Chapter 392: Determination
Roland stared. “Using dead—”
“No.” Agatha cut him off. “Just as with demon blood, the flesh must be taken from a living witch.”
Behind him, Nightingale drew a sharp breath.
“This was the Quest Society’s most closely guarded secret. Not long after the experiments began, I was sealed inside the Taquila stone tower. What I knew was this: they used the blood of weak and elderly witches, mixed it with God’s Stone of Retaliation, and injected the result into mortal bodies to force a transformation.” Agatha’s tone did not waver, but it had taken on a particular quality—the flatness of someone recounting catastrophe from a safe distance. “Based on the notebook you found, the research ultimately succeeded.”
“How much blood was needed?”
“More than half.” Roland felt the weight of it. “The blood had to come from a single donor—blending blood from different witches caused their magical energies to conflict, sharply reducing potency.” She paused. “You’ve likely already drawn the conclusion. One witch died per experiment, and the mortals who received the injection could barely survive the weakened magic’s erosion of their bodies. In the beginning, no one survived at all. A large faction within the Society objected—they believed mortals could never gain magical power. Only Alice’s insistence kept the program alive.”
“But the Church now has a God’s Punishment Army in the thousands.” Roland’s frown had gone rigid. “Tilly’s intelligence puts the count at five hundred to a thousand warriors.”
“If the notebook’s ‘success’ means raising the transformation rate to ten percent, at least half the witches involved died. I don’t believe even the Church could gather enough elderly witches to produce that number—unless the rate improved far beyond what the Society managed.”
“The Church arrested witches, raised them, drained their blood, and built an army of extraordinary warriors from the remains.” Roland felt the hand on his shoulder tighten. “And all the while, they were branding those women as Fallen and feeding that reputation to the public. An organization that does this must be destroyed—regardless of whatever intentions it began with.”
He made himself say it clearly. “I will stop them.”
After Agatha left, Nightingale dropped her Mist and stepped into the room. Her jaw was set, her eyes bright with a cold anger.
“I didn’t expect that’s how they made the God’s Punishment Army.” The words came out rough-edged. “If the Church truly descended from the Union, their leader must have been a lunatic.”
“Yes.” He exhaled. “Now the adoption policy makes sense—female orphans, abandoned infants, taken in by monasteries all across the kingdom. Not charity. Inventory. And slandering witches as Devil’s servants provided the moral cover to treat them any way they pleased.”
Nightingale was silent. Her face said everything she didn’t.
He looked at her and felt the old worry surface. “You’re not thinking of—”
“Picking a fight with the Church alone?” She shook her head. “I’m not that foolish. If they could be overturned by one witch, someone would have done it already.”
Some tension went out of him.
“Even so, the Church’s God’s Punishment Warriors won’t be easy opponents—especially if some of the witches they raised became Extraordinaries and are now fighting on their side. When we go to war with the Church, the only reliable strategy is to advance behind the First Army’s guns, step by step. Whatever the enemy is, whatever powers they carry, they are no different in front of bullets.” He paused. “I said that in the new world, witches will live without fear or restriction, the same as anyone else.”
“I know.” Nightingale leaned forward and pressed her forehead lightly against his. “I’m sure you’ll do it.”
Wendy sent Paper back to the witches’ building and returned to the castle in good spirits.
Her days had taken on a fullness she hadn’t expected. Her previous life in the Witch Cooperation Association had been comfortable enough, but there had always been something absent—a hollow in the daily routine she’d learned to ignore. Now there was Paper, obedient and wide-eyed, trailing after her with barely concealed admiration. And with winter here, the season when witches awakened most frequently, there would likely be more girls coming in the months ahead. More children to look after.
She was humming the melody Roland often played when she pushed open her bedroom door and stopped cold.
Nightingale was at the writing table, reading the Natural Science Theoretical Foundation.
Wendy blinked. Had she quarreled with Roland?
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat. “I’m back.”
Nightingale nodded. She did not look up. In profile, her expression was shuttered, brooding.
She’s definitely had a fight with him.
