The Witch of Feathers (2)
Her breath hung in the air, a white mist. The night air was cool.
No, “cool” was far too mild a word for the desert night.
The chill radiating from the desert sands could rival even the coldest glaciers.
The light and heat that blazed during the day seemed a lie, as icicles clung to the tents at the campsite.
Crunch. Crunch.
Despite walking on such cold sand, Sienna didn’t seem particularly bothered by the chill.
Her dark, fur-lined coat was imbued with powerful warming magic, and her boots were similarly enchanted.
Her skin, slightly flushed from the warmth spell, and her hair, still damp as if freshly washed, gave off a faint scent. It was the aroma of tea.
“I told you before.”
After walking for a while in silence, Sienna finally spoke.
“Told me what?”
“That I hate being in debt.”
“Ah, yes. I remember.”
Was it before they descended into the labyrinth? It was the day some arrogant imperial noble had picked a fight.
That day, Sienna had deftly handled the noble’s knight with her repeating crossbow, ensuring that no one dared to challenge Dalen at the Crow’s Nest again.
Crunch.
The sand crumbled beneath their feet. Sienna spoke again.
“But I’ve ended up in debt again. This time, a debt of life.”
Her words were tinged with a light sigh. Dalen scratched his nose.
He had come here for two reasons.
One was a deal with Bourbon. The other was to ensure the survival of Sienna, the Witch of Feathers and the greatest information broker.
He had told Sienna a slightly different story.
That he had been hired by the Tsar’s special forces as a guide, and in the process, discovered she had gone ahead as the guide for the advance party.
Dalen looked up. The pitch-black labyrinthine sky was dotted with countless stars.
Stars of the labyrinth. Fragments of light from a fantastical world. Destined to shatter before the end, or perhaps by his own hand.
Lost in thought, he gave an answer that was a bit unlike his usual self.
“What’s a debt between friends?”
Sienna’s steps halted. Just for a moment. Her boots resumed their path, leaving deep, narrow footprints in the sand.
The wide, steady crunch of his steps and her quick, narrow ones echoed for a while.
After another stretch of silence, Sienna finally uttered the word she had been hesitating over.
“Friends…”
“Aren’t we friends?”
“Yes, friends. We are.”
“Thank you. I thought I was just a loner getting excited about being friends with a popular person.”
“Could you stop using those strange words? They’re not even from the northern dialect.”
Sienna raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Because of you, I had to relearn the northern dialect from scratch. Do you know how betrayed I felt when I found out you weren’t really from the north?”
“When did I ever say I came from beyond the Northern Plateau?”
Dalen grinned playfully. The angle between Sienna’s eyebrows grew a bit sharper.
“You’re not from the north.”
“No, I’m not.”
“No one knows your family, where you were born, or what life you’ve led.”
“That’s right. No one knows.”
Sienna glared at him, her brow furrowed. Dalen found her expression amusing and couldn’t suppress a smile.
After staring at him for a while, the city’s top information broker ruffled her long, black hair and muttered.
“Honestly, are you from the future or something?”
“Maybe I am.”
“Yeah, right.”
She playfully slapped his arm. Even through his light shirt, her hand was surprisingly firm.
For a moment, light laughter filled the space between them. Sienna got to the point afterward.
“Actually, I’m a witch.”
“I know.”
”…What?”
Dalen shrugged.
“Actually, I’m from the future.”
”…What are you talking about? Anyway, when I was young, I didn’t live in the Bronze District. My home was in the Golden Palace.”
The Golden Palace.
Her words carried a mix of emotions.
A touch of love and hate, resentment, and longing.
The Golden Palace was located in the innermost part of the labyrinthine city of Falcion, surrounded by seven walls, second only to the twenty-six halls.
The only district guarded by two walls, it was the heart of the labyrinthine city.
The tallest palace in Falcion, home to the twenty-six transcendents and their families.
