Chapter 355: Miracles
The group stared at her in silence. At last the prince cleared his throat.
“Isn’t the red fog extremely toxic? There’s no way to approach it.”
“It’s only toxic to witches.” Agatha’s reply was flat, indifferent to the alarm in his voice. “According to the Quest Society’s research, normal humans, plants, animals — all can survive beneath the red fog. Fire speeds its dispersal.”
She let that settle. Then, with an edge she made no effort to hide: “Weren’t you the one who said ordinary people could fight the Devils? Then prove it. The winged hybrids can be lured off by your flying witches.” She pointed toward Tilly. “The rest can wait in position while we rouse the Devils and drive them into a trap. If you were telling the truth, taking this stronghold ought to be straightforward.”
Roland chuckled and shook his head. “I should have mentioned this earlier — the reconnaissance was done by hot air balloon, not by witches. That kind of craft holds a dozen people at most. We can’t carry a full troop.” He paused. “And the plan you’re describing carries enormous risk. We have no estimate of numbers. Close-quarters fighting means casualties, not to mention the danger of luring the Devilbeasts. I won’t put my people in that position.”
“How could anyone have a foolproof plan for fighting the Devils?” Agatha’s voice tightened. Every time the Blessed Army had mobilized in the old days, everyone who marched understood it might be the last thing they did. This prince — this paper-soldier prince — fretted over every single life as though war were a problem to be solved rather than a furnace to be endured. Casualties were not failures. They were the cost of an end worth having. Only a naive rookie, someone who had never tasted the cruel reality of battle, would worry so much over each individual.
She controlled herself. Kept the contempt from her face. In the afternoon, after she watched his presentation of this so-called new weapon, everything would be clear.
Though by now she harbored no real expectations.
A prince who had only fought on paper. A handful of witches with support abilities. Fragile, useless ordinary mortals. Even with the most powerful weapons in the world, how strong could they be?
Perhaps from the moment the Union collapsed, humanity had already been destined to fall.
“You often speak of the Battle of Divine Will,” Roland said, setting a fresh sheet of paper before him and raising his quill. “Why call it that? Isn’t it simply a war against a Devil invasion?”
“That’s what everyone called it. The histories never recorded the original reason.” Agatha’s tone had lost its edge, replaced by something heavier. “It’s not wrong to call it a war against invasion — the Devils did come to the Land of Dawn through the stone gates.”
“What stone gates?” Scroll couldn’t help interrupting.
“The Gates of Hell.” Agatha exhaled. “On the eve of the Bloody Moon, the Gates of Hell shall open, engulfing the world we know. That’s what was written. Either way, these damned stone gates appear every few hundred years. The first horde of Devils used them to enter the Land of Dawn and set about murdering everything in their path.”
“So the pattern of their invasions is tied to this as well?”
“They need the red fog to survive. To leave it, they carry their own reservoirs — leather pouches, metal containers, hides from demonic beasts. That’s what allowed the second and third Battles of Divine Will to happen at all. Only when the stone gates open again can the Devils construct their fog-generating Obelisks, usually taller than mountains, with a diffusion range wide enough to cover the entire Fertile Plains.” She laid it out slowly, carefully, as though reciting something from memory that still hurt to recall. “If another Battle of Divine Will erupts, the Devils will build an Obelisk in the heart of the plains as their anchor. Once it’s complete, they’ll use their fog-boundary fortresses to push outward. This time, there will be nowhere left for humanity to run.”
“Everyone could at least escape to the Fjords,” Tilly said, with a small shrug. “Weather the storm there.”
“Those few islands in the Swirling Sea?” Agatha’s retort was sharp as a slap. “How many people could a scrap of land like that sustain? It’s a place to wait for death, nothing more.”
“Alright.” The prince set down his quill. “Let’s at least acknowledge we now have a better picture of what we’re facing.” He stretched. “By the time the third Battle of Divine Will begins, we won’t be caught unprepared. We can continue after lunch.”
The meal was, against all expectation, extraordinary.
Agatha followed Wendy back to her room afterward, still turning the thought over: life here, in this wasteland border town, was more luxurious than she had imagined. The variety, the quality — better than any feast she could call to memory. She had grown up in wartime, and her memories of food were bread, jerky, and vegetable soup at the stone tower and at the Union’s fortress. Here there was salt, butter, honey, spices she couldn’t name. Even trying to keep her dignity intact, she had eaten an entire plate of fried mushrooms and two generous pieces of honeyed steak without noticing until both were gone.
The more she ate, the angrier she became.
She loathed herself for surrendering to it. She loathed him — this prince savoring fine things while the world walked toward its end.
“I know my way around the castle now,” she said, hearing the hardness in her own voice. “You needn’t escort me back from now on.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” Wendy smiled, and meant it. “And — if you ever want to talk, I’m here. Bottling things up only makes them fester.”
“Didn’t he say he would show us the new weapons this afternoon? Why did he leave by himself after eating?”
“You mean Roland?” Wendy covered a smile with her hand. “He’s probably taking a nap. It’s His Highness’s habit — after lunch, he always sleeps at least an hour. He says the body is the foundation of all effort. Without enough rest, it’s impossible to do a lord’s work.”
An afternoon nap. Agatha kept her face still with effort. A whole night of sleep isn’t enough? This is obviously a lazy man inventing excuses — and you believe him with your whole heart.
She took a breath. “Whether they’re ordinary witches or Senior Awakened — why do you all have such confidence in him?” She kept her voice level. “Is it simply because he gave you a safe place? Do you actually believe he can win against the Devils — or even against the Church that has been hunting all of you?”
“I can’t speak for the others.” Wendy’s voice was gentle but unhesitating. “But I believe in him. Because His Highness makes things happen that no one else imagined — or dared to imagine. To me, he’s someone who has made countless miracles real.”
“Mira — cles?”
“When witches everywhere were being hunted to death, he saved the Association. When everyone saw us as demons, he created a place where we could live alongside others. In a single year, His Highness used an army of peasants to fend off the Months of the Demons — and defeated Duke Ryan, who held a territory several times the size of his. Even the empowered army of Graycastle couldn’t cross our border.”
“But those are mortal battles.” Agatha shook her head. “Against the war between the God’s Punishment Army and the Devils, they’re different in every way.”
“It’s not only that,” Wendy continued, untroubled. “His knowledge allowed four sisters to evolve their abilities. He has made increasingly powerful weapons, weapons that let knights — let ordinary people — overcome Extraordinaries.” She held Agatha’s gaze. “I witnessed these things myself. Not tavern rumors. Not the boast of a chronicle. They happened in front of my eyes.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then, simply:
“One day he’ll become King of Graycastle and lead us to defeat every enemy we face.” Her eyes were warm, her voice certain. “That is what I believe.”
Chapter 355: Miracles
Translator: Meh/TransN Editor: – –
The group of people stared at her, dumbfounded. After a long silence, the prince cleared his throat and asked, “Isn’t the red fog extremely toxic? There’s no way for us to approach it right?”
“It’s only toxic to witches. According to the Quest Society’s research, normal humans, plants and animals can all survive underneath the red fog. In addition, fire can speed up its rate of dispersion,” Agatha plainly replied.
“Weren’t you the one who said even normal people could fight the Devils? Well, prove it for me to see! The winged hybrids can be lured away by our flying witches,” She said as she pointed to Tilly, “The rest of the people can stand by waiting for us to rouse the devils and lead them into a trap. If what you said is true, taking this stronghold should be a piece of cake.”
Roland chuckled and shook his head, “I forgot to mention this earlier, this investigation trip was done via hot air balloon, not the flying witches you assumed — this kind of flying device can only carry a dozen people, I’m afraid there’s no way we can carry a whole troop of normal soldiers. In addition…” he paused, “This plan you came up with is highly susceptible to risk. We have no idea just how many devils are lurking around. Close quarters combat will result in casualties, not to mention the dangerous job of luring the Devilbeasts. I refuse to put my people in such danger.”
“How could anyone have a foolproof plan for fighting the devils?” Agatha fumed. “Every time the Blessed Army mobilized its people in the past, everyone went in with the expectation of a bitter battle to the death. As I thought, he’s delusional! In order to achieve an end goal, casualties are an eventuality. Only a naive rookie who’s never experienced the cruel reality of war would worry so much about every single individual life.”
Though extremely disappointed, she still controlled her feelings, managing to hide her doubts. In the afternoon, after attending his presentation of this socalled new weapon, everything will become clear.
Only now, Agatha no longer harbored any real expectations.
They were just a prince who’s only fought before on paper, a bunch of witches with support abilities, and finally some fragile and useless ordinary mortals. Even with the most powerful of weapons, how strong could they possibly be?
Perhaps from the moment the Union collapsed, humanity had already been destined for destruction.
“You often spoke of the Battle of Divine Will, why do you call it that? Isn’t it simply a war to repel the devil invasion,” Roland took a new piece of paper, raised his quill and asked.
That’s what everyone called it. The history books never recorded the initial reason for the war,” Agatha answered in a disheartened tone, “It’s not wrong to call it a war to repel the invasion, after all, the devils did only come to the Land of Dawn from the stone gates…”
“What stone gates?” Scroll couldn’t help but interrupt.
“The Gates of Hell that rose from the ground.” Agatha sighed. “On the eve of the Bloody Moon, the Gates of Hell shall open, engulfing the world we know. That’s what was written in the history books — either way, these damned stone gates would appear every few hundred years. The first horde of devils used them to come to the Land of Dawn and rabidly attempted to murder us all.”
