this?”

”…Perhaps.” Anna blinked, coming back from wherever her thoughts had taken her. “The effect of any force is immediately felt. Introducing even a minor component force into a balanced system will alter it — and magic power is hardly minor. It’s everywhere. If it truly appeared from nothing, then the world before its arrival would have been completely different. But from everything you’ve described, that earlier world sounds remarkably like this one — water flowing, snow melting, the sun warming the earth, life growing from soil. Except for magic power itself, it seems identical.”

“Which is why it deserves to be called the most revered force.” Roland pressed his hands together, suppressing the chill that had settled along his spine. “Not gravity, not any of the four fundamentals. Magic power. A force with the ability to enter an established system seamlessly and rewrite everything — as though it stands above the laws that govern everything else.”

“Is that actually possible?” Anna frowned.

“It’s a conjecture.” He turned his own hands over, studying them. “But I think magic power did change something when it appeared — only perhaps not in the way whoever released it intended.” A beat. “That’s why it was called a price.”

“That’s…” Nightingale covered her mouth. “Terrifying.”

“No. It’s actually good news.”

“How?”

“Magic power still exists in our world right now.” Roland looked at both of them in turn. “This means that whatever God is, it cannot retrieve this price — it cannot undo what was done. If that’s true, then magic power is permanent. It will keep existing.” He held Nightingale’s gaze. “Which means none of you disappear out of the blue.”

“Ahem—” Nightingale tilted her head, considering. “That’s… actually reasonable.”

“We’re in the third month of the Months of Demons and there hasn’t been a single new witch awakening,” Anna said, faint amusement in her voice. “Who do we blame for that?”

“Well — about that—” Roland had no answer.

“Enough joking.” Anna’s smile settled. “So: using all of this as a basis, the Battle of Divine Will, the racial upgrades — all of it emerged from magic power’s arrival, and eventually produced the world we know?”

“That seems to follow logically. The legacy shards and the Realm of Mind are clearly connected to magic power, and everything we’ve excavated confirms that civilizations existed here before ours did.” Roland let his voice slow down, the urgency draining into something more measured. “Right now I’m more concerned about two things. First, the red cavity that seems to be taking shape and consuming part of the world. Second, the liberation that Lan spoke of — the Oracle who turned against God.”

“For the first — you think it’s affecting our planet?”

He nodded. “If only we could get high enough to look. Our technology isn’t there yet.” He paused. “As for Lan’s liberation — it has to be tied to stopping the Battle of Divine Will. What it means beyond that, I don’t think we’ll know until we reach the Bottomless Land.”


Roland had expected the Martialist Association to move the way large institutions always moved: slowly, procedurally, with weeks of internal deliberation before producing any concrete result. A preliminary consensus was one thing — turning it into statutes and plans was another matter entirely. Rather than waiting, he had been considering what to ask for himself: technological information channeled to Scroll, specialized training arranged for Saint Miran, Dido, and the other Taquila witches.

Reality had other ideas.

In the span of a single day — returning to the Dream World that same night — he received a call through Garcia.

“Mister Rock’s secretary asked me to inform you that the first support plan has been negotiated and approved by Prism City. Implementation requires your attendance. The meeting is at Clover Group’s modern car dealership, in the projects department. If you have no other arrangements, we can go immediately.”

“We?” Roland was still catching up when the line went dead.

A knock at his door followed within moments.

It was Garcia.

“Why did Rock’s secretary have to contact you to contact me?” Roland asked. “Couldn’t the Defender just call directly? He had to trouble you to come here in person.”

“You still don’t understand how this works.” Her tone carried something dry under its surface. “This is the formal channel. You’ve been given the Association’s official recognition — this is what that looks like. There will be prominent people at this meeting, and showing up alone would embarrass the Association. Going forward, let me handle all formal contacts. If you’re ready, we leave now.”

“I haven’t showered.”

She looked at him. “Then go.”

She showed no intention of leaving. Roland complied.

It was only when they reached the ground floor that they both registered the absence of Garcia’s sports car, demolished in the rescue operation. They ended up taking his familiar SUV out of the neighborhood.

“I’ll pay for your car,” he said from the passenger seat. “But — are you sure this vehicle won’t affect the Association’s image?”

“Shut up.” Garcia stared through the windscreen, jaw set.

Roland kept himself out of her line of sight.

Once they were clear of the city, her expression eased somewhat. “Given that it was to save a life — I can consider it an acceptable loss, for now. I’ll hold to the Association’s confidentiality requirements and not ask what happened there.”

He hadn’t expected that. He sat with it for a moment. ”…Yes. Thank you.”

“This doesn’t settle your debt with me.” Her voice went sharp. “When the secrecy order is lifted, you tell me everything — who Zero is, the true identity of those relatives of yours. Every detail.”

She had noticed. He hadn’t expected her not to — she had stood there while Scroll produced the magical sutures, while the God’s Punishment Witches moved without surprise or confusion. But she had held the observation in reserve, waiting. That restraint, that deliberate willingness to wait, settled something warm in his chest.

There was Fei Yuhan. There was Rock. And there was Garcia, waiting.

With so many people moving around the edges of the Dream World — all of them pushing toward the same uncertain future — the future felt worth protecting precisely because it was uncertain.

“When it’s over,” Roland said, “I’ll tell you everything.”


Driving into the factory district, Roland looked for the eye-catching sign of the modern car dealership and found it gone. In its place, a new board hung over the entrance, its lettering picked out in fresh gold.

His eyes went wide.

Design Bureau of Graycastle.

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