Chapter 688: Arrival at the Western Region
After nearly half a month at sea, the ship finally reached the Western Region.
North of Willow Town, the wind sharpened considerably. Lying in the cabin below deck, No. 76 could hear the sails snapping against the masts overhead.
“It’s snowing outside!”
Amy ran in, cupping a small handful of snow between her palms, but by the time she thrust it out for No. 76 to see, it had already melted into glittering drops that fell through her fingers. “Everything out there is white. I’ve never seen snow this heavy.”
No. 76 pushed herself upright in her bunk. “Really? Snow isn’t common in the City of Glow.” She kept her voice easy, her movements effortful and slow—the performance of a healing body.
Though it wasn’t uncommon in Taquila, she thought. Every Months of Demons, we cleared it again and again. Tiresome work. But the demons pulled back during those white weeks, and somehow that made the snow beautiful.
Amy’s smile reached her eyes, their corners crinkling upward. “I know, the City of Glow is warm all year round. Do you want to come up to the deck? I can carry you.”
“Stop it,” Broken Sword said from the corner, where she was tending a pot of medicinal herbs. “Her wounds haven’t closed. She can’t take cold wind.”
“Oh—sorry.” Amy’s smile dimmed.
“It’s fine.” No. 76 shook her head. “We’ll watch the snow together when I recover. His Majesty’s city is further west than this. There will be more to see there.”
Both witches by her bed looked briefly sad. Amy pushed the sadness away and nodded with great vigor. “I promise.”
No. 76 was not surprised by the sadness. In a God’s Punishment Warrior’s body, superficial wounds would have closed in three or four days. She had prevented that herself—smashing her own thighbones and elbow to ensure this body did not heal at its natural speed. She had made them believe she was lucky to have survived at all, that without a healing witch in the Western Region she might spend the rest of her life crippled and in pain.
They didn’t know what the body actually was. They didn’t know she could exchange it for another one the moment she returned to the underground maze.
The story had worked exactly as intended. Annie felt guilty every time she looked at her. The other witches had extended trust and gratitude in degrees No. 76 hadn’t fully anticipated. Amy especially—since the escape from the Black Money together, this girl had fastened herself to No. 76’s side, following her almost everywhere. Every night she came to the bunk and talked softly, telling folktales until she drifted to sleep herself, usually before No. 76 did.
No. 76 did not sleep. She lay in the dark and listened.
She needed the witches’ trust. With trust came access—to the Witch Union, to the wider community of witches in Neverwinter—and somewhere in that wider community might be the one she was looking for.
Broken Sword crossed to the bunk with an earthen jar. “Time to change the dressing. You may feel some pain. Close your eyes if you need to.”
“Don’t worry. You can start.” No. 76 kept her eyes open. She had no sensation in this body—if she looked away, she would have no way to know when Broken Sword actually began.
The herbal paste from the jar looked like dark mud. She read from Amy’s and Broken Sword’s expressions that it smelled accordingly.
Applying it in a small, enclosed cabin was unpleasant work for the witches, but they did it without complaint.
When the treatment was done, No. 76 lay back against the bunk and let herself appear to be catching her breath. She had already quickened her heartbeat, elevated her body temperature, forced a light sweat—the physiological signatures of pain endured. Her hands trembled at precisely the right frequency.
None of it was real. She performed it the way a theater company performs a scene: accurately, for the sake of the audience.
“Thank you,” she said, after a long moment.
Amy took a cloth and dabbed the sweat from No. 76’s forehead. “No—don’t say that. We’re the ones who owe you. We’re the ones who should be thanking you.”
Broken Sword agreed. “Amy’s right. Rest. When we reach Neverwinter, everything will be different.”
When they left, No. 76 reached beneath her collar and touched the magic stone ring she kept hidden there. She held it lightly.
Only when we find the Chosen One will everything truly be all right.
If they failed to defeat the demons, everyone died. Witch, common person, noble, slave—the Battle of Divine Will did not negotiate.
And yet, after everything the Union had studied, after everything discovered in the maze ruins, they still did not know whether the Chosen One existed.