“So the pattern of their invasions is also related to this?”
“They needed the red fog to survive, in order to leave the fog they had to depend on their own handheld reservoirs — the leather pouches, metal containers and demonic beast hide tanks. This is also the reason we were even able to have the second or third Battles of Divine Will. Only when the
stone gates appeared could the devils build their fog generating Obelisks, which were usually taller than even mountains and had a wide area of diffusion. A single one is enough to cover the entire Fertile Plains,” she explained slowly.
“If another Battle of Divine Will erupts, the devils will definitely construct an Obelisk in the middle of the plains to serve as their base. After it’s complete, they’ll use their fortresses at the boundaries of the fog to initiate their attack. This time, I’m afraid there’s nowhere left for humanity to run.”
“If that day comes, everyone can at least escape to Fjords to weather the storm.” Tilly shrugged her shoulders.
“Are you talking about those few islands in the middle of the Swirling Sea? How many people could a tiny land like that possibly sustain? It’s nothing but a place of desperation where one waits for their eventual demise,” Agatha snappily retorted.
“Alright, everyone cheer up a little, at least we now have a decent understanding of the devils we’re up against,” the Prince shrugged and said, “By the time the third Battle of Divine Will begins, we won’t be unprepared. Let’s call it a day here. Anything else we can discuss after lunch.”
…
Agatha finished her sumptuous lunch and followed Wendy back to her room.
Life in the wastelands was a lot more… luxurious than she imagined. Both the variety and taste were far superior to that of any feast in her memory. She thought that perhaps this was because she was born in an era of war; those days, be it in her own stone tower or at the fortress of the Union, food consisted solely of bread, jerky and vegetable soup. Yet here salt, butter, and honey were all plentiful, as well as some delicious spices she didn’t recognize. Even though she wanted to maintain her image, she nevertheless couldn’t help but devour an entire plate of fried mushrooms as well as two huge pieces of honeyed steak.
However, the more she ate, the angrier she became. She both loathed herself for succumbing to the temptation of delicious food, bringing shame upon Taquila, and loathed the Prince for being so short-sighted as to be wasting time savoring delicacies while the humanity walked towards its doom!
Thinking of this, she couldn’t help but harden her tone and say, “I’m already familiar with the castle halls now. You needn’t bother with the hassle of escorting me back from now on.”
“It’s not a hassle at all. I’m delighted to do these things… ” Wendy smiled. “Also, if you want to talk about anything, I’m always here. Bottling your feelings up in your heart will only make them fester.”
“Didn’t he say he was going to show us the new weapons in the afternoon? Why’d he leave all by himself after eating?”
“You mean Roland? This… is probably because he’s taking a nap,” Wendy covered her mouth and whispered, “That’s His Majesty’s habit, usually after lunch he’ll always sleep for at least an hour. His Majesty often says the body is the foundation of all efforts. Without enough rest, it’s impossible to fulfill the duties of a lord.”
“An afternoon nap! What kind of habit is this! A whole night isn’t enough for him!?” Agatha angrily thought, “This is obviously nothing but a lazy person making excuses, yet you actually wholeheartedly believe him!’
“Be it normal witches or Senior Awakened Witches… why is it that you all have such confidence in him?” she took a deep breath, “Is it just because he gave you a safe haven? Do you really believe that he can win against the devils – no, even against the Church that has been suppressing you all?”
“I can’t speak for the other sisters,” Wendy gently replied, “but I myself do believe in him. Because His Majesty is capable of making the things that no one else imagined, or even dared to imagine, happen. To me, he’s someone who’s made countless miracles happen.”
“Mira… cles?
“When witches everywhere were being hunted to death, he saved the Association; when everyone saw us as demons, he created a place where we could coexist in harmony; in a single short year, His Majesty has managed to use an army of peasants to fend off the Months of the Demons, and defeated Duke Ryan who had a territory several times of his; even the mad empowered army of Graycastle wasn’t able to take a single step past our border.”
“But these are merely the battles of mortals, compared with the war between God’s Punishment Army and the devils, they’re completely different.” Agatha shook her head.
“Of course it’s not just this,” Wendy continued, “His teachings and theories allowed four sisters to evolve their abilities, and has unceasingly created increasingly powerful weapons, which allow knights and even ordinary people to win against Extraordinaries… these are all miracles that I’ve personally witnessed, not just the wild rumors of a tavern, nor the bombastic descriptions of historical records — they happened right in front of my eyes.”
“One day he’ll become the King of Graycastle, and lead us to defeat any and all of our enemies.” Her eyes were filled with mirth yet her voice was full of confidence.
“That’s what I believe.”