Rewrite That Witch
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Chapter 1435: Capturing the Deity of Gods

Two days later, the Deity of Gods reached its ceiling.

Nearly five thousand meters above ground, it hung in the sky like a cone driven into the clouds and left there — permanent, immovable. The shadow it cast across the Kingdom of Dawn swallowed a third of the land and ended daylight hours earlier than nature intended.

Without the advance preparations of the higher-ups — the orders for civilians to remain indoors, martial law imposed across the cities — the sight alone would have been sufficient to unravel public order. It was that kind of presence. The kind that does not ask for acknowledgment.

Then the Deity of Gods began moving toward Graycastle. Its shadow dragged a new line across the ground, a second boundary between day and night that moved with it. Silent Disaster and Sky Lord could not operate the core apparatus, but they had managed to close the Red Mist valves — the one clean piece of good news. At the very least, there would be no spillage across the landscape.

The Witch Union and Graycastle’s Administrative Office had not been idle during those two days. In a sprint across most of the kingdom’s geography, they transferred a magic power core and its operator onto the floating island.

Roland opened the sealed wooden crate inside the temporary warehouse and found Celine.

“Phew — I don’t need to breathe, but being packed into a small space for that long was genuinely unpleasant.” She spread her tentacles in what might have been a full-body sigh.

“I know. I’m sorry it had to be that way.” He did know — the particular quality of being sealed and immobile was something he understood from experience, the kind of experience that sent some people permanently sideways. If the situation hadn’t demanded it, he would have waited for the large aircraft to come online rather than ship her like cargo.

“Compared to what we have survived, this is nothing.” She looked around the warehouse. “Still — I must admit it is more surprising than I expected, actually collaborating with demons, Your Majesty.” She lowered her main tentacle and dropped her voice. “Are you certain of this? They are heartless, merciless enemies. Deception is ordinary to them. To be honest, if this hadn’t come from you, Alethea would never have agreed.”

“Trust me,” Roland said through their link, and meant it. “The Deity of Gods cannot be allowed to fall on the Four Kingdoms. We cannot absorb that loss.”

“To choose the lesser evil — that was something the Three Chiefs frequently had to do.” Her voice softened. “I believe your judgment.”

“I’m grateful Alethea isn’t the one operating the apparatus,” Roland admitted. “Otherwise I’d be managing two crises at once.”

“You have that wrong.” Celine’s tone shifted to something quieter. “She was furious when she learned of all this. But the person who packed me into the crate was her.”

Roland felt something warm move through him, unexpected and certain.

“All right — where is the Senior Demon? I can’t wait to get up onto the floating city.”

He blinked. “You actually want to go up there?”

“Of course! A new core to study — one that uses a God’s Stone of Retaliation to control magic power and generate buoyancy, the mechanics of that alone are extraordinary!” Her enthusiasm shifted pitch. “And it is a demon city. A city*. In the entire history of the Battle of Divine Will, no one has ever assaulted a demon city, much less occupied one!”*

“When you put it that way…” Roland turned toward the far corner of the warehouse. “Follow me.”

Beyond a reinforced door, Hackzord and Serakkas stood waiting in a room ringed by ten God’s Punishment Witches. Both parties held positions as far from the other as the room allowed, watching each other with the particular alertness of temporary allies who hadn’t forgotten what they were.

“This—” Hackzord’s eyebrow rose the moment he saw Celine. “A carrier body of the underground civilization? With a Witch merged into it?”

“You’ve never attempted that?” Roland asked out of genuine curiosity.

“Only Nassaupelle has interest in turning himself into a monster.” The Sky Lord dismissed the question. “If you’re ready, let’s begin.”

“We’ve gone over the details of this mission once. For everyone present, I’ll repeat the essentials.” Roland scanned the room. “The core controlling the Deity of Gods is at the lowest level of the obelisk, inside the Red Mist Lake. The main force entering will be God’s Punishment Witches and the First Army. Expect resistance — primarily Symbiotic Demons or Monstrous Beasts. Do not advance prematurely. The First Army secures the perimeter first. Only when the area is declared clear do we approach the core. The God’s Punishment Witches’ primary task is the protection of Celine.” He stopped on two figures. “I leave that to the two of you.”

Phyllis and Zooey bowed. “Yes.”

According to Hackzord, Plan B’s early activation had left over ten thousand Inferior Demons and several thousand Mad Demons stranded on the floating island. They took their orders from senior lords and had posed no obstruction. The senior demons serving Mask had been dealt with by Silent Disaster. The only uncontrollable element was the Monstrous Beasts — creatures made, not commanded. Hackzord had sealed the main nesting ground doors early, but no one could account for the numbers already loose inside the city.

“Move out.”

Hackzord snapped his fingers. A dark aperture of magic power opened behind him, red mist curling at its edges.

The two senior lords went first.

Behind them: the God’s Punishment Witches and Celine.

Then the warehouse doors opened, and a thousand soldiers — fully equipped, carrying everything the operation would require — filed through the Distortion Door.

Operation City Capture had begun.

“So this is… the interior of the demon city.”

Even Celine’s voice carried something like awe. She had spent her existence studying magic power in forms most Witches would never encounter — but standing at the base of the vast pit, looking up at the obelisk as it jutted from the Red Mist Lake like a pillar reaching for the sky, her composure registered the impact.

The sheer proximity changed the scale of it. Knowing a thing’s dimensions is not the same as being inside them.

“What’s first?” Phyllis kept her eyes moving across the cavern and spoke quietly.

“We need to locate the control core.” Celine turned her gaze upward to the magic power cores revolving above the lake’s surface. “The core apparatus can transmute any ability, so we try ‘balance’ or ‘observation’ first and see what responds.”

“Measurement — that’s not the name of a magic stone?”

“In a sense, magic power cores and magic stones are the same thing. The difference is scale and complexity. After studying Isabella’s research notes, I’ve come to think they aren’t fundamentally different from Witches — we all activate magic power through the same underlying method.”

Phyllis was quiet for a moment. “And once a connection is established?”

“From there, I analyze the demon core’s composition — the same way magic stones are used to analyze a Witch’s abilities. His Majesty needs the entire floating island to land safely. Slowing the descent is far simpler than creating a new ability from nothing. Much simpler than it sounds.”

“Miss Phyllis, Miss Celine.” Brian walked over from the defensive line. “The First Army’s positions are set. The next step is yours.”

Celine inclined her main tentacle and raised the magic power core she had brought.

It came to life in her grasp — a deep, resonant blue, swelling and then lifting free of her hold, floating unsupported in the red-misted air.

A single thread appeared without sound, extending from the core straight toward the obelisk. Taut. Unmoving. As if it had always been there, drawn across the surface of the Red Mist Lake since before any of them had arrived — only now made visible.

Every eye in the cavern followed it.

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