The Ash Witch (4)
“Perfect timing.”
The witch spoke, pulling an axe from her head and tossing it at Dalen’s feet as if discarding trash.
The split in her head sealed itself almost instantly. She raised her hands to her chest, her gnarled fingers weaving a strange pattern in the air.
“I was just thinking of inviting a guest. Someone who’ll be very fond of you, Sir Knight.”
A low, rapid incantation flowed from her lips as her hands moved swiftly through the air. The clearing seemed to darken, and a sinister wind swirled around the altar.
Lucia turned abruptly, her eyes widening at the sight.
The offering on the altar was rising into the air.
“What kind of vile…!”
It was a grotesque symbol, crafted from severed human arms woven together like a crown of branches. Hundreds of fingers intertwined, forming blasphemous letters in a ghastly totem.
With a whoosh, green flames ignited the symbol, and the space above the altar began to crack open.
A jagged rift, glowing with a dark crimson light, formed into an oval portal.
From beyond the hellish gate, two massive hounds, draped in blue chains, emerged. Their eyes burned with a fiery intensity as they lowered themselves, drooling at the sight of Lucia.
“These are the prized hunting dogs of Kalchas, the Master of the Chain Throne. They have a particular taste for the flesh and blood of a lovely paladin like you.”
Dalen raised an eyebrow. These creatures were formidable, not quite demons but certainly high-level beasts. Even a full combat squad of twelve paladins, two apprentices, and a knight would struggle against them.
Of course, Lucia Castachild, though an apprentice, had long surpassed the strength of an ordinary paladin.
Dalen turned to her and asked, “Can you handle them?”
“I’ll finish it quickly,” Lucia replied, her holy tattoos glowing with light. Her confidence was unmistakable.
“Then I’ll leave my back to you once again,” Dalen said with a low chuckle, picking up the axe at his feet. He strode toward the witch.
The old witch retreated slowly, a sly grin on her face. “Heh, I prefer a muscular man like you over a woman. Where are you from in the North?”
Dalen didn’t answer. Engaging with this fake witch was pointless; the real one wouldn’t be affected, and it would only tire him out.
He stopped in his tracks, half-closing his eyes to peer into the familiar world beyond his mind’s eye.
A landscape of sheer cliffs and steep slopes blanketed in white snow. The scene of a snow-covered mountain, the blizzard having subsided.
Around the hut, flames and frost swirled, each trying to catch the other’s tail.
Sparks occasionally flew between them, asserting their presence.
The ground pulsed like a heartbeat, and smooth stones, rooted like armor, dotted the snowy landscape.
The sky was a fiery red at the horizon, while the rest was filled with swirling winds.
As a guardian, he had studied this world daily, and now he understood a little more.
The concept of a domain was a vessel for holding power. A miracle where immense power, too great for a mortal body, was contained in a world shaped by the will of its owner.
And the greatest power in Dalen’s domain wasn’t the rain of fire from the red sky or the fierce winds threatening to crush everything.
It was the thunder that split the sky.
The thunder resonated through his heart, and the axe in his hand trembled as if begging to be thrown.
“Keeping your mouth shut to an old man’s question. Your table manners were lacking, but your etiquette is even worse.”
“Etiquette, my ass. You started with the insults.”
“The what…?”
Dalen didn’t respond this time either. He opened his eyes fully, gazing up at the ashen sky.
A living, writhing mass, the gray spectacle covered the sky above the forest.
The sacrificial victims, drugged and dazed, all looked up at that sky, and the witch’s simulacrum had been crafted and dropped from there.
The shadow that obscured the moon and stars wasn’t just a cloud hanging drearily in the night sky.
It was the concentrated power of bloodlines and spells, the witch’s domain materialized in the physical world.
It was also the hiding place where the witch concealed her true body.
Dalen’s dark eyes flashed like those of a beast.
Finally, his night vision, honed to perfection, borrowed the power of the domain to glimpse the shadows writhing in the ashen sky.