Given the political and military significance of the labyrinthine city, it was arguably the most important stronghold in the central continent.
For Sienna, who was born and raised there, to become the owner of a small tavern in the back alleys of the Bronze District, it must have been a series of tumultuous times.
Her hesitations and stumbles in her words, so unlike when she recited the details of a commission, were likely due to this.
“My mother was expelled from the Golden Palace, and I was hidden in the most remote corner of the city. The low streets of the southern district of the Bronze District. A harsh place for a seven-year-old child to live.”
Sienna continued her story slowly.
“The reason I’m in the labyrinth now is because of a wrong choice I made back then.”
She spoke of events from decades ago, when she was just a seven-year-old child.
The witch’s lineage is passed from mother to only daughter. Naturally, Sienna’s mother was also a Witch of Feathers.
At that time, the Witches of Feathers had long been established in the Golden Palace.
The witch’s bloodline, descended from the primordial witch, was so powerful that even the Golden Palace coveted it.
Thus, the Witches of Feathers, who were friendly to humans, had maintained a deep cooperative relationship with the Golden Palace for centuries.
Though not officially included among the twenty-six families, the Witches of Feathers held influence and wealth that rivaled them.
The peaceful coexistence was shattered when Sienna was just seven years old.
“Have you heard of the Three Nights of Witch Hunts?”
“Roughly.”
Dalen nodded.
The Three Nights of Witch Hunts was an event that shook the entire labyrinthine city about twenty years ago.
A witch who nearly annihilated one of the families of the Golden Palace was hunted down and executed by the entire city.
Though twenty years had passed, few residents of the city were unaware of this event.
Even fewer knew that it was actually a scheme by an evil god, one of the Golden Palace’s greatest blunders.
“Honestly, I don’t remember much because I was so young. What I do remember is the changed looks in people’s eyes and the letters piling up at our door, sent by who knows who.”
The letters varied in content. Polite criticism, sharp threats, violent words.
No matter how bright she was, to a mere seven-year-old, such words and sentences were unfamiliar.
Of course, as an adult, Sienna understood. The letters were filled with political pressure to discredit her mother.
“Before long, the political pressure turned into more tangible persecution. The accusations against my mother were that serious. And people didn’t want to give her a chance to explain.”
Rivals who had long envied the witch’s power began to harass the mother and daughter at every turn.
The front door was smeared with filth, and the mailbox was filled with poisonous toads.
Anonymous thugs were hired to vandalize the house multiple times.
Though they had the wealth and power to retaliate, Sienna’s mother refrained from acting rashly.
“The accusations against her were too severe and cleverly crafted.”
Acting hastily could have worsened the situation.
It would have confirmed the stereotype of the witch’s inherent violence, forcing her to bear the blame for the misdeeds of countless witches before her.
Dalen stroked his chin. He asked.
“The Golden Palace isn’t that irrational. Couldn’t she have appealed to the twenty-six halls?”
“Yes. Given enough time, she could have cleared her name. My mother endured all the humiliation with that hope.”
No one directly threatened her life, and even if there were assassination attempts, a witch’s power was more than enough to protect herself.
But her rivals struck an unexpected weak point.
They touched the one thing they should never have, the witch’s most vulnerable spot.
“That was me.”
The kidnappers might not have thought much of it.
They might have considered it similar to dumping filth at the door or placing a poisonous creature in the mailbox.
Perhaps they even intended to return her unharmed, thinking it wouldn’t be a big issue.
But to a witch, an only daughter was more than just a child.
When they touched the only heir to her bloodline, Sienna’s mother lost her composure.
That night, not only the kidnappers but also more than half of the family that hired them lost their lives.
Effectively, one of the twenty-six families faced near annihilation.
“The Golden Palace was thrown into chaos. My mother fled with me, and the guardians of the Golden Palace pursued us to the Bronze District.”
The pursuit was relentless. In the end, Sienna’s mother made a decision.
