The Primordial Witch Takes a Stroll Through the Royal Capital - The White Witch's Resolve

The corridors of the royal castle, Grand Rein, lay wrapped in the cold hush of night. The flames of the wall-mounted candelabras cast long shadows across the stone floor. Through those shadows, a white coat swayed as its wearer walked on. Shiera listened to the sound of her own blood dripping as she moved. With every step, the wound in her left side pulsed. From the gash on her right shoulder, still-warm blood traced down her arm and fell from her fingertips to the floor. Her silver-white hair, fouled with the smoke and flames of the Silverstream Market, clung to her cheeks, matted with sweat and blood. But she did not stop. Her gray eyes fixed on the far end of the corridor—on the heavy double doors. The audience chamber. Where King Ordis waited. How much time had passed since she'd shaken off the knights' encirclement? By feel, it seemed she'd been walking for nearly half a day. In truth, it had likely been only a few dozen minutes. (I have to report.) Shiera bit down on her parched lip. (The Apostles of the Ashen Crown have infiltrated close to the castle. I have to warn the King.) Her footsteps echoed through the stone corridor. The smell of blood dissolved into the cold air. The guard soldiers gasped at the sight of her. "Lady Shiera...!?" "Out of my way. I have business with the King." Shiera brushed past the guards' attempts to stop her and pushed the doors of the audience chamber open herself. With a heavy creak, the doors swung wide. A vast space opened before her. The ceiling soared high, and portraits of kings past lined the walls. The floor was polished black marble. Beyond, at the top of several broad steps, sat the throne. Ordis Rein was seated upon it. His short black hair had begun to mix with white. His sharp blue eyes caught sight of Shiera. On his left hand, the heavy ring that was the signet of the King. His right hand rested beneath the armrest—near a dagger for self-defense, positioned so he could draw it at any moment. "...Lady Shiera." The King's voice was quiet. But his eyes were fixed on the color of blood soaked into every inch of her. "I report. The Apostles of the Ashen Crown set fire to the Silverstream Market. The mastermind is Cain. One of their executives. At present, at least twenty or more Apostles may be hiding within the royal capital." Shiera stepped forward. Blood dripped onto the black marble floor. "Cain took a child hostage. He tried to eliminate me. But the Apostles' true aim is not me." "And what is their true aim?" "The Progenitor, Theresia. And the royal authority of this kingdom itself." Shiera's voice was hoarse. Her breathing was shallow. The pain from her wounds was deepening. King Ordis was silent for a while. His blue eyes slowly observed Shiera's blood-soaked form from head to toe. Her white coat was stained so red-black it could no longer be called white. The wound in her left side was deep, and the gash on her right shoulder appeared to reach the bone. And yet, Shiera stood. Meeting the King's gaze, her spine straight. "...I want to believe you." The King's voice wavered, just slightly. "But my father was killed by a witch twenty years ago. Before my eyes. In this very castle. That memory will not leave my heart, no matter how I try." Ordis gripped the armrest of the throne until his knuckles went white. "I know that you are the only witch who stands on the side of humanity. I know you have fought to protect this country. But... even so, somewhere in my heart, I fear you." Shiera said nothing. She simply received the King's words with her gray eyes. (He fears me. I knew it. Humans fear witches. No matter how much I fight for them, a witch is a witch.) "...King. You do not need to trust me." Shiera spoke quietly. "I will protect this royal capital in accordance with the Guardian Contract. That is all. My personal feelings and your trust are irrelevant. As the White Witch, I will be this country's shield." There was not a trace of hesitation in her voice. King Ordis exhaled deeply. "...Understood. I entrust the defense of the castle to you. I will issue a decree to the knights to follow your orders." "I accept, with gratitude." Shiera bowed deeply. In that instant, the doors of the audience chamber were thrown open with a crash. Bang! "Brother!!" A low, fury-filled voice rang through the great hall. The man who appeared wore armor. His black hair, the same as King Ordis's, was cropped short, and his sharp eyes glared across the hall. A longsword hung at his hip, and behind him followed more than a dozen knights. Commander of the Loren Knights, Vald Rein. The King's younger brother, the man charged with the defense of the royal capital. "Brother, hear me! This witch is the very one who brought chaos to the capital! The market fire, the appearance of the Apostles—all of it happened because this woman consorts with the Progenitor!" Vald pointed at Shiera as he shouted toward the throne. "Vald, stand down. Now is not the time for such talk." "Stand down!? You would have knights die to protect a witch, Brother!? This woman is a witch! She is kin to the monsters who see us humans as nothing but playthings!" Vald's voice trembled with hatred. His eyes were sharp enough to pierce Shiera through. "Vald, you go too far. Lady Shiera is the guardian of this country. She has no connection to what happened to Father." "No connection!? She is a witch—that alone is connection enough! It was a witch who killed Father twenty years ago! This woman will betray us too, one day! Witches are all the same!" Vald's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. "Brother, detain this woman. Now. And drive the witch from the castle. If you do not, the capital will burn in witch-fire!" King Ordis's face twisted slightly at his brother's fury. "...Vald, will you not obey my command? I have entrusted the defense of the castle to Lady Shiera. The knights will follow her orders." "I