The Primordial Witch Takes a Stroll Through the Royal Capital - The Ash-Crowned Blade Burns in the Market

The smell of smoke blanketed the sky over the royal capital of Artemis. Black smoke billowed up from the central plaza of the Silverstream Market, caught by the wind and stretching westward into the commercial district. The evening sky had been dyed the color of flame. Theresia sat on the rim of an old stone well at the edge of the market. Her brown hair, reaching down to her shoulders, swayed in the hot wind. Her large brown eyes gazed steadily at the burning market. "It's red." Her voice was quiet, dissolving into the clamor around her. "Yes. The fire has spread from the central plaza to the eastern edge of the commercial district. The evacuation is not yet complete." A man in a black coat stood half a step behind Theresia. His black hair was cropped short, and his jet-black eyes were deep, as if drinking in the light of the flames. His shadow fell unnaturally dark upon the twilight ground. Theresia did not take her eyes off the burning market. "Those children are still inside." Her fingertip pointed toward the north side of the market, beneath the eaves of a half-collapsed bakery. ―――― Not even half a day had passed since the attack. The incident in which the Apostles of the Ashen Crown had taken a child hostage and provoked Theresia. The band of Apostles had been annihilated with a single flick of Theresia's finger—but there had been survivors. And now, those survivors had set fire to the heart of the royal capital. The Silverstream Market was the most vibrant place in the royal capital of Artemis. The daily market drew the blacksmith Gald of the Iron Arm, the baker Martha, traveling fruit merchants, street performers, and citizens come to shop. In the daytime, it was always overflowing with people. That market was now engulfed in flames. Wooden stalls collapsed one after another, and the sweet smell of scorched fruit mingled with the acrid stench of burning cloth. Screams and shouts. The footsteps of fleeing people. The neighing of horses. Theresia watched it all from where she sat on the rim of the well. "Lorde, look at that smoke. It's shaped like a dragon." She pointed at the rising black smoke and laughed innocently. "Indeed. The wind has shifted, causing the smoke to form a vortex." Lorde's voice was as quiet and polite as ever. "How interesting. A fire is so beautiful." The color of the flames reflected in her eyes. Her brown irises glittered red and orange. ―――― On the west side of the market, in the back alley behind a blazing clothing shop. Shiera ran, kicking through piles of rubble, her white coat flapping in the hot wind of the flames. Her silver-white hair was stained with soot. Her gray eyes searched for the enemy beyond the smoke. "Where... where are the Apostles?" In her right hand was the holy sword Luminous. Its white blade, imbued with light-attribute magic, shone eerily in the firelight. (That man used a child as a shield. What does he intend to do now?) Shiera was remembering the band of Apostles who had appeared before Theresia. Fools who had taken a child hostage and provoked the Progenitor. They had been obliterated with a single flick of Theresia's finger—but among them, one man had survived. Cain. A senior officer of the Ashen Crown Apostles. The adjutant of Varkas, the leader who had survived the Ashen Crown Incident two hundred years ago. That man had now set the market ablaze and was using citizens who had failed to escape as shields. "Damn it... where is he?" Shiera leaped over the wreckage of a collapsed storefront. The moment she landed, a hot wind blew through from the right. That was when it happened. "—So the White Witch graces us with her presence." A low male voice echoed from beyond the smoke. Shiera stopped in her tracks. She raised Luminous and glared in the direction of the voice. The smoke parted for a moment, carried away by the wind. Standing there was a man in a dark brown coat. Around forty years of age. A thin frame, a scruffy beard, and—a black eyepatch covering his left eye. From beneath the eyepatch, old burn scars stretched down to his cheek. In the man's right hand was a boy. A dagger was pressed against the boy's throat. He looked about ten years old. His face was a mess of tears, and he trembled without making a sound. "Don't move. If you do, I'll slit this brat's throat." Cain's voice was terrifyingly calm. Shiera gritted her teeth. "Taking hostages—you're quite practiced at this." "Compared to you witches, it's a harmless little thing. We will use any means to kill a witch. Even if it means sacrificing one or two children." A twisted smile spread across Cain's lips. The blade of the dagger bit slightly into the boy's throat. A thin line of blood trickled down. "H-help me..." The boy's voice was hoarse, barely audible. "Let him go. Let that child go." "If I let him go, you'll kill me. Witches can't be killed by humans? Ah, I know it well. But witches can kill each other. You are the White Witch. Surely you have no hesitation about killing one of your own kind?" Shiera's grip tightened. (How much does this man know?) Cain continued. "Two hundred years ago, my grandfather killed your predecessor. The Ashen Crown Incident. At that time, we proved something—that while witches cannot be killed by humans, a spell formula created by humans might be able to kill a witch." Cain's left hand drew an old piece of parchment from inside his coat. "This is a copy of the formula used then. It's incomplete, of course. But even incomplete, it may be enough to kill you." Shiera's eyes fixed on the parchment. (That's... from two hundred years ago.) Memories from her childhood surfaced in her mind. ―――― Twenty years ago, when Shiera had only just awakened as a witch. Her predecessor, the White Witch Elmina. A quiet woman with silver-white hair that reached her waist. She had taught Shiera the sword, taught her magic, and—taught her the loneliness of being a witch. "Shiera, listen carefully. We are beings feared by