According to the documents they had recovered, magic power was a gift bestowed on certain people by the deities. Every witch who possessed it held a Key—a means of unlocking the Source of Magic Power. That was why only some could use it at all. And each Key was different.
Some witches could summon storms or restore the dead to life. Others could warm a bowl of oatmeal or mend torn cloth. What caused such vast differences?
That question had baffled the Union for centuries, until the remaining witches had found their answer in the maze ruins. The differences in power and ability traced back to differences between the Keys themselves.
A Key had nothing to do with raw magic capacity but everything to do with the essence of how a witch’s power functioned. Every time a witch used her ability, she was translating magic power into reality—a process too complex for any witch to complete alone. The deities participated. But the deities favored some witches over others, and as a consequence the Keys varied enormously in complexity. A Key’s complexity determined the ceiling of how much power a witch could access.
No. 76 had not fully understood this until Pasha had offered her an example: Magic Stones. A witch could use them to produce various effects without any change in her own Magic Cyclone. That meant the magic power channeled through witches of wildly different abilities was fundamentally the same substance. Whether Extraordinary or ordinary Senior Witch, the power was the same thing.
If that was true, then a sufficiently sophisticated Magic Stone—one omniscient enough to realize any effect—might be enough to match the demons. A magic core worked on exactly this principle. It mimicked the functioning of a Magic Cyclone, reaching directly to the deities for power. Compared to a Sigil, which merely amplified a witch’s existing power, a magic core was something of a different order entirely. But experiments confirmed that the deities would never grant a Key to a lifeless object. Only a witch who already possessed a matching Key could activate one.
That witch was the Chosen One.
Chapter 688: Arrival at the Western Region
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
…
After nearly half a month, the ship finally reached the Western Region.
The north wind became much stronger after they sailed past Willow Town. Lying in the cabin of the ship, No. 76 could still hear the sound of the sail fluttering in the strong wind.
“It’s snowing outside!”
Amy excitedly ran into the cabin with some snow in her cupped hands, but before she showed it to No. 76, it had melted into shimmering water drops and dripped through her fingers. “Everything outside is white. I’ve never seen such a big snow.”
No. 76 struggled to sit up in her soft bed and said, “really? It seldom snows in the City of Glow in the Kingdom of Dawn.”
Meanwhile, she thought to herself, “but it wasn’t a rare thing for Taquila. Every year in Months of Demons, we needed to clean up the snow repeatedly, which was pretty tiresome; but fortunately, the demons would postpone their attack during this period of time, making this white scenery more adorable.”
Amy said with a big smile, her eyes in the shape of a crescent moon, “I know. The city of Glow is warm as spring all the year round. Do you want to go to the deck to have a look? I can carry you out.”
“Stop it. Her wounds haven’t recovered yet. She can’t stand cold winds,” Broken Sword interrupted, who was decocting some medicinal herbs aside.
“Oh… sorry.”
No. 76 shook her head and said, “it’s fine. What about enjoying the snow together when I recover? His Majesty’s city is more on the west side than here. We are going to see more beautiful snow scenes there.”
Hearing this, the two witches by her bed looked sad, but Amy quickly dispelled her sadness and nodded to No. 76 vigorously. “No problem. I promise.”
No. 76 was not surprised seeing them feel sad for her. As she had a God’s Punishment Warrior’s body, all the superficial wounds she got would heal in three or four days. In order to cover up her identity, she had smashed her own thighbones and elbow to prevent this body from having a perfect recovery. By doing so, she made the others believe that it was lucky enough for her to survive. They all thought that if she failed to meet a witch who could heal her in the Western Region, she would not be able to move around by herself and spend the rest of her life suffering from physical disability and mental distress.
They had no idea that this body was merely a tool to complete a mission for No. 76, and as soon as she went back to her underground maze , she would get a new one. Facts proved that the story she had made up was very convincing. She could tell from Annie’s eyes and actions that she felt guilty seeing her seriously injured, and the other witches all showed trust and gratitude to her, especially Amy. Since they had escaped from the “Black Money” together, this little girl had taken her as a companion and almost followed her everywhere. Every night, she would come to No. 76 and coax her to sleep by telling her folktales in a soft voice.