[You have discovered the corpse of a crusader who stalked the witch.]
[You have discovered the corpse of a powerless herbalist.]
[You have discovered the corpse of a righteous and brave warrior.]
[You have discovered the corpse of a silent assassin.]
As he clearly recognized the forms, notifications lined up from the other side of the sky.
Without taking his eyes off the writhing shadows, Dalen released the axe in his hand in time with the thunder in his mind.
“No, don’t!”
The fake witch cried out, but it was too late.
A flash—!
The distorted magic around Dalen wrapped around the released axe, transforming it into a massive beam of light.
A rumble of thunder followed, shaking the trees around the clearing.
For a moment, nothing happened.
The change came as the beam of light and the thunder’s echo subsided.
The ashen sky writhed, releasing a small mass that drifted down.
Thud!
The lump of ash fell from the sky, crashing to the ground.
Emerging from it was a young woman, draped in layers of fluttering ashen fabric.
“Cough! Ugh!”
She staggered, spitting blood, a long gash from shoulder to hip gushing crimson.
Dalen rolled his shoulders, glancing at the notifications hovering above her head. It was hard to get a glimpse of the boss’s true form.
“Heh, I was careless. I didn’t expect you to be a warrior with a domain.”
The Ash Witch chuckled softly, extending her hand.
The old woman, her simulacrum, crumbled into dust, drawn into her slender fingertips.
The ash then covered her wounds, temporarily sealing them.
Though sparks and small rumbles continued to erupt, it was merely a temporary fix, not complete regeneration.
“Hoo.”
With a strained sigh, the witch straightened her back, managing a temporary solution.
“Enaxagous, as promised, grant me strength.”
The witch, her face unlined, invoked the name of the dark god.
Her yellow eyes, wide and blazing with green fire, were proof that she had already received a portion of the dark god’s power.
The twisted magic in the sky and the space warping around her were signs that the witch had honed her own power to create a domain.
Crack—!
Dalen watched as the axe, which had fallen late into a corner of the clearing, slowly turned to ash. He smirked, drawing his sword.
It wasn’t unexpected.
Even without fully awakening his power, the Ash Witch was a formidable foe, surpassing even the lowest demons.
If he had defeated her in one blow, that would have been the real surprise.
Fortunately, thanks to his enhanced stamina, the aftermath of using his domain left him only slightly sore.
Swoosh.
Dalen drew his sword, taking a deep breath and channeling the energy of the crushing blade into his arms.
Meanwhile, the witch quickly formed seals, chanting low and fast, lifting herself into the air to widen the distance.
Dalen grinned. It had been a while since he’d had a proper fight since the battle with the Grandmaster.
With a surge of competitive spirit, he stomped the ground with his log-like legs.
Boom!
The ground exploded where he had stood, and the warrior’s form vanished.
Crash!
A massive tree, taller than two grown men, toppled over with a spin.
Boom!
The thunderous roar and the ensuing gale shattered a moss-covered boulder into pieces.
Rocks and dust flew into the air as Dalen tightened his grip on his sword.
The clearing where the altar had stood was too small a battlefield for two superhumans with domains. The fight inevitably spilled into the forest.
The vines and trees rooted all around provided the witch with perfect cover to hide her body.
“Where are you?”
He peered into the world beyond his mind’s eye.
Drawing upon the power of his domain, Dalen scanned the surroundings with eyes that gleamed like lightning.
His senses stretched out in all directions, seeking the witch who had vanished from sight.
Swish!
The sound of fabric brushing against a branch.
Dalen swung his sword without hesitation.
Boom!
With a gust of wind, the earth erupted, and trees in its path shattered.
“You brute!”
At the end of the destruction stood a figure, a woman cloaked in billowing gray fabric. She quickly formed a series of hand signs and leaped away.
Whoosh—
As she extended her hand, ash rained down from the sky.
The debris of stone and wood, propelled by the force of Dalen’s strike, collided with the wave of ash, veering off course.
