Chapter 483: The Broadcast

Since the civil war in the southern territories ended, all the church powers there had entered a kind of limbo. The most influential—the Holy Light Church—was confined within Luan City, and its missionaries ceased their activities altogether. Meanwhile, the smaller, scattered cults of foreign gods outside the Holy Light Church quickly sensed the danger and voluntarily halted or scaled back their operations in the south. In effect, with the war’s conclusion, the spread of faith across this land had become a vacuum—except for one thing: the “New Holy Light Faith,” or the “Pure Doctrine of the Holy Light,” slowly seeping outward from Cecil City.

With the launch of a “public opinion propaganda campaign,” this creeping new faith would rapidly fill that vacuum. Correspondingly, the old Holy Light Church’s influence would suffer a devastating blow in the process.

Cecil’s printing presses roared to life.

An overwhelming flood of newspapers and propaganda materials blanketed the entire southern region. Every moment, articles exposing and dissecting the Holy Light Church appeared before the public.

Under the pens of Gawain Orlando and Light, these pieces coldly and clearly peeled back the layers of the Holy Light Church’s colossal facade. For the first time, the church was not portrayed as a lofty, transcendent power or a sanctified group bathed in divine aura. Instead, it was laid bare as an ordinary organization—one that relied on power to maintain itself, on money to operate. Stripped of all grandiose rhetoric and concealment, people finally saw how the church functioned: how it controlled the dissemination of theological knowledge, maintained the purity of its top members, recruited newcomers, amassed wealth, upheld armed forces to secure its status, and fabricated lies to crush rivals…

With every detail dissected, every link in the church’s operation lost its sacred veneer.

On this foundation, news from Luan City began quietly appearing as “educational segments” interspersed within current affairs columns, occupying the most prominent spots in the newspapers.

As the lead writer for the news section, Gawain Orlando’s mastery of language shone through. His articles contained no insults, no emotional outbursts—he simply stated the facts about the Holy Light Church. Yet that alone was enough to awaken thousands.

But newspapers weren’t enough.

In Cecil City, inside a special building on the edge of the Mage District, Jipri was struggling to calm her nerves.

This building had once been part of the Arcane Technology Research Institute, but with the establishment of the Arcane Network Communication-Broadcast System, it was partitioned off and became the control center for the network’s communication and broadcast. On its upper floor, technicians worked overtime to renovate and retrofit the space. Based on the experience of the first arcane network broadcast, this was transformed into Cecil’s first truly functional “studio.”

Though she considered herself mentally strong and had been confident before, now, at this moment, Jipri felt an overwhelming, uncontrollable tension filling her heart.

She sat in the corridor outside the studio, watching through the window as the arcane technicians made final adjustments. Inside was a pale blue room, half arranged like a simple, cozy parlor with plain but comfortable sofas, a round table, and soft, bright lighting. The other half resembled a vast, complex magical laboratory: three specially made large arcane network terminals positioned in different directions, metal beams etched with runes extending from their bases to the control console at the far end. Rows of seats and rune devices were set up there to control the room’s lighting and the status of each terminal. When the “program” began, those seats would be filled with serious, alert technicians.

Jipri knew that soon she would sit on the sofa at one end of the room, facing those massive, intricate arcane machines and a group of expressionless staff, reading her script.

Apart from the machines, technicians, and a certain guest, she would have no other interlocutors or audience present. Yet in reality… countless people across the southern territories would be watching her at the very same moment—through “public arcane network terminals” installed in four industrial new cities and numerous satellite towns, her face would appear before them all.

She had never seen so many people in her life.

Usually proud of her eloquence, Jipri now found herself afraid to speak for the first time.

Just as she was lost in nervous thoughts, a cheerful voice suddenly interrupted her: “Nervous? If you’re nervous, have some candy~”

Startled, Jipri quickly turned to see Miss Rebecca Cecil standing beside her. The noblewoman, known for her prestigious surname, wore a loose technician’s white coat over her dress, looking far from the usual noble elegance. Her eyes sparkled as she held out a handful of candies toward Jipri. “Here, you won’t be allowed to eat once you’re inside the studio.”

Jipri hesitated, wanting to bow or politely refuse, but before she could react, Rebecca had already popped a candy into her mouth.