humans. Even so, I will protect them. Because that is the path I have chosen." That day, Elmina had said that and smiled. Shiera still remembered that smile. But the following month, Elmina was attacked by remnants of the Ashen Crown Apostles. A witch who should have been unkillable by humans had somehow suffered a fatal wound. The ancient formula used in the Ashen Crown Incident. Its incomplete reproduction had brought Elmina down. Shiera hadn't made it in time. Clutching Elmina's hand as it grew cold, Shiera had screamed and wept. "Why... how can a human kill a witch..." Elmina's last words were these: "...Even so, protect them. If it is the path you have chosen, see it through to the end." ―――― "Shut up... shut uuuup!!" Shiera shouted as she lunged forward. Luminous sliced through the air. Cain's dagger pulled away from the boy's throat. He shoved the boy aside and thrust the parchment before Shiera's eyes instead. "Look, White Witch. This is the formula that killed your predecessor. As long as the Progenitor exists, any formula is nullified—but even so, we never gave up. Generation after generation, we kept searching for a way to kill witches." Shiera's blade tore through the parchment. But Cain laughed. "Useless. That was a copy. The original is already in Lord Varkas's hands." Cain's left hand clenched around something. The sign of a formula's activation. "Even an incomplete formula is enough to stop your movements. I'll show you the White Witch falling pathetically before the Progenitor." Shiera swung her sword down at Cain's left hand. But— In that instant, Shiera's vision burst into white. (What—) Her body wouldn't move. The hand gripping Luminous lost all sensation, as if numbed. (The formula... activated—?) Cain's formula was incomplete. Far from a perfect witch-killer. But even so, it was enough to seal Shiera's movements for a moment. "Got you." Cain's dagger thrust toward Shiera's abdomen. —But. The dagger never reached her body. A black shadow extending from the ground had coiled around Cain's arm. "—What!?" Cain's arm was constricted by the shadow. The dagger fell from his hand. The shadow bound Cain's entire body and slammed him to the ground. "My apologies, Lady Shiera. I was somewhat rough." At some point, Lorde had appeared at the entrance of the alley. His shadow pinned Cain's body down. "You... the Progenitor's familiar." "Lady Theresia has instructed me to quietly dispose of those who would harm her. However, for now, she wishes to watch. Therefore, I will not take your life at this time." Lorde's voice was cold as ice. Cain's face twisted with fear. "Damn it... let me go... let me gooo!!" Cain thrashed within the shadow. But the shadow did not budge. Shiera regripped Luminous with her numbed hand. "Lorde... why did you save me?" "I did not save you. I merely removed an obstacle to Lady Theresia's amusement." Lorde did not look at Shiera. His jet-black eyes gazed into the depths of the alley, beyond the flames. ―――― The royal castle, Grandrain Castle. The audience chamber. Ordis Rein sat upon the throne, listening to his younger brother's report. "Brother, the market fire is the work of the Ashen Crown Apostles. I have already dispatched the knights, but the flames are spreading to the commercial district." Vald Rein was Ordis's younger brother and the commander of the Loren Knights. He shared his brother's black hair, though his had not yet begun to gray. His well-trained frame was encased in armor, and a longsword hung at his hip. On his face, hatred for the witches who had killed their father the king twenty years ago always clung thinly. "Hurry the suppression of the Apostles. Station knights throughout the capital and prioritize the evacuation of the citizens." Ordis's voice maintained the dignity of a king. But his hand gripped the armrest of the throne tightly. "Understood. However, brother, there is one thing I wish to ask." Vald's voice dropped lower. "What is it?" "Are we mobilizing knights to protect the witches? To protect that so-called Progenitor?" The air in the audience chamber grew taut. Ordis looked into his brother's eyes. In those blue eyes, the flames of twenty years ago were reflected. "...Vald. I mobilize knights to protect the kingdom. Not for the witches. For the people." "For the people. Is that for the people of this kingdom that continues to depend on witches?" Vald's words were sharp. Ordis was silent for a while. (Vald still hasn't... about Father...) Twenty years ago, the previous king had been killed by a witch. That witch had not been Shiera. But merely being a witch was enough—Vald's hatred would not fade. "Vald, this is an order. I command the Loren Knights to suppress the Apostles throughout the capital. This is a royal decree." "...Understood." Vald bowed and left the audience chamber. But his back told the story plainly—that even as he obeyed the order, he was rebelling in his heart. Ordis settled deeper into the throne. (The loneliness of a king. The fragility of a kingdom dependent on witches. Can I not end either in my reign?) He closed his eyes. ―――― The flames in the market had grown even fiercer. The fire had spread to the adjacent commercial district, and refugees were surging toward the city walls. But the Loren Knights were slow to move. Vald had issued orders on-site to delay the knights' charge by two stages. "The first unit will prioritize sealing the west gate. The second unit will evacuate the residents of the commercial district. Do not enter the market until the third unit arrives." "But Commander! There are still people trapped in the market!" "It's an order. Move." The knights had no choice but to obey. But what did that delay mean? Vald himself knew better than anyone. (Mobilize knights to protect the witches? No. I will confirm with my own eyes the evidence that the witches are in le

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Episode 5

Name: The Primordial Witch Takes a Stroll Through the Royal Capital
Author: Novelia

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