The witch, having narrowly evaded the aftermath, glanced back at Dalen as she floated into the air.
”…Where?”
The northern warrior had vanished.
All that remained in her view were the fallen trees and the deep furrows carved into the earth by his sword.
Crunch!
A sudden sound made her look up, and there he was.
Upside down, feet planted on a towering tree, ready to launch himself at her.
“Damn it!”
Crack!
The witch hurled herself aside. Dalen’s form crashed into the ground where she had stood, obliterating the tree in his path.
Crash!
With a thunderous roar, a blinding flash erupted.
The power of his domain unleashed, carving a deep crater where the witch had been, shrouding it in a cloud of dust and stone.
“Ugh…”
The witch, having narrowly escaped, flicked her fingers.
This was the forest surrounding the clearing, a place filled with traps and spells she had prepared.
Rustle!
Without incantation, her will and a mere gesture brought thorny vines to life and boulders to rise.
Screech—
Rumble!
Even through the thick dust, the warrior’s presence was unmistakable, as dozens of vines and massive boulders rolled towards him.
Screech—
The mandrake, its head buried in the ground, emerged and screamed at the warrior.
“Ugh!”
Even with resistance to the mandrake’s scream, granted by a dark god, his vision blurred for a moment.
The witch steadied herself, her eyes flashing green.
The traps had bought her a final chance. Her slender fingers formed a complex sign.
“Enaxagous—!”
She reached towards the ashen sky.
In response, a green ash storm descended from above.
The ash swept through the branches, skimming the ground.
Rustle—
Everything in its path, branches and pebbles alike, turned to ash and scattered.
‘I’ve won.’
The witch thought.
Her true power lay not in spells but in the inherited curse of ash.
The curse that turned everything to ash was the true testament of her lineage’s power.
Whoosh!
The ash storm penetrated the dust cloud. The warrior was still within.
The vines and boulders had done their job, holding him for a brief moment.
”…It was a good fight, warrior.”
Seeing the ash cover the crater, the witch leaned against a tree, exhaling slowly.
No matter how powerful his domain, without the holy power of a paladin or priest, he couldn’t overcome the curse.
And while the curse usually required a mark on the target, the dark god’s power had shattered that limitation, manifesting as the green ash storm.
From the moment she could wield this power, the battle’s outcome was decided.
“Heh. Even the mandrake’s scream, once a trial, now sounds like a victory song—”
At that moment.
Whoosh— Crack!
A large shield flew from the crater, slicing the screaming mandrake in two and embedding itself in the ground.
The witch’s eyes widened. She stared intently through the settling dust.
Beyond the slowly dissipating dust cloud, the warrior’s voice rang out.
“You’re damn noisy. You talk about table manners, yet you play with ginseng like it’s a toy?”
”…How?”
A sudden gust swept the dust away.
Inside the revealed crater, the remnants of vines and boulders were still turning to ash.
But the warrior stood tall, seemingly unaffected by the curse.
No, the ash curse was indeed affecting him.
The green ash was corroding his armor, clinging to and gnawing at his skin beneath.
Sizzle…
The warrior hadn’t evaded the curse.
Instead, his skin, muscles, and tissues were regenerating as quickly as they were destroyed.
The witch spoke with a trembling voice.
“How can a mortal… possess the blood of an immortal dragon?”
Dalen didn’t answer. He rotated his stiff neck and sighed.
“Phew.”
“No, even so, you can’t withstand it. The blood of a dragon is forbidden to mere mortals. It will drain your strength and ultimately lead to your death.”
The witch stammered. Dalen chuckled.
Her words, though awkward, were not wrong.
‘It could have been a losing battle.’
The Ash Witch was formidable.
And among her abilities, the ash curse was the most troublesome.
This curse, born of her hatred for humans, was one of the worst, turning anything she marked into ash.
‘Unless you kill the witch or purge the curse with holy power, there’s no way to break it.’
And after gaining the dark god Enaxagous’s power, the curse had evolved into a more potent form.
