Rewrite That Witch
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Chapter 1391: Obstructing the Miracle

Kingdom of Dawn. Cage Mountain. Command Post.

The war map dominated the center of the meeting room — a large, careful thing, pinned with a label that read Floating Island and traced with a thick red line showing the object’s projected path. Every day, members of the General Staff and the Intelligence Agency arrived with new data, and every day the upper echelons of the First Army studied that red line the way a sailor studies an approaching weather front.

The path had been corrected midway. Instead of driving south along the continent’s Ridge into Everwinter, the Deity of Gods had turned and was bearing toward the Fertile Plains. It was also descending — now less than a kilometer above ground. At its current trajectory, the floating island would cross the Impassable Mountain Range in four days and enter the Kingdom of Wolfheart.

The thing was large enough that you could make out its hazy shape with a telescope from a mountaintop without a map at all. It sat against the northern sky like a mass of dark cloud that had forgotten to move, adding a sinister weight to a continent that had barely finished shaking off the Months of Demons.

The pre-war meeting convened.

The consensus at command was already settled: the First Army could not stop the floating island. But to flee at its approach was not how the army operated. Whatever the outcome, they would probe the enemy’s strength and attempt an assault. Against an enemy this poorly understood, a direct engagement was the most reliable source of intelligence. Before the Majesty’s final decision arrived, preparation was the only productive action available — and so preparation became everything.

“According to our latest observations,” Edith said, slapping the report down on the table, “the demon stronghold’s altitude has already dropped by over two thousand meters — roughly half the height of the continent’s Ridge. The General Staff has concluded that maintaining altitude consumes magic power proportionally, and that the reference point is relative to the ground surface, which is why the descent accelerates as they approach the lowlands.”

She had never called it the Deity of Gods in a briefing. Stronghold. Or mobile fortress. Whatever the demons chose to name it, she preferred words that did not give the soldiers the impression they were marching against divinity.

Most of the senior officers had completed their middle-level courses, but even so, the conclusion required a moment to absorb.

“So once they clear the Impassable Mountain Range,” Brian said, “it rises again?”

“If our speculation is correct.” Edith shrugged.

“The reason isn’t important.” Iron Axe cut through the digression. “What matters is that it’s currently hovering a few hundred meters above the Ridge. Van’er — what does your team have?”

Van’er walked to the map. “The survey team has confirmed two viable platforms between Metalstone Ridge and Cage Mountains — flat enough and well-positioned enough for the Longsong Cannons. As long as the target doesn’t deviate from its current course, we can hit it. With the new cannons, we may even reach the Demon City itself.”

The 152mm Longsong Cannon had not sat still through the war. The current version benefited from improved barrel production methods and better carriage designs for transport, but the defining change was in the chamber — paired with new gunpowder formulations, the effective range had climbed to eighteen kilometers, a severalfold increase over the earlier models. The loss of a few guns in the process no longer warranted a meeting. Anna’s direct involvement in final precision machining had given way to broader production, and the tolerances had widened; the new cannons were not as individually perfect, but there were more of them, and the Witches running the lines had grown sharp enough that occasional failures were simply the cost of doing business.

“I believe the demons are heading for Wolfheart,” Iron Axe continued. “The Deity of Gods can generate Red Mist, but the Red Mist dissipates the moment it moves; if they intend to hold territory, they need a large network of Red Mist storage towers in place first. With the mobile Obelisks, that construction is no longer the obstacle it once was. Once Everwinter and Wolfheart connect, the assault window along this predicted route will close. The probability is high. The only remaining question is what we can realistically accomplish.”

The question hung over the table for a moment. Everyone understood the difference between this engagement and the earlier campaign against the Monstrous Beasts. Bombarding the Fortress-like Beasts had been a clear proposition: hit the target enough times, and it died. Bombarding the Deity of Gods yielded something harder to measure. Even if shells reached the Demon City, the damage would be limited. And at eighteen kilometers from the island’s edge, they were not yet safe from what the island might do in return — especially given the Devilbeasts circling it in number.

“I think it’s worth attempting, Commander-in-chief.” Van’er took a moment before speaking. “Once the floating island enters Wolfheart, only the Aerial Knights can reach it. The First Army becomes rear support. This is the one window where the cannons can play a meaningful role.” She paused. “Even if we cannot cause real damage, we can at least make our position clear — that we will not yield.”

Iron Axe looked at the Pearl of the Northern Region.

Edith was quiet for a long time. When she finally moved, it was only to nod. “I have no objections.”

“Then we proceed.” Iron Axe drew a slow breath and turned to the room. “Execute the assault plan as discussed. Time is already short — I want to see movement immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

The summary came quickly: two positions designated for the Longsong Cannons — one genuine, one false. The decoy site was placed closer to the mobile fortress, positioned to draw the enemy’s attention. Hummingbird would handle the logistics of moving the guns to the real position in the mountains above Hermes; the order was to fire, then destroy the cannons before retreating — they would not be leaving weapons for the enemy to collect. The Aerial Knight Unit and the God’s Punishment Witch Army would provide protection and support for the entire operation.

With a direction established, the army moved without needing to be pushed. The various departments fell into their familiar machinery, each part knowing its function.

Back in the General Staff’s office, Ferlin stopped the minister before she could leave.

“My lord — was there something inadequate in the meeting?”

Edith turned. “Why do you say that?”

“You spoke less than usual.”

“I see.” Her eyebrow lifted a fraction. “I was thinking about a question. The demons call that thing the Deity of Gods — which means they hold great expectations for it. But from everything we can observe, it appears to be a platform for distributing Red Mist and little else. Nothing out of the ordinary. And that absence — a name that heavy attached to something this unremarkable — troubles me. I believe the floating island may be concealing something we have no knowledge of. That it is not as simple as it appears.”

“Then why didn’t you raise it?”

“Because raising it would only create unease without providing anything actionable.” Her tone remained perfectly level; her face, as always, gave nothing. “We have no knowledge with which to form a useful response. It would not be correct for me to propose a plan built on speculation alone. The assault team will give us our answer — whatever that answer turns out to be.”

Ferlin felt something cold move through him at the evenness of those words.

“The Army’s current priority is to ensure thorough preparations,” Edith continued, already turning back to her papers. “Trial and error is part of the preparations.”

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