Chapter 78.1

The Northern Divine Power (1)

Isabelle’s story, which began slowly, finally reached its conclusion.

“…The 50 witches, myself included, who barely survived, wandered the continent like stray dogs without a master.”

The old witch kept the smoking pipe in her mouth like a seasoned smoker.

“Then, by chance, we heard a rumor. They said that in the northern part of the continent, the influence of the Holy See and the Mage Tower had yet to reach.”

The audience chamber seemed to be shrouded in a light mist, with the smoke from the mana tobacco hanging in the air.

“At that time, the people of the North were desperate for both magic and divine power. But neither the mages of the Mage Tower nor the priests of the Holy See showed any interest in the barren North.”

The old witch, who had lived for many years, gazed up at the ceiling of the audience chamber.

There, a faint mural depicted the achievements of Rune Renslet.

“So I took the witches and led them north. We went north and further north, sometimes riding brooms, sometimes trudging on foot…”

Isabelle puffed on the mana tobacco as she told her story. Her eyes, glazed over like someone intoxicated, wandered in a daze.

“We heard that even black sorcerers, who were persecuted like us, were active in the North. At the very least, we figured we wouldn’t be driven away… that little sliver of hope kept us moving forward…”

Tears flowed down the eyes of the elderly witch, filled with regret, sadness, and longing.

“Eventually, we reached the northernmost roof of the continent — the northern region of the Empire. And it was there that we met Rune Renslet, the progenitor of our lady’s bloodline. I was 25 at the time, two years before the Grand Duchy of Renslet was established.”

The old witch’s nostalgic tale finally came to an end.

“And that… is how the witches and I ended up here in the North.”

Her gaze, which had been lost in the past, slowly returned to the present.

“Mana potion… is there any left?”

The first thing she said after coming back to reality was to ask for more mana potion.

“You must be running low on mana from all that talking. I figured this would happen, so I saved a little.”

Arad injected the remaining mana potion into Isabelle’s arm.

“Haahhh…”

With a groan reminiscent of a drug addict feeling relief, the old woman’s face grew more energized.

“Ahh… it’s so refreshing.”

Having recharged her mana, she now wore a contented expression.

“It feels like the lingering frustration in my chest is finally gone. I’ve never had the chance to tell anyone this story since I never took on a disciple.”

While other witches had taken on disciples in the North, Isabelle hadn’t done so for over 200 years.

It was likely because of the trauma caused by her master, Haran.

“Are you alright, old woman?”

Finally, Arina glanced at Isabelle’s complexion, her voice laced with concern.

“Of course, my lady. Sir Arad is truly… a savior, not only for you and the North but for me and the witches as well.”

For the first time, Isabelle’s gaze toward Arad was filled with warm affection.

“By the way, it’s not just me. The other witches should be in similar condition, right?”

“By now, they should be able to function in daily life. Mana potions are difficult to produce, but mana tobacco is much easier to make.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Well, now that you’ve had a break, shall we continue?”

As he spoke, Arad once again packed Isabelle’s pipe with mana tobacco, firmly pressing it into place.

“Are you referring to that existence? Yes, of course.”

Isabelle answered before anyone could even ask the question.

“Then, the witch seen all over the North, the one associated with the sound of bells, is…”

“Yes… it’s my master’s corpse. Her soul is gone, but the undead body remains, filled with nothing but the grudge and hatred she had in life. It pairs very well with the curse that’s eating away at us.”

Exhaling a thick cloud of smoke from both her mouth and nose, Isabelle continued.

“And it seems the black sorcerers of the Devil’s Den have made it even worse.”

“But why does the Imperial Church have it now when it should have been under the Holy See’s custody?”

“Because the first archbishop who founded the Imperial Church after rebelling against the Holy See… was Helena.”

“Ah…”

So the first archbishop of the Imperial Church had a different name. This was the first time I’d learned that.

Since both the Holy See and the Imperial Church are so secretive, even I, a long-time veteran of Era of Silver 1, didn’t know many details about their inner workings.

“Still, I’m surprised. I thought they would have burned it as soon as they had it.”

“Whether it’s the Imperial Church or the Holy See, the Inquisitors are notoriously cruel. In some ways, they’re far worse than the Devil’s Den. The fact that they had the Grand Witch’s body in their possession… the outcome was obvious.”

“And knowing all that, you still didn’t prepare for it?”

“This curse is something we knew about but couldn’t avoid,” Isabelle retorted.

“Besides… I never imagined they’d use it like this. I never thought the Church, of all groups — not the royal family, not the Mage Tower — would join hands with the Devil’s Den…”

Her eyes, filled with confusion and frustration, stared off as if she still couldn’t believe it.

“Is there a way to counter it? A way to stop the Plague and the Bell Witch?”

Arad referred to the undead Haran as the Bell Witch out of courtesy.

“Because of the curse, we witches can’t do anything about the Bell Witch.”

Isabelle seemed to like Arad’s choice of words, as she began using it too.

“Don’t worry about the Bell Witch and the black sorcerers. The knights of the North and I will take care of them.”

It was Arina who stepped in, speaking with firm resolve.

“No, my lady. You mustn’t.”

Isabelle shot her a sharp, cold look.

“Bu-But!”

“She’s right, Your Highness. You haven’t fully recovered your strength. Absolutely not.”

Balzac, who was standing nearby, joined Isabelle in admonishing Arina.

“…Alright.”

In the end, Arina had no choice but to back down.

Perhaps it was because of what had happened in the Abyss of the Demon Realm that she no longer recklessly threw herself into danger like before.

“Sending knights to fight the Bell Witch and black sorcerers… that could be dangerous, couldn’t it?”

Ignoring the disheartened Arina, Arad spoke up again. The thought of what had happened in the Abyss came to mind.

“Of course it’s dangerous. But this isn’t the first time we’ve fought them, so we’ll manage.”

“I’ll make a few magical tools that can help the knights deal with the mages.”

“If you do, I’ll be grateful.”

After exchanging words with Balzac, Arad turned his attention back to Isabelle.

“And, Lady Isabelle.”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Yes, Sir Arad?”

“Right now, the witches’ condition is weak, but with the mana tobacco, they should at least be able to perform one or two spells, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“This Black Sorcery Plague… I’ve done my own research. It’s basically just a plague combined with black sorcery.”

“Are you asking us witches to handle it?”

“Yes.”