Two days had passed. After Iris apologized and provided a whole night of the “Iris-brand body pillow service,” Sophie finally recovered from her shut-in state.
However, at this moment, she was looking to cause trouble again.
“Iris! This wind magic **[Cyclone]** you had me learn—is there any way to improve it? Could Teacher Iris please give me some more guidance?”
Iris wasn’t sure what Sophie was up to, but her intuition told her that when her older sister acted like this, it usually meant nothing good.
“I suggest that you try to get your hands on some high-tier whirlwind magic if you get the chance later. After all, your wind magic affinity is at an upper-tier level. You just need more practice with **[Cyclone]**. You should be using more wind and lightning magic enchantments to strengthen the power of your sword skills, shouldn’t you?”
As she spoke, the action-oriented Sophie unleashed **[Cyclone]**. It was an area-of-effect wind attribute spell that could form a tornado upon contact with a target, serving as a type of magic that balanced damage and crowd control.
An invisible whirlwind swirled around her, and the wind immediately attached itself to her new weapon, **[Dusk Frost]**.
She struck an exaggerated, wide-open pose. Her starting stance, which looked like a mix of an Iaijutsu draw and a parry, made the onlookers not know whether to laugh or cry. Last time, Iris had even complained about what kind of sword-drawing technique that was supposed to be, but Sophie insisted she had created it herself.
She swung the katana down, and the cyclone, combined with the sword energy, was unleashed. Upon hitting the wooden stake ahead, an enchanted strike like a tornado immediately erupted!
“Hasaki!” Sophie shouted.
“…”
‘Oh, so that’s what it was,’ Iris thought, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
Fine, she was mentally exhausted, and she had grown used to it.
Still, seeing Sophie better utilize the enchantment traits of the Magic Swordsman class made Iris feel quite relieved.
It was worth mentioning that the two witch sisters, who had recently received an improved version of the concealment masks from Aunt Rachel, no longer found concealment potions appealing.
(According to reliable information from Aunt Rachel, Mother Felicitara often uses concealment potions to sneak out and play, even heading to the Tisomde Continent for months without returning… she completely ignores government affairs. Is this the legendary “offline monarchy”?)
Once the improved concealment masks were put on, they appeared invisible from the outside, even in their half-mask form. Their facial features looked just as they did after drinking a concealment potion; there were no traces of a mask being worn at all.
As long as the mask wasn’t destroyed, they wouldn’t be exposed. Concealment potions had a limited duration, and Iris wasn’t sure if taking too many would lead to drug resistance, rendering the potions useless.
She was truly grateful to Aunt Rachel. It saved her from the feeling of wanting to crawl into a hole every time she had to ask Sister Anne for more dragon saliva.
Sister Anne was just too kind and too cute.
—
Time moved into the new year. The festive atmosphere of Christmas and New Year’s had just passed, and the sisters immediately began their next move.
Iris decided to finally sit down and read the letter Aunt Rachel had brought them on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, Iris had still overlooked the Paxilio family crest on the envelope.
[May the children of Omnia be safe and sound, Honorable Lady Iris and Lady Sophie.
The current situation at the Tanatzk Great Mine in the Phantasmal Peaks is extremely severe. The High Noble Campbell appears to be operating his mining business as usual, but in reality, resistance scouts have discovered numerous traces of necromancy research within the veins.
Please come quickly to the Pope Resistance’s operational headquarters at the foot of the Phantasmal Peaks to meet. The divine clergy and resistance generals here are at your disposal.
—Mr. M.P.]
…
‘Who exactly is this Mr. M.P.?’ Iris wondered, her mind filled with questions.
Rachel had repeatedly emphasized that this resistance leader was absolutely trustworthy. He held high prestige among the people and possessed the charisma to summon a crowd with a single call.
‘Wait, why didn’t you write your full name in the letter? Are you trying to be a mysterious master?’
“Oh, Iris, let’s just trust him unconditionally. After all, Aunt Rachel was willing to stake her character to vouch for him, so there shouldn’t be any problem.” Seeing Iris lost in thought for so long, Sophie made her own deduction before Iris could finish contemplating.
The man’s handwriting was strong and vigorous, and a sense of composure leaked through his tone. It was filled with a sense of trust and entrustment.
Iris stroked her chin and muttered while looking at the letter, “If that’s the case, let’s prepare well today and set out tomorrow. I’ll get all the necessary alchemical potions ready, and we should bring the distress item Nino gave us, just in case.”
