Chapter 1495
Is it not yet time to speak lightly of death?
The Witch of Reality, Tentis, stood before the main observation window of the Ladistra, her posture like an ice sculpture. Outside, beneath the sea of clouds, a grand opera of disaster was unfolding on the earth, and she was the most silent spectator.
This aerial warship, known as the "Azure Dragon's Nest," is the mobile headquarters of the Witch Society and a perpetual shadow looming over the continent of Sigria. For a long time, rumors have circulated among extraordinary individuals, magicians, false god believers, and other supernatural beings about it. Some say the Witch Society has enslaved a real dragon and transformed it into a mechanical fortress; that dragon was also the last remaining dragon on the Sigria continent, and if the dragons behind the White Gold Mountain knew of this, they would likely not let it go. Others say that this mysterious warship has appeared behind many significant historical events—the Renaissance, the Dark Ages, the Hundred Years' War, and the brutal Battle of the End Fields—it is omnipresent, monitoring the state of all civilizations and order on this land.
While these rumors are certainly unfounded, mere fabrications of fear by fools attempting to convince people that the world is ruled by a more illusory force than by power or wealth as traditionally understood, people tend to prefer trusting their own judgment. It makes them feel like they are thinking independently, rather than simply following the crowd.
How will the world view this disaster after today?
The world outside the window was ablaze. Tentis slowly closed his eyes, as if he could already see the scene: In Renweting, the capital of the Great Kingdom of Britta, hospitals were overflowing, pedestrians trudged through the streets like ghosts of the past, crows replaced the ever-present smog, lingering day and night, waiting for someone to fall so they could devour the corpse; from the tallest tower in Rostin, looking out over the Sosen Mountains, ancient trees withered one after another, amber pus oozing from cracked bark, spirits and beasts shrieked inhumanly, and swarms of moths flew into the putrid river, briefly engulfing it; in the coastal city of Lotdana, deep within a still-operating mine, miners, even wearing thick gas masks, could not escape the miasma, and could only watch helplessly as hordes of rats rushed past, surging madly into the decaying world of daylight…
Crows, moths, and rats—these are the only creatures symbolizing misfortune that are granted the right to remain unaffected during a plague. Is it because the world still needs them as messengers to deliver this unfortunate news, or because they were originally companions of the disease and once brought judgment upon humankind in the name of messengers?
In the end, it still came to this.
Tients couldn't help but think that Caraboss's fate was predictable, as she had been prepared; Perec's fate, however, was unexpected, as she had never been prepared. But whether prepared or not, the same ending was inevitable. Did this suggest that some things in this world are inherently unchangeable?
The catastrophe was destined from the moment the old world of Eden was destroyed; if we trace it back further, perhaps the moment the great goddess decided to create the world, the story was already destined to end in tragedy. The destruction, creation, reconstruction and restoration that occurred in between are merely footnotes to this tragedy, adding only to the troubles.
Hurried footsteps echoed from outside, sometimes near, sometimes far. When they were far, they seemed to float in the clouds, ethereal and intangible; when they were near, they felt heavy and powerful, like footsteps on one's heart. The Society members were fulfilling their duties, fighting against an invisible enemy. Although no enemy could infiltrate this heavily guarded skyship, what if it came from within? From someone the Society members had never considered an enemy, and could never consider an enemy.
Thinking of this, Tentis couldn't help but chuckle, his tone somewhat self-deprecating.
It's as if they have the right to choose who their enemies are and who their friends are.
Strictly speaking, the higher one's position, the less qualified one is, because they possess power but are subject to too many restrictions because of that power: freedom, fate, dignity, ideals, beliefs... No strong person has ever been able to exist alone without these things, and the power of the young queen is the worst of them all.
The essence of monarchy is law, and the essence of law is impartiality. Those bound by law are neither friend nor foe, regardless of status. Therefore, even though Perec was one of the founders of the Witches' Society, the plague monarchy would not show leniency to the members of the Society aboard the Ladistra. At the moment of its awakening, with just a heartbeat, a blink, or even a breath, the disease could spread, proliferate, and infect the entire universe. Neither the blazing stars nor this isolated sky island far removed from the world could escape its threat.
The Ladistra's emergency plans for unforeseen circumstances had already been activated, and all remaining members of the Society were on wartime alert. The situation was far from optimistic; the number of severely infected individuals had reached twelve percent, and most departments had come to a standstill. Researchers, especially those with weaker constitutions and lower resistance to disease, were destined to face an even more severe test. However, everyone remained confident, believing this was merely a minor test in the Society's grand undertaking, its threat level even less than the steam-powered holy wars or religious wars of the past.
Since that's the case, there's no need to bother the leader. If even this kind of matter requires the leader's personal intervention, it only proves that the members of the society are incompetent and unable to accomplish anything without that person's leadership. Although everyone holds the leader in awe, there's one thing they're unwilling to admit.
Is it the pride unique to idealists, or the inherent sense of dignity of the human race at play?
Footsteps hurried outside, but everyone subconsciously slowed their pace as they passed the office, as if afraid of disturbing those inside. Every member remaining on the Radist knew that their leader had been in low spirits lately due to the death of the Dark Witch Caraboss in the Eastern Continent. She was usually high-spirited, leading everyone forward with boundless energy and unwavering will, but recently she had been quiet and withdrawn, seemingly burdened by worries.
In fact, signs of this change had already begun to emerge long ago, perhaps dating back to the failure of the Alien Philosopher's operation against the Heavenly Sanctuary. After the travelers under the Society's close surveillance fled to the Eastern Continent, Lord Tentis displayed an unprecedentedly serious attitude. At the time, some members were dismissive, believing it to be merely an accidental failure that didn't prove anything. However, Lord Caraboss later perished in the pursuit of their target, perhaps indicating that the leader's concerns were not unfounded but rather a well-thought-out strategy.
