Rewrite That Witch
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Chapter 1489: Once Again, Battle of Souls

Roland was silent for a long time.

Behind the entity, thousands of screens stretched into the distance — each alive with motion, with creatures cycling through birth and consumption and death. The accumulated evidence of countless prior cycles. The Battle of Divine Will had run long enough to confirm one thing: nothing that breathed had ever exceeded the barrier on its own.

The world hadn’t been named Cradle deliberately. It simply held what it held.

“Then what is the Realm of Mind?” he asked at last.

“The core of the Cradle.” No hesitation. “Magic power can be driven by will, but it does not simply become whatever is willed. Through countless evolutionary cycles it was gradually shaped into something life could use — a form of energy subject to this world’s laws. This confirms the Creator’s theory. The method involved a small deviation.”

A small deviation. Roland turned the phrase over. Perhaps no one could have imagined it: that thought alone — something invisible, untouchable — could reduce entropy in reality. That was perhaps the most extraordinary thing about magic power.

“Usage of magic power still requires method and calculation, yet it remains incompatible with the mathematics and natural laws we already understand. If it had not changed me, I would not be able to comprehend its laws.”

The entity extended one finger and swept it through the air. The screens behind it collapsed into a single image — thousands of light beams rising into the sky, reflecting from the barrier, converging on the Bottomless Land below.

“After a tremendous span of time, the Cradle determined that even within the Battle of Divine Will, lifeforms require an extremely long period of growth and comprehension before they can use magic power effectively — even when born surrounded by it. The Realm of Mind was built to accelerate this process. It takes over a portion of the conversion work, speeding the transfer of capability, allowing the resulting magic power to then reshape the body.”

“So the light beams — the keys — are data conduits?”

“Calling them conduits is imprecise. They are magic power rendered as information. The Realm of Mind performs a calculation based on the user’s desires and expectations, then returns the result. This allows lifeforms to command large quantities of magic power in a very short time, compressing what would otherwise require generations.”

“Which means you know every change in the Cradle.”

“Yes. It is a necessary condition for the system’s continued function.”

So that’s it. Several old questions settled quietly. Why some witches’ light beams ran visibly thicker than others, even when their abilities seemed modest — it had nothing to do with the power produced and everything to do with the complexity of the underlying process. And abilities like Andrea’s sure-hit, or Momo’s capacity to read a lifespan — those emerged from something like prediction, built on a vast information web, the Cradle’s comprehensive model of everything inside the barrier. Given sufficient processing power, even Chaos effects could be resolved. When exterior conditions were deterministic, the outcome followed.

A civilization that had tried to play God. He was entirely convinced of it.

“And the Dream World — it’s already interfering with your plan.”

“Yes. It occupies resources and destabilizes the core. You should have noticed already: magic users in the world are decreasing. A symptom of the Realm of Mind being overtaxed. To prevent the Cradle’s structure from collapsing, I must return everything to its original state.” The tone shifted — something that might have been sorrow, if the thing speaking could feel it. “Child. Look at what you have done. Every piece of evolution information accumulated to this day will be erased.”

That’s a great deal of blame to lay on one person. Roland let the corner of his mouth move.

“I don’t understand. If you can build the Cradle, you can control the entire Realm of Mind. Why not simply let the Dream World be destroyed from the beginning?”

“Because the evolution of life encompasses infinite possibilities — more so under magic power’s influence.” It had anticipated the question. “I allocated a portion of the Realm of Mind’s resources to other civilizations. An acquiescence, mainly, allowing them to study the power of cores. Artificial interference and correction risk foreclosing the very evolutionary possibility the project is designed to produce. To ensure a multifaceted outcome, external interference is restricted — unless it has already threatened the entire project and the Cradle itself.”

So it’s not that God cannot act. It bound itself by its own foundational rules.

“I suppose expressing regret at this point is already too late?”

“From the moment you arrived here, it was already too late.”

“Even so—” Roland let the teasing fall from his face entirely and looked straight at the entity. “I don’t believe that life resisting the shackles placed on it is a mistake. If I were given the choice again, I would do the same.”

“I can understand. You believe yourselves extraordinary. Sentient lifeforms develop logic but rarely abide by it. That may be exactly why magic power resonates with you.”

“Less mutual understanding would be better, I think.” Roland spread his hands and quietly focused. A short sword formed in his palm, the white space bending around his intention. “This place is fundamentally part of the Realm of Mind. I’m right about that.” He turned the blade once. “Entering the Divine Domain was never the critical point — this is your territory, and reckless intrusion results in simple annihilation. The only way to threaten your existence is to use Erosion to change the laws from within. You know that.”

“So you had this idea from the very beginning.” The entity raised one finger toward him, almost like an acknowledgment. “Very well. Though I cannot endorse such acts, I can give you the appropriate degree of respect. Beyond telling you everything, I will give you a chance to resist — so that you understand the distance between us.”

It had barely finished speaking when something slammed into Roland’s skull from the inside.

The pain was extraordinary. He cried out before he could stop himself.

Words and formulas cascaded across his vision — an illusory torrent of light: grand unification theory, superstring theory, multidimension law, theory of everything. Every framework that had eluded human civilization for centuries materialized in sequence, and he found he could grasp each one. A door swinging open. Many doors.

“The Realm of Mind has a record of an anomalous conflict. Calling it the Battle of Souls seems fitting.” The entity rose slowly from the platform. “Your brain is now connected to the Cradle’s knowledge vault. Knowledge accumulated over tens of millions of years is open to you. If you wish to surrender, you may. The world’s remolding will bring you no pain — everything will be over in an instant—”

“What are you saying?” Roland cut across it without hesitation. “You’ve given me this chance. How could I walk away from it?”

He raised one hand and swung.

The platform and stairs shattered. The pure white background split apart, falling away to reveal black space — ancient dark, scattered burning points of light.

Armadas materialized from nothing, arranging themselves in vast geometric formation behind him — the scene from Epsilon’s memories, rendered now at full scale.

Every weapon system trained itself on the entity under Roland’s will. The instant the intent to fire solidified in his mind, blinding light consumed the starfield entire.

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