Chapter 41 : Coincidence and Hope

“This should be the place.”

At midday, a crimson silhouette gazed down from the sky.

Roseithe Elodé, the Witch who governs love and desire — the 34th Witch, revered by mortals as the Goddess of Love.

Whether in the sanctuaries of grand temples or among the elite of the Sky Islands’ witches, she was undoubtedly the most beautiful — her lips always curled in an enchanting smile that could drive hearts to madness.

Yet at this moment, the ever-smiling Witch wore a face of cold stone.

Her eyes swept over the land below, resting upon a tiny village nearly swallowed by forest:

Stat Village.

The village remained as peaceful and serene as ever.

The elderly Chief Normar lounged under a tree in his rocking chair.

Hunters returned from the forest with morning game, preparing lunch.

Little Annie and a group of children swarmed around their beloved Nuohette, cheerful and unaware.

Unaware of the looming catastrophe above.

“Forgive me, Lanafit,” Roseithe murmured. “I know I promised to respect your choice. I wanted to. But…”

A glowing crimson magic circle formed in her palm, and waves of sweltering heat rolled outward.

Her wine-red hair whipped through the air, caught in the growing storm.

“But I simply can’t sit back and watch you suffer divine punishment from the Demon God. If you won’t do it, then I will.”

The once palm-sized spell circle expanded in a blink, now vast enough to blanket dozens of miles — a catastrophic magic large enough to blot out the sun.

In an instant, the peaceful village erupted into chaos.

Every villager stared up, wide-eyed, at the massive formation overhead, murmuring nervously, fear etched across their faces.

Some stood frozen.

Others fled toward the village’s edge, away from the approaching calamity.

But the sky would not wait.

Flames fell like arrows — a rain of fire crashing down from above.

It was hell incarnate, an apocalypse set to reduce the world to ash.

Screams.

Panic.

Animals and people fleeing in every direction.

Some darted into buildings; others fled blindly into the forest.

But it all felt futile.

If that rain of fire truly struck, the land below would be nothing but scorched earth.

The elderly Chief Normar fell to his knees, praying, pleading — begging for the gods’ mercy.

What he did not know… was that the one bringing their destruction was the very “god” they prayed to.

Nuohette clutched Annie tightly and rushed toward his father.

Desperately, he tried to drag the old man inside, but he knew — his feet were no match for the flames already descending.

There was no time left.

He threw himself over both the old man and the girl, shielding them with his own body, hoping — foolishly — that flesh and bone could stop this unnatural catastrophe.

As the villagers cried out in terror, as hope vanished from their eyes…

A flicker of blue light shot out from beneath Nuohette.

More precisely, from Annie — from the ribbon tying her hair.

“Vrrrrooom——!!!”

A deep hum like a great bell rang out.

No one noticed the tiny blue spark amid the firestorm — but that single spark would change everything.

Nuohette shut his eyes, bracing for death.

His body trembled with fear, but he didn’t move an inch.

Yet instead of the searing pain he expected, a sudden coldness enveloped him.

He shivered.

Opening his eyes, confused, he saw that his entire body was now encased in frost — bitter cold stinging his skin.

But he was alive.

He looked up, stunned.

The sky, once ablaze, was now sealed under a glittering dome of ice.

The falling flames froze midair, while the rest slammed into a wall of ice thicker than stone, melting harmlessly into slush.

“What is this…?”

Nuohette looked around.

The entire village was the same.

Everyone had been caught in a wave of cold, huddling and trembling under layers of frost.

The rooftops gleamed with heavy snow, but — not a single person had been harmed.

They all stared, speechless.

Then, from the sky, a glimmering shape drifted down slowly.

A fully bloomed, exquisite rose of ice.

It landed gently on the snowy ground.

“Crack——!”

A crisp sound rang out as a fine fracture spread across the surface of the perfect blossom — a fatal flaw on a work of art.

…

…

…

“…What…”

The fiery magic circle faded from the sky.

Roseithe, still hovering, stared wide-eyed at the enormous glacier-like formation that had suddenly appeared.

If her sense for magic was right, the unique magical energy within it could only belong to Lanafit.

“You had a safeguard prepared all along… didn’t you, Lanafit…”

Her gaze softened with sorrow.

She thought this icy barrier was Lanafit’s final protection — a precaution, in case the Demon God truly descended to mete out punishment.

Or perhaps… a warning.

A desperate gesture from someone afraid they’d lose their humanity and become nothing more than a tool of the Demon God.

A message to the future, a whisper from the person she used to be.

But that wasn’t the truth.

That ice flower wasn’t a failsafe.

It was simply a gift — a small token of affection from Lanafit to a kind-hearted girl named Annie.

At the time, she hadn’t yet received the order to destroy the village.

She hadn’t even thought of leaving a safeguard.

Even so, this obstacle would not stop Rosette.

Just like the rain of fire she had summoned before, she could cast it again thousands, tens of thousands of times.

And this ice wall—now already half-melted—how many more strikes could it withstand?

The magic circle in her hand emerged once more.

Rosette was ready for her next spell.

This time, she would pour in even more magical power.

The ice barrier Lanafette left behind would be completely destroyed this time.

But just then—

Brilliant green magic circles suddenly lit up in the previously empty surroundings.

They formed a sphere around Rosette, as if intending to trap her entirely.

Sensing the sudden surge of magical energy, Rosette immediately retreated, slipping out of the sphere just before it could close.

In the next instant, the green spherical array transformed into a cage made of vines and flowers.

But because it had failed to catch its prey, the cage faded away the moment it was formed.

“Stand down, Rosette Elrod. This is not your battle to fight.”

A stern female voice rang out from above.

Rosette looked up into the sky and saw a woman with flowing golden hair standing there.

Her green eyes, usually filled with kindness, now held a stern expression as they gazed down at Rosette.

Andelle End, the Witch of Harvest and Earth, the fourth successor of the witches on the Sky Archipelago.