Afterwards, the Faith Power research project, led by Lady Fie and Lady Bailong, achieved a major breakthrough. This should have been a good thing, but it seemed to exacerbate the conflict between the leader and the research department. Several people in charge of the research department—Fie, Bailong, Otto, or Melchiardes—were all friends of the leader, but they had been deliberately avoiding communication with her lately; and the leader had also rarely visited the magical research institute to inspect its work anymore, and recently she had been going alone, looking rather…lonely?
Loneliness isn't a suitable word to describe a leader, yet it's also quite fitting. Because no one in this world has ever truly understood her, and she has consistently refused to be understood herself. But this isn't a manifestation of insecurity, nor is it related to past experiences; rather, it's because this "realistic witch" deeply understands that for those who admire her, there is never a greater distance than understanding.
Perhaps, allowing the undercurrents within the society to fester is based on the same reason.
Rumors circulated that several political groups had secretly formed within the Society, aiming to oppose the Eden Project, which the Society had steadfastly pursued since its inception, and that the breakthrough in the Faith Power research project was the catalyst. Some noticed a growing trend of independence within the Society's secular influence, and a less resolute stance on colonial strategies and overseas wars. Others pessimistically believed this was a harbinger of a split within the Society. The leader and other involved personnel never acknowledged these rumors, nor did they deny them, simply pretending they didn't exist. But sometimes ignoring something is an attitude, and as a result, the atmosphere on the Ladistra gradually became strange. Everyone was cautious, fearing being drawn into the impending storm… or being excluded. Those worried about being caught up in the storm weren't necessarily inclined to remain neutral, and were those unwilling to be excluded necessarily yearning for change? Although no one has ever truly understood Tentis, Tentis has never truly understood those who followed him. Ideals, desires, beliefs, loyalty, or ambition—this world has always been relative, not absolute.
The Witch of Reality opened her eyes again. The images of the disaster had been erased from her mind, but in their place were heavy, suppressed breaths, the bustling activity of the emergency response team, and the occasional urgent instructions leaked from the communication channels. Once upon a time, this ship was brimming with fervent vitality; even the shadows seemed to flicker with the flames of idealism. Now, the flames were dying down, and suspicion and alienation were breeding in the embers. She let the undercurrents fester, even deliberately ignoring the questioning glances and the hesitant meetings, telling herself that everything was for their shared, great cause. But now, with Caraboss gone and Perec about to leave, she realized that perhaps it wasn't "we," but "I."
"...How foolish."
She silently thought to herself, unsure whether she was judging others or herself. Long ago, someone had given her the same assessment, but that person's exact words weren't "stupid," but rather, "You're too stubborn, Tentis. This stubbornness will one day make you lose something." Recalling that person's worried and pitying gaze, and the black-haired girl's confident reply, "Don't worry, Mother, I have nothing but you, so naturally I won't lose anything."
Only as she lost more and more did she belatedly realize how foolish she had been to treat so lightly all that a mortal could possess in her short life, and that it was only natural that she would be abandoned by them in the end. In the end, even her mother left her, and the girl could finally say that she had nothing left to lose, but such proof was meaningless.
Will you repeat the same mistake, you real-life witch who has nothing left to lose?
Will you repeat the same mistakes, you who voluntarily joined the witch's society in pursuit of a grand ideal?
Will we repeat the same mistakes, the very thing that was created to maintain cosmic order... a royal power of young girls?
Another wave of more violent coughing faintly drifted from the lower deck, accompanied by the sharp clatter of metal instruments hitting the ground and the calm instructions of the medical staff. Incredibly, the isolation warning lights of the infirmary shone through the layers of decks, casting a dark red shadow onto the floor in front of the girl, flickering like a dying pulse. Tentis slowly raised a hand, her fingertips lightly touching the cold observation window glass. The glass reflected her indifferent face, and also the withering, decaying, disease-smeared land outside. The calamities of two worlds overlapped in her pupils at this moment.
After a long while, a faint sigh echoed out.
Then, an invisible force, centered on the Witch of Reality, spread like a tide, flowing through the metal floor, seeping into every crack, climbing every wall, and infusing into every pipe and wire, ultimately enveloping the colossal Azure Dragon's Nest, the Ladistra. Under the purification—or rather, rejection—of this force, the plague particles floating in the air melted away like frost; the ominous black spots that had appeared on the skin of patients in the medical room quickly faded; painful coughs and heavy breathing were soothed by a gentle force, replaced by astonished silence.
In the blink of an eye, a catastrophe capable of wiping out a race, overturning a civilization, or even destroying a planet was averted. This is the power of the Reality Kings. Since the Reality Project began, Tentis has rarely used this power, as she still needs it to suppress the billions of faith powers sealed within her. The last time she used it was in Renweiting, when she used the power of the Reality Kings to seal Alice's cassette tape. That was also the reunion of the two young queens of the Old World Eden after a long separation, but unfortunately, neither reunion brought pleasant memories.
Perhaps the power of reality is destined to be cold and sorrowful?
"Struggle desperately to survive, and forge ahead with difficulty for your ideals..."
"Whether you have like-minded friends who will always support you, or you turn against your former comrades..."
"Success or failure, at least we didn't compromise with reality..."
"Before that..."
Tantis withdrew his hand, thinking expressionlessly, "It's not time to speak lightly of death yet." (End of Chapter)