Wendy stepped forward and set a hand on Nightingale’s shoulder. “This is how love goes sometimes. The quarrel feels large right now, but sleep on it and by morning it won’t seem like anything serious.”
“What are you talking about?” Nightingale frowned.
“You and His Highness. Whatever you argued about—it’s temporary. Don’t take it to heart.”
“Why would I quarrel with him?” Nightingale looked at her with genuine incomprehension.
“You didn’t?” Wendy hesitated. “Then why are you reading all of a sudden?”
Nightingale sighed, and told her everything Agatha had revealed: the God’s Punishment experiments, the witches bled dry in the Holy City, the manufactured righteousness of the Church’s condemnation. “I want to become stronger,” she said when she finished. “So I can be more useful when the time comes to bring them down.”
“I see.” Wendy was quiet for a moment. Then, solemnly: “I didn’t realize that’s what the monasteries were built for. If Ashes hadn’t awakened as an Extraordinary when she did—if she hadn’t drawn every guard’s attention at once—I would have been among those corpses.”
She let that sit. Then she turned it inward.
Nightingale is right. The castle is comfortable. I’ve let my guard down.
The threats hadn’t disappeared—Church and demons, both still out there, both still coming. And she hadn’t meaningfully improved since her days with the Witch Cooperation Association. Her magic power grew slowly, yes, but her wind-shaping and combat instincts were where she’d left them. Evolution remained entirely out of reach. Meanwhile Mystery Moon, Hummingbird, and Echo were studying with visible hunger. She was a senior, and she couldn’t even light two stones on the Sigil of God’s Will.
“You’re right. I need to apply myself as well.” Wendy took a breath. From tonight, two hours before bed. Every night. She would start with the Natural Science text and work forward.
She washed quickly, came back to the room—and found Nightingale with her head down on the desk, asleep over the open book.
Wendy stood in the doorway looking at her for a moment. Then she found a blanket and draped it over her shoulders, careful not to wake her.
Chapter 392: Determination
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Roland widened his eyes and said, “Using dead…”
“No.” Agatha interrupted him. “Just as with demons’ blood, the flesh should be taken from a living witch.”
He heard Nightingale gasp behind him.
“This was the most important secret of the Quest Society. Not long after the experiment began, I left the stone tower of the Holy City. The only thing I knew about the experiment was that it used the blood of weak and old witches, mixed it with God’s Stone of Retaliation, and injected it into the bodies of mortals to make mortal’s body change.” Agatha’s tone was a bit grave. “Judging from the notebook you found, this research must have succeeded.”
“How much blood was needed?”
“More than half.” Agatha’s answer saddened Roland. “The blood must come from the same person, otherwise the magic powers contained in it would reject each other and their effectiveness would greatly decrease.” She paused. “You guessed correctly. A witch died for every experiment, and mortals could barely survive the erosion of the weakened magic blood. In the beginning, no one could survive. A great number of society members objected to it because they believed that mortals could never gain magic power. If not for the insistence of Chief Alice, this plan might not have been carried out fully.”
“But now the church has a huge God’s Punishment Army… According to Tilly’s information, there may be 500 to 1,000 God’s Punishment Warriors,” Roland said, frowning.
“Suppose the success recorded in the notebook refers to the increase of the transformation rate to 10%, it means that at least half of the witches had been killed. I don’t think those people could gather such a large number of old witches.”
“The church arrested and raised witches so that they could drain their blood and create powerful extraordinary warriors?” Roland felt the hand on his shoulder clench involuntarily. “Damn it. Hundreds of witches with all kinds of magic powers died in the Holy City of Hermes for no reason, and they were branded as the Fallen and were loathed by the public. Such an ignorant organization must be destroyed, even if its original intention was to fight against the demons.”
“Rest assured. I’ll stop them,” Roland said word by word.