“Tasty, right? There’s honey inside!” Rebecca grinned. “Eating candy when you’re nervous—that’s Aunt Hetty’s trick. It really works.”

“Th-thank you…” Jipri murmured, still a bit dazed, then quickly recovered and said, “You’re very kind.”

Rebecca’s response surprised her: “Wow—first time someone’s said that to me so sincerely!”

Jipri was momentarily speechless, but before she could think of a reply, Rebecca jumped to another topic: “So, are you ready? You seemed to stumble a couple of times during rehearsal.”

“I… I think I’m ready,” Jipri said hurriedly, nodding firmly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Close enough is good enough—our ancestors always said, improvisation is key. Even if you forget your lines, you can make them up on the spot,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “And don’t think you’re the only one nervous. The guy you’re going on stage with might be even more tense.”

Jipri glanced over at her temporary partner.

Not far away, a two-meter-tall, heavily built man with a scar across his eye was sitting with his eyes closed, calm and composed.

Nearby floated a translucent, glowing little girl, making faces to try and scare passersby—though she never succeeded.

Jipri frowned. “…I don’t think Mr. Light is nervous at all. Miss Emily isn’t either.”

Rebecca noticed this too and was about to offer more encouragement when suddenly the bell signaling equipment readiness rang out.

Jipri lifted her head, watching the technicians exit the studio and the controllers enter. Taking a deep breath, she stood and nodded to Rebecca. “I’m going in.”

Rebecca beamed and clenched her fist over her chest, shaking it with a smile. “Good luck!”

Once seated in the focal position before the three arcane network terminals, Jipri felt light-headed, as if she were floating. An unreal sensation gripped her heart, making it race uncontrollably.

She was still terrified.

Light entered the studio and sat opposite her. The burly man, hardly looking like a priest, smiled faintly. Emily, the glowing spirit girl floating behind him, smiled too.

In that moment, Jipri felt her tension ease.

She looked at Emily, the big-eyed, innocent-smiling spirit quietly disappearing into the holy light resonance around Light, and suddenly remembered why she was here.

She felt ready.

“Equipment ready—countdown to start in five seconds.”

A voice came from somewhere. Jipri didn’t look for its source but settled on the sofa and turned her gaze to the three complex, massive, cold arcane machines.

She recalled the first time she used a clumsy “divination spell” to trick a merchant into giving her a meal the next day. Back then, she was just as terrified as she was now.

“…Four… three…”

When she was wandering the poor alleys of the south, among adventurers and mercenaries, she always used lies to protect herself, sweet talk to deceive others. But at the very beginning, she didn’t want to deceive anyone—she just wanted a full meal.

“…Two… one…”

Now, she had that meal.

Today, she was going to speak the truth.

“Start!”

A sweet, warm smile spread across Jipri’s face:

“Hello, everyone. I’m Jipri, but you can call me Miss Witch.

“I’m sure many of you are curious about the scene before you—wondering what a stranger suddenly appearing in a magical projection wants to do. I believe you’ll soon find out.

“Welcome to the first episode of ‘Witch Time.’ Today, we’re going to talk about what’s happening in Luan City…”

In a nearby room, a test arcane network terminal activated. As magical energy filled the holographic crystal, a stable, clear image appeared above it, accompanied by Jipri’s sweet voice.

Gawain watched the image and sound, tilting his head slightly as he spoke to Hetty beside him: “She’s doing well—the person Amber recommended is reliable.”

“Better than expected,” Hetty nodded. “If she can keep this up, it’ll be fine.”

Just then, the door suddenly opened, and a cheerful Rebecca entered, stepping lightly. “Ancestor! The latest feedback is in—all the arcane network terminals across the region have successfully gone online!”

Noticing the test broadcast, she smiled brightly. “Miss Jipri is doing great!”

Gawain stroked his chin but suddenly looked puzzled. “But wasn’t this show called ‘Cecil Chat’? I think I was the one who named it…”

Rebecca froze. “Oh, really?”

“Looks like she forgot the name and made one up on the spot,” Gawain said with a strange expression, turning back to the test broadcast. “The cue cards on the table didn’t help… but the name she came up with isn’t bad.”

‘Witch Time’ it is, then… fitting for this world.

(End of chapter)