CH353 · Rewrite
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Chapter 353: The Quest Society

Light found the edge of the curtains at dawn.

Agatha had not slept.

She lay still in the dark and let Nightingale’s words work through her a second time, and a third, the way you worry a splinter you can’t quite reach. The mortals of this continent are the most powerful ones. So much can change in four hundred years. Why can’t you let go of past ideas? You still have much time ahead of you. Confirm it with your own eyes.

She rolled out of bed and crossed to the clothes-rack. Her hand rested on the robe of the Taquila Quest Society — she held the fabric a moment without putting it on, remembering the day the Three Chief Witches had given their unanimous approval, remembering what it had felt like to earn it. Existence is truth. That had been the Quest Society’s most revered motto: not belief, not doctrine, not tradition. Existence. What was actually there.

If those mortals could genuinely prove their ability, if what Nightingale described was observable and real rather than the loyalty-fervor of a woman in service — then the motto demanded she look at it.

Agatha put on the robe, opened the door, and walked toward the great hall.

I may be the last member of the Quest Society still alive, she thought. The last survivor of Taquila, certainly. Rebuilding a new Holy City won’t happen in a day. But before I decide what comes next, I might as well see what this prince with gray hair is actually capable of — what it is he’s done that has witches taking his orders.


After breakfast, Wendy accompanied her to the prince’s office.

Agatha studied him at a glance. He looked like any man from four hundred years ago — nothing external that should have marked him. And yet his presence was wrong for a merchant, wrong for a mercenary, wrong for a farmer, wrong for the head of a guard company like her Kaff. Those types were transparent, their deepest concerns readable in the first moments of conversation, the way symbols on parchment were readable. This man was not. Especially his eyes — a simple grey, nothing unusual in the color itself, but what lived behind the color was something she couldn’t place: confidence, yes, but not the blind optimism of the fortunate. Something quieter than that. Something that had the texture of experience accumulated across a very long time. As though he’d seen enough of the world to have stopped being surprised by it.

Why do I feel this way?

Roland Wimbledon, she noted to herself. Remember this name.

“How did you sleep?” He smiled. “Did the oatmeal and fried eggs four hundred years into the future agree with you?”

“They were acceptable. It would have been better without the unannounced visitor.”

He looked briefly caught, then resigned. “Fair enough. She’ll knock next time. And if you want to take a walk and see how people here live, Nightingale can show you around — or if you’d rather read, Scroll has everything she’s ever read still in her head.”

“People’s customs.” Agatha frowned. “With the demons massing on our doorstep, you want me to take a stroll? If you genuinely cannot hold them off, all the history and local color in the world means nothing.”

He smiled again, differently this time — not reassurance, something more like amusement at a problem he’d already solved. “Heavy industry and civilian livelihood are both part of the equation. Why are you so interested in the cannons?”

“What do you mean by heavy and light?”

“Nothing — forget I said it.” He set down his pen. “You’ll see for yourself this afternoon. We’re testing new weapons. But first, I have questions about Taquila — about the Holy City as it was four hundred and fifty years ago.”

New weapons. Mortals operating new weapons. Her mind went immediately to crossbows and mangonels. Improvements on those would not be enough. Not against what was coming. But she kept her expression still. “Ask.”

“You said Taquila was governed by witches and that mortals without magical ability occupied the lowest class. How many meals did they eat each day? What was their staple food? Did they eat much meat?”

Agatha blinked. She had prepared herself for questions about demon battle formations, about the composition of the Bliss Army, about the sequence of the Battles of Divine Will. Not this.

“The mortals had their own hierarchy. Those who served Senior Witches — running errands, guarding the city — ranked roughly with the lowest assistant witches. Below them were farmers and merchants, and below those were slaves and coolies. As for what they ate — I have no idea. No witch in the Upper City paid attention to such things. My own guards and servants received three meals each day. During ordinary months, they got meat once a week.”

“What were they paid?”

“Paid?” She raised an eyebrow. “Money, you mean? They entered my service and vowed to remain for life. In exchange I gave them shelter, food, and knowledge. No other compensation was necessary.”

He nodded and wrote. “Did witches participate in farming, livestock breeding, or iron-forging?”

“All such work fell to assistant witches. Ordinary mortals working alone could never meet the Union’s needs — assistant witches were superior to commoners in every material respect.”

This pattern continued for nearly half an hour. He asked about the basic structure of daily life in the major witch cities: labor arrangements, food supply, the organization of production. Detailed questions, specific ones. Questions about things Agatha had never thought worth attention.

Does he not understand that demons have already taken more than half of the Dawn Region? That the third Battle is close? These small domestic questions seem designed to tell him nothing useful.

He paused at last and passed his notes to Scroll.

“You mentioned being a member of the Quest Society. That the Society specifically studied Magic Stones and the nature of magical power.”

Finally. A question that had weight. Agatha straightened slightly. “Yes. What is called a Magic Stone is a God’s Stone of Retaliation that has been transformed. It can suppress a witch’s ability in the usual way — but it can also grant her entirely different powers.”

The reaction around the room was immediate. Tilly blurted: “How?”

A small, familiar pleasure moved through Agatha — the pleasure of having information that others needed. This was what the Quest Society was for. “The Society sacrificed endlessly over four centuries to learn the relationship between magical power and the Stones. I can share what we found — but in exchange, I want your knowledge about increasing witch awakening rates.”

Tilly and Roland exchanged a look. “No objection,” Tilly said. “But I’m still confused about something.” She raised her left hand. The blue crystal on her finger caught the light and scattered it in streaks of cold brilliance. “This Magic Stone was found in ancient ruins. It allows me to fly. It’s enormously powerful — in battle, it gives both an attacking advantage and an escape route, and it’s saved considerable time in daily travel.” She let her hand drop. “So why did you retreat on foot? How was it that even a Senior Awakened Witch like yourself didn’t carry a Stone this useful?”

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