cannot obey! You are being corrupted by the witch, Brother! If we listen to this woman, the kingdom will fall!" Vald stepped forward. Behind him, the knights reached for their swords. "Vald, one more step and I will consider it treason." The King's voice rang low. But Vald did not stop. "Treason!? The traitor is you, Brother, for siding with the witch! Knights, forward! Detain the witch Shiera!" At Vald's command, the knights moved. Swords were drawn. The sound of metal scraping rang sharply through the audience chamber. Shiera quietly raised Luminous. The white blade, imbued with light-attribute mana, reflected the candlelight and shone coldly. "...Protecting the King. That is my duty. Even if my opponent is the Knights Order." Shiera's voice was cold as ice. In that moment, deep beneath the royal castle, something stirred. ―――― Beneath the castle. An old stone passageway, whose very existence was unknown to the public, stretched into the darkness. Damp air seeped into the walls. At the far end of that passage, in the deepest part of the third underground level, stood an ancient altar. The altar was made of black stone, its surface carved with countless magical glyphs. Those glyphs now emitted a faint red glow. "...Here it is. The ritual site our ancestors prepared two hundred years ago to kill the witch." The leader of the Apostles of the Ashen Crown, Valkas, stood before the altar. His gaunt frame was wrapped in a black robe, and from beneath the deeply pulled hood, glittering eyes stared at the altar. In his hand was a single sheet of parchment. A copy of the spell formula Cain had left behind. The very Cain who had been obliterated in the market by a single fingertip of Theresia—he had risked his life to bring this back. "Our ancestors tried to kill the witch at this altar. But they failed. Witches cannot be killed by human hands. That is the unreasonable law of this world." Valkas placed the parchment at the center of the altar. "But tonight, I will overturn that law. This formula, at the cost of the caster's life, unleashes the power to kill a witch. The grand ritual our ancestors could not complete—I will complete it." Valkas drew a dagger from within his robe. "Tonight, I end the history of humanity ruled by witches. Here, I fulfill the two-hundred-year yearning of we Apostles of the Ashen Crown." Valkas slashed open the palm of his left hand with the dagger. Blood dripped onto the parchment atop the altar. Instantly, the magical glyphs carved into the altar began to emit red light all at once. "Progenitor Theresia. No matter how much power you hold, this formula will annihilate the very existence of witches. To kill a witch by human hands. That is our revenge." Valkas's voice echoed through the underground passage. Red light poured from the altar. The light crawled along the floor, climbed the walls, pierced the ceiling, and enveloped the entire royal castle. ―――― The audience chamber. Shiera felt the anomaly through her skin. The floor trembled faintly beneath her feet. The air was heavy, and hot. "...What is this mana?" Shiera raised her head. Red light was leaking through from beyond the ceiling. "Brother! What in the world is this!?" Vald, too, noticed the anomaly and shouted with his sword still raised. "...It's coming from below. This mana is coming from underground." Shiera regripped Luminous. "King, there are Apostles below. This mana is proof that some great ritual has been activated. I'm going down." With that, Shiera broke into a run without waiting for the King's reply. Her body drenched in blood, ignoring the pain of her wounds. "Wait! Witch! You won't escape!" Vald moved to pursue. "Vald! Now is the time to face the enemy together! The castle is in danger!" The King's shout rang through the hall. Vald stopped for a moment. "...Damn it! Knights, guard the King! Seal off the passage to the underground!" Vald clicked his tongue in frustration and issued orders to the knights. ―――― Shiera raced down the stairs leading underground. The torches on the walls flickered eerily in the red light. Her footsteps echoed through the narrow stairwell. Blood flowed from her wounds, leaving red stains on the steps. (The Apostles are doing something underground. That mana isn't just any ritual.) Shiera gritted her teeth and suppressed the unease swirling in her chest. (Don't tell me they intend to use that altar. The one from two hundred years ago, meant to kill a witch.) Midway down the stairs, the floor shook violently. Shiera braced herself against the wall. Fragments of stone rained down from the ceiling. "...It's collapsing. I have to hurry." Shiera quickened her pace further. Step by step, she descended as if leaping down the stairs. Her lungs burned. Her wounds screamed. And yet, her feet did not stop. The third underground level. The door to the altar chamber appeared before her. Red light leaked through the gaps in the door. Shiera kicked the door open. "Valkas!!" Shiera's shout echoed through the underground space. The man in the black robe standing before the altar turned slowly. "...The White Witch. You're too late." Valkas's face, lit by the red glow, looked like a demon's. "Stop that ritual. The entire castle is being consumed by your mana." Shiera raised Luminous. "Stop it, you say? How amusing. This ritual cannot be stopped now. It is already activated, with my life as the price. All that remains is to wait for the existence of witches to vanish from this world." Valkas spread both arms wide. From the altar, red light poured out even more violently. "...Your ritual is futile. As long as the Progenitor exists, witches will not disappear. On the contrary, this ritual cannot reach the Progenitor—not even a single finger." Shiera's voice was quiet. The smile vanished from Valkas's face. "What...? As long as the Prog

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Episode 6

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

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