CH676 · Rewrite
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Chapter 676: The Pursuit


Sometimes, when she had no appetite for training, she walked the deeper passages of the maze to stand before the magic core — Taquila’s highest hope, suspended in its cold light.

“The Instrument of Divine Retribution, fully repaired.” She studied the great spindle floating at the chamber’s center, the white rib-brackets feeding power into it from all sides. “Are you certain it’s functional?”

“Certain? I’ve spent three hundred and eighty-five years on it!” Celine descended from above, settling on her tentacles with palpable excitement. “The more I study it, the more I believe it was made by a god. Everything the Quest Society ever produced — the Sigil of Magic Stones, all of it — was refuse by comparison. Not even close to the true nature of magic power. Had we found this ruin four hundred years ago, there would never have been a second Battle of Divine Will.”

She patted Celine’s rough exterior. “Have you tested the other cores?”

“Of course. Pasha even used the phantom instrument to work a miracle for a kingdom of common people, very far away — you were still sleeping then. You missed it.”

“That far?”

“Much farther than any natural ability can reach. Even the Infinite Sigil can’t compare.” Celine trembled with it. “This is what the magic core does. It allows witches to exceed every limit they have. That common person who fell to their knees in shock — that was proof. The core should always have been our goal. Not the God’s Punishment Army.” She drew herself upright. “Long live Lady Natalia!”

“Without the God’s Punishment Army scheme, none of us would have survived long enough to find it.”

“Eh… Long live Lady Alice, too,” Celine said, with visible reluctance.

“I heard Pasha say the Chosen One is also required — that the instrument can’t activate without her. Is that true?”

Celine seized her hand with a tentacle. “The Chosen One — yes! This core is too vast, too complex. Without the Chosen One it’s inert. A dead thing, unable to become a new deity.” The grip tightened. “This is why everything depends on you. You must find her.”

“If she exists.”

The sarcoma went quiet. When Pasha spoke again her voice was heavier. “Yes. If she exists.” A pause. “Why can’t I be the Chosen One?”


“Starfall City has fallen! Defeated — by common people!”

The news reached the underground chambers like a tremor felt before it’s heard. Lava roiled. Every Sleeping One and every Waking One responded at once — tentacles lashing, bodies swaying, the only expression of great feeling available to them.

Not everyone celebrated.

“How is this possible?” Alethea’s agitation conveyed shock and fury in equal measure. “Beaten by common people?”

“Is the source reliable?” someone asked.

“I’ll have the Chamber of Commerce of Dawn investigate.” Pasha swept a tentacle through the air to quiet the chamber. “Behave yourselves — you’ll shake the walls down.”

She watched them and thought how remarkable it was, that she could still distinguish each one. The same massive forms, the same rough exteriors, the same slow language of tentacles — and yet she could read every one of them, by breathing frequency, by the particular quality of their movements, by everything accumulated in years of shared dark. They were as legible to her as faces.

Pasha submerged into the lava. “For Taquila.”

One by one the others followed. Voices, ragged with feeling: “For Taquila.”

The lava stilled.

“Once the news is confirmed,” Elena said, “I suggest we immediately retrieve the divine relic. Starfall City no longer deserves to hold it.”

“A confrontation with the God’s Punishment Army would be unavoidable,” Alethea said, “and they won’t be unprepared. Even if they lost to common people, that doesn’t make Hermes vulnerable. For all we know, those common people killed a few hundred soldiers and called it a decisive victory.”

Several voices expressed their agreement.

“Our other contacts will help clarify what actually happened,” Pasha said. “For now, the most important task remains the Chosen One. Banach Lothar has built the stage. It is time for the actors.” She paused. “If she can find the Chosen One on this journey — the demons will fall, and the witches will reach heights no one alive today can imagine.”


She walked to the ruin’s exit and stopped.

A great palace, half consumed by the earth. At its center: a shaft cut through stone all the way to the surface — a patio open to the sky, letting a column of white light fall ten meters down to the floor. It found her feet in its quiet pool of brightness.

Across from the shaft stood two tombstones.

Everything around them was worn, dusty, crumbling — but the tombstones were clean. No trace of grime, after all these years. Someone had swept them every day. Someone had planted beside each one a small, plain, white flower.

She knelt on one knee.

Whatever disagreements they’d carried in life — however fierce the debates between them, however bitterly contested the choices — it had all been in service of the same end: the survival of the witches. They had been placed together in death because they had never truly been separate in purpose.

Two of the Union’s Three Chiefs.

Alice, the unstoppable Queen of Starfall City.

Natalia, the dazzling Queen of Sunchaser.

“May the deities be with you.”

She rose and looked up at the column of light. “I’m ready. Send me up.”

A tentacle emerged from the dark and wound gently around her waist, lifting her upward. The shaft of sky widened as she rose — light expanding, brightening, until there was nothing left but white. She blinked against it, opened her eyes, and the world unfolded.

“I can only bring you this far.” Pasha’s voice drifted up from below. “This body can’t bear direct sun.”

“I know.” She bent and wrapped her arms around the tentacle — the closest thing to an embrace. “Wait for my good news.”

“One more thing. You can’t use your old name anymore. The Chamber of Commerce has prepared a new identity. They’ve already chosen a name.”

“What is it?”

“No. 76.”

She turned it over. Smiled.

“I like it.” She faced the open horizon. “I’ll be going, then. Take care.”

“You too.”

So, in pursuit of that last remaining hope, a new journey began.

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