However, every time this little girl would fall asleep before No. 76 did.
No. 76 was satisfied seeing this result, as she needed the witches’ trust. In this way, she would get to know more witches and find out the Chosen One, which was the mission Pasha had given her.
Broken Sword walked to her bed with an earthen jar in her hands, saying, “time to change your wound dressing. You may feel a little pain, so it’s better
to close your eyes.”
“Don’t worry. I can take it. You can start now.” No. 76 pretended to be suffering from a great pain by clenching her teeth, but in order to react properly, she did not close her eyes. As she had no feelings, if she did not look at it, she would never know whether Broken Sword began to dress her wound or not.
The herbal medicine out of the jar looked like sticky mud. From the looks on the faces of Amy and Broken Sword, she knew it must smell bad.
Applying the stuff all over her wounds in such a tightly enclosed small cabin was not an easy task for the witches.
After the treatment was finally done, No. 76 heaved a sigh of relief and lay back in her bed, sweating.
She had quickened her heartbeat to raise her body temperature and speed her blood flow, making herself break into a sweat. Together with her trembling limbs and facial expressions of pain, she made everyone believe that she was suffering.
She did not care at all whether this common people’s remedy would work for her wounds or not.
After a long while, she said, “thank you.”
Amy picked up a towel to wipe the sweat on her forehead, saying, “no, don’t say that. This is what we owe you. We are the ones who should say thank you.”
Broken Sword added, “Amy is right. Have a good rest. When we arrive at Neverwinter, everything will be all right.”
When they left, No. 76 touched the magic stone ring on her chest, which she had hid under her clothes, and slightly sighed, lost in thoughts.
Only when we find the the Chosen One, everything will really be all right.
If we fail to defeat demons, all of us will die. No one can escape from the predestined war, the upcoming Battle of Divine Will.
However, until now we still have no idea whether the Chosen One exists or not.
In accordance with the descriptions in the remaining documents in the maze ruins, magic power was a gift bestowed on uncommon people by the deities. Everyone who could use it must have a Key to unlock the Source of Magic Power. That was why only a few could use this prevailing power.
More importantly, each Key was different.
Some witches were extremely powerful, who could summon strong storms or make the dead come back to life, but some were only able to use their power to cook a bowl of oatmeal or mend broken clothes.
What caused such great differences among the Awakened?
This question had baffled the Union for hundreds of years until the remaining witches of the Union had found the documents in the maze ruins. By studying those records, they had found a vague explanation for this phenomenon.
The differences in the witches’ abilities and power were caused by the differences between their Keys.
A Key had nothing to do with a witch’s magic capacity but was closely related to the essence of the magic power. Every time a witch used her ability, she would turn part of the magic power into reality. As this was an extremely complicated process which could not be completed by the witch alone. The deities would also take part in it.
However, as the deities had a preference for some witches, the Keys varied in terms of how complex the processes were. Some were very simple, but some were exceptionally complicated. A Key’s complexity determined the upper limit of the amount of magic power a witch could use.
No. 76 had not quite understood this explanation until Pasha had given her an example, the Magic Stones. A witch could use them to realize various magic effects without any change in her own Magic Cyclone. That meant the magic power used by different witches who had various abilities was actually the same thing. No matter she was an Extraordinary or a Senior Witches, she used the same power.
If that was the case, would it be possible that witches had a chance to prevail demons when there was an omniscient Magic Stone that could enable witches to realize any effect they wanted?
A magic core worked just like this. It mimicked the workings of a Magic Cyclone, trying to ask for power from the deities directly. In some sense, it could be considered as an extremely powerful man-made Magic Stone, way stronger than the Sigils, simple and crude toys as compared to a magic core, which could only increase a witch’s power. However, experiment results showed that deities would never give a Key to a lifeless thing. Only a witch who had a matching Key could activate this thing.
Such a witch was the Chosen One.