To protect her only daughter, she would act as bait and flee the city.
Thus, Sienna was left in the southern district of the Bronze District, a place so overrun with outsiders that even the city guards had given up on controlling it.
Just as the saying goes, “It’s darkest under the lamp,” the pursuers never imagined she would be hiding right within the city.
“I wandered the streets aimlessly. Then one day, I heard rumors that the witch hunt had succeeded after three days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s all in the past. What matters is that I survived somehow.”
Sienna shook her head lightly.
Before they knew it, they were nearing the tent. They had circled the campsite and returned almost to where they started.
“To survive, I had to hide my powers. As I grew older, the witch’s power within me grew uncontrollably. I realized I couldn’t go on like that, so I sought out a lowly street warlock.”
Sienna let out a small laugh, her lips curling into a sardonic smile.
“I made a deal with a demon, and I no longer had to worry about my powers being discovered. But now, I need that power again. I’m actually on my way to reclaim it.”
“A deal with a demon, huh? That’s not something easily broken.”
“I’ll have to find a way to settle it. I’ll tell you more next time.”
Crunch.
In front of Dalen’s tent, Sienna stepped back with her hands behind her back, her expression slightly complicated. Dalen scratched his chin and said, “Rest well.”
Sienna nodded. Watching her, Dalen shrugged and stepped into the tent.
The tent flap swayed gently. Once the light inside went out, the witch murmured softly, “Goodnight. Thanks for listening.”
The next day.
Following the declaration of Commander Sasha, the special unit set off for the third floor of the labyrinth.
Marching through the scorching desert like this was practically madness.
The reassembled special unit consisted of about sixty members, a third of whom were injured from the previous night’s battle.
Though healing potions had treated their wounds, they still needed more time to fully recover.
Fortunately, Dalen had a solution. Just a few days ago, he had acquired a desert-crossing vehicle.
Rumble…
A gentle vibration could be felt through the skin. Despite grinding through the bedrock and thick sand layers deep underground, the ride was remarkably smooth.
“Isn’t it impressive? Sandworm scales absorb shock to an extreme degree. They’re one of the most sought-after materials by craftsmen. If only I could get a bit more…”
“You’ve already taken plenty. Don’t be too greedy.”
“Ah, well, I was just thinking about using it for a new explosive additive…”
Dalen looked at the dwarf silently. The dwarf’s single eye darted around before finally settling on the ground with a sullen gaze.
Watching this, Sienna chuckled. “Never thought I’d see a one-eyed master craftsman bowing to a mercenary.”
“Life’s unpredictable, isn’t it?”
“That’s life for you. How much further?”
“We should be almost there.”
Dalen focused his senses for a moment.
His guess was spot on. Outside the sandworm’s scales, the soil was becoming increasingly damp.
Unlike the dry expanse of the desert, the area around the entrance to the third floor of the labyrinth was moist and saturated.
He could even hear the sound of underground water at the edge of his sensory range, indicating they were close to their destination.
Rumble…
With a slight pull on the controls, the sandworm began to ascend toward the surface.
Before long, the blinding light of the desert greeted them once more.
The sandworm had brought them to the top of a high sand dune.
Dalen dismounted, pulling out his spear. The others, who had disembarked first, were peering down from the dune.
“Well, it’s been a while.”
Bjorn stroked his beard, gazing at the massive hole below.
Rumble…
It was a sinkhole, gaping wide in the middle of the desert.
From its depths, a powerful updraft, laden with moisture, rose and mingled with the desert heat, creating a shimmering mirage.
It was as if a colossal beast was exhaling its breath.
If there truly was an entrance to hell as the legends claimed, it would look just like this.
“We’ve arrived without incident. Let’s head down.”
Sasha spoke, while behind her, the special unit members were preparing their gear.
The hole, resembling the entrance to hell, was the gateway to the third floor of the labyrinth.
To proceed to the next level, they had to descend into its depths.