Having experienced two boss battles, Iris was now extremely cautious, trying to consider everything as soon as possible.
To reach the Phantasmal Peaks, they had to pass through the Sarlan Plains in the center of the continent. The Sarlan Plains were also a place where the Witch Hunt Squad frequently patrolled.
There was no other way. Time waited for no one, and it had been a long time since their mother had appeared in their dreams. Many things might have changed by now. They needed to hurry to the resistance headquarters to regroup with Aunt Rachel and Nino.
Currently both Level 45, the sisters should be able to pass through the Sarlan Plains quickly and effectively while wearing their improved concealment masks. Probably?
—
“You idiots! Is it going to take you half a day just to set up a tent like this?” A fierce man with a scar on his face was berating the miners in front of him.
“I am… deeply sorry, Captain. We haven’t had a full meal in days. We only ate once after coming up from the mine today, we really… have no strength…” a thin, yellow-faced middle-aged man explained weakly.
Sean, the captain of the Witch Hunt Squad, delivered a violent kick to the thin man’s backside. The man fell to the ground and couldn’t get up for a long time as Sean roared ferociously.
“Useless trash! Lord Campbell isn’t feeding you to sit around doing nothing. Your daily mining quotas aren’t being met, so you don’t get to eat. If you think setting up military tents is harder than heavy labor in the mines, I’ll send you back immediately!”
The man scrambled up, crying and kneeling before Sean, desperately pleading, “Forgive me, Captain, please… give me one more chance. Don’t make me go back down into the mines… let me return to my home in Norsen Town…”
“Fine… hurry up! If you do a good job today, I’ll definitely give you your wages and let you go home.” Sean looked down at the miner with contempt, as if he were looking at an insect.
About an hour later, the thin man finished his work and actually received a sum of money from Sean that far exceeded a month’s wages in the mine.
“Ah!! Thank you, Lord Sean! Thank you so much! May the Lord bless you!”
The man took the money with immense joy, but he hadn’t walked far when a sharp slash came from behind. Blood splattered on the ground, and he fell in agony.
The miner thought he had finally escaped those demonic clutches, but the moment he fell, he stared at Sean in utter terror.
The scarred, fierce man was purely toyed with the poor man; everything just now had been Sean’s intentional cruelty. As the nominal captain of the Witch Hunt Squad, he was actually the “black glove” for the Pope and the High Noble Campbell. His reputation within the squad was clearly higher than that of that figurehead Knight Princess.
He had used this miner to finish setting up the camp in Sindal Town at the base of the Tanatzk Great Mine. In his eyes, a miner who had already contracted an unknown illness from the mines was nothing more than a disposable tool.
“Tch, what a money-grubbing waste of space. Come on, boys, let’s head to the restaurant owned by Rudd’s family in town. We have serious business to attend to!”
A subordinate nearby added, “Captain, that man seemed to be one of the two guards from Norsen Town who let the witches escape last time.”
“Oh, is that so? My apologies. I’ve exterminated too many insects like that lately, I really didn’t recognize him. They deserved it back then for letting the witches go. It seems they were sent to the mines along with their families, right?”
The subordinate replied playfully, “Yes, Captain. Out of both families, he was the only one to make it out of the mines alive. Heh, now he can rest easy and reunite with his family underground.”
After ordering a subordinate to sloppily dispose of the miner, Sean wiped the blood from his sword hilt. A low, raspy chuckle escaped his throat as they began to head toward their destination.
On the surface, at least 5,000 or 6,000 miners had entered the Tanatzk Great Mine over the last two years, all of them labor recruited from nearby villages and towns. The High Noble Campbell had promised them generous rewards, monthly home leave, and daily benefits.
In reality, these miners were considered missing. The government, pressured by the High Noble Campbell, had suppressed the matter. Furthermore, Campbell had only fulfilled the promised benefits for the first three months.
Christina had noticed something was wrong, but unfortunately, Campbell and Sean had fooled her with fake accounts. Sean even claimed the miners had been properly settled and that many of them had moved to live in the Elven Forest on the Second Continent. The poor, naive Knight Princess was being played like a fiddle.
At the same time, the witch sisters had crossed the Sarlan Plains and arrived at Sindal Town, preparing to find a restaurant for a hearty meal.
The current Sindal Town was shrouded under invisible dark clouds, like a storm brewing on the horizon.