After Agatha left, Nightingale shut off her Mist and appeared in front of him. She gritted her teeth and said, “I didn’t expect that was how God’s Punishment Army was produced! If the Church really came from the Union, their chief must be a lunatic! ”
“Indeed.” He sighed. “Now it makes sense why the church has been adopting female orphans and abandoned babies everywhere—they were only collecting materials for creating a huge army. Perhaps slandering the witches as Devil’s minions was also part of their plan, in order to justify their treatment of witches.”
“…” Nightingale did not respond, but her face was full of anger.
Roland slightly worried about her. Holding her hand, he said, “You don’t intend to…”
“Pick a fight with the church by myself?” She shook her head. “I’m not that silly. If they were so fragile that they could be overturned by a witch, someone else would have done it long ago.”
The prince felt a little relieved. “The ultimate goal of creating the God’s Punishment Army is to strengthen the church. If there’re extraordinary ones among the witches the church raised, they won’t have to give blood… Even
escaping into the Mist won’t guarantee safety when facing witches loyal to the church. When we wage a war against the church, the safest strategy is to push forward step by step following the firearms of the First Army. Whatever the enemies are, they are no different in front of bullets.” He paused. “I’ve said that in the new world, witches will be able to live a normal life without restrictions, just like ordinary people do.”
“Hmm.” Nightingale whispered, putting her forehead on Roland’s head. “I’m sure you can do it all.”
Wendy sent Paper back to the witches’ building and happily returned to the Lord’s castle.
Recently, she felt her days were very fulfilling. Although her previous life was quite comfortable, she’d always felt something missing. Now, with this little girl who was well-behaved and full of admiration for her, she believed there was nothing more pleasing than this.
“Winter has come. This is when the witches’ awakenings happen the most. In the following months, there might be more new witches joining the Witch Union, so there’ll be more kids for me to take care of.” This thought excited Wendy very much.
She gently hummed the song she heard from His Highness. But when she pushed open her bedroom door, what she saw startled her.
God, what do I see? Nightingale sits in front of the book table, reading the Natural Science Theoretical Foundation!
Did she fight with His Highness Roland?”
“Ahem.” Wendy coughed twice. “I’m back.”
Nightingale nodded, giving no response. From the side, her face seemed very upset and sad.
She must have guessed correctly.
Wendy stepped forward, patted Nightingale’s shoulder, and softly comforted her. “This is love. You sometimes quarrel, but when you think about it, it’s nothing serious. Sleep on it and you’ll feel better afterwards.”
“What are you talking about?” Nightingale frowned.
“You and His Highness… Fighting is only temporary, so don’t take it seriously.”
“Why would I quarrel with him?” She said, touching her forehead.
“Uh… you didn’t?” Wendy paused. “Then why are you reading all of a sudden?”
Nightingale sighed and told Wendy about the Experiment of God’s Punishment that Agatha had revealed to her. “I just feel I need to become stronger to help more in future battles to overthrow the church.”
“I see.” Upon hearing what Nightingale said, Wendy solemnly nodded. “I didn’t expect that the church built monasteries to obtain witches’ blood… If it weren’t for Ashes, who had suddenly awakened as an Extraordinary and drew all the guards’ attention, I’m afraid I would have been among the other corpses in the church.”
“Nightingale is right. Perhaps the environment in the castle is so relaxing that I’ve let my guard down.” Wendy suddenly realized that the enemies were very close. Be it from the church or demons, their threats weren’t completely eliminated, yet she hadn’t improved for a long time. Although her magic power was slowly increasing, her fighting skills and ability to create wind weren’t so different from the time when she was in the Witch Cooperation Association, and evolution was totally out of the question.
Sisters such as Mystery Moon, Hummingbird and Echo were studying very hard. Compared to them, she seemed to be slacking off. As an older predecessor, she couldn’t even light two Magic Stones on the Sigil of God’s Will. If this continued, she would feel like an unworthy elder to the other witches.
“You’re right. I need to study hard as well.” Wendy took a deep breath. She decided that from that day on, she would spend two hours every night before bed learning the knowledge from His Highness.
She went to the bathroom to have a quick wash, returned to the room, and found Nightingale lying on the desk, asleep.