No longer needing a mark, the green ash storm could turn anything it touched to ash.
The Ash Witch became one of the most notorious mid-game bosses, largely due to this insane ability.
Dalen’s original plan was to deal with her before she acquired this power.
‘I never expected her to gain such strength from the dark god so quickly. In fact, it still doesn’t make sense.’
Infernal beings never grant power without a price.
And the sacrifices the witch had offered so far numbered less than a few hundred.
Originally, she was supposed to strengthen the ash curse by sacrificing thousands using the mandrake’s scream.
Thus, the power she wielded now was inexplicable.
‘But then again, something equally inexplicable happened on my end.’
Dalen raised his hand. The sword hilt in his grip crumbled to ash.
The armor on his arm disintegrated, exposing skin that was continuously destroyed and regenerated.
Hum—
His raised hand grasped the hilt of the sword strapped to his back.
When the witch’s green ash storm engulfed him, the dormant holy sword began to resonate.
Crackle—
The cloth wrapping the holy sword crumbled.
The chains that had bound it to Dalen’s back turned to ash and vanished.
As soon as his thick hand gripped the hilt, a pure energy surged through his palm, cleansing the curse’s magic.
“The holy sword!”
The witch, her face pale, staggered backward.
Rumble.
Dalen, having shaken off the green ash, lifted the sword, hearing a rumble beyond the ordinary.
Rumble—
Dalen looked up.
The rumble wasn’t just within.
In the midst of the ashen sky, the gray clouds parted, revealing the night sky.
Rumble.
The thunder within him resonated.
Rumble!
In response, thunder roared from the storm clouds above.
Dalen took a deep breath.
The pure energy coursed through his limbs, revitalizing him.
Gripping the sword with both hands, he raised it above his head.
Whoosh—!
As he brought the sword down towards the witch, in harmony with the thunder within.
Crash!
The storm clouds unleashed a thunderous roar upon the forest.
Flash—
Simultaneously, a massive pillar of light split the sky, piercing through the opening and striking down upon the witch.
Author’s Note
“Dalen. I know it’s a bit late to bring this up, but I think I deserve an apology.”
Sitting by the campfire, Lucia spoke. Dalen, about to bite into a freshly roasted deer leg, swallowed and replied.
“For what?”
“Calling the holy sword ghostly was quite rude, especially in front of a paladin.”
…Did I say that?
Scratching his head, he thought maybe he did.
In the depths of the Revivach Forest, on their way to deal with the Ash Witch, the sacred sword had stopped vibrating the moment Lucia touched it. That’s when he had said it.
Damn intelligence stat. Why do I even remember things like that?
“That’s outright blasphemy, you know.”
Lucia’s expression was stern. Dalen rubbed his nose awkwardly, his eyes never leaving the deer leg in front of him.
“My apologies.”
“I expect a sincere apology.”
Dalen scratched his nose again. Did it really have to come to this?
But the sight of the juicy deer leg, the memory of Lucia’s past culinary masterpieces, and the promise of many more to come on their journey made him speak up without realizing it.
“I sincerely apologize. I was wrong.”
”…I accept your apology.”
Lucia’s expression softened as she picked up the pepper shaker.
She coated the deer breast with pepper and spices, then nudged the leg aside on the fire to place the breast in the center.
Sizzle—
The sound of the deer meat cooking was music to the ears. As Lucia slowly turned it over the fire, she suddenly glanced at Dalen and asked,
”…You didn’t apologize just because there’s food in front of you, did you?”
Dalen hesitated. He took a deep breath, chewing and swallowing the meat in his mouth deliberately.
Then he spoke.
“Of course not. I’m a warrior recognized by the sacred sword, after all. Trust me. We’re on the same side.”
He thought to himself.
Damn, it’s hard to get a decent meal around here.
“Did you just curse in your head?”
”…What are you talking about? I was just thinking how delicious the meat is.”
“Good to hear. Eat up.”
This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but it contains some spoilers for today’s chapter, so it’s a day late.