“…I knew that old man had ill intentions toward me!”
The witch Reese let out a sharp cry of pain and suddenly woke up from the bed.
The first thing she did upon waking was curse at that hypocritical old man who was far away in the council.
Her young and beautiful face twisted with anger, and the chandelier above cast a heavy shadow over her forehead.
Reese wiped the blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, then stretched her pale legs off the bed and slipped them into her leather boots.
“I have to leave Caesania as soon as possible… Hmph, that old man would never suspect that the thing I gave him was incomplete.”
The witch grabbed the staff placed at her bedside and waved it in the air. The black paint she had drawn on the walls—the symbols, writings, and ritual circles—instantly vanished, restoring the room to a state as if no one had ever been there.
Several corpses she had cruelly slaughtered, now piled as sacrifices beside the bed, ignited into flames.
Before long, the fire would spread and cause a terrifying blaze.
This was the inn she was “staying” at temporarily.
The city was under martial law now. If someone like her appeared in broad daylight, she would inevitably be interrogated and questioned. Without some diversionary tactics, she might as well sprout wings and fly out of Caesania.
Those third- and second-rank knights and city guards were no match for her, but their sheer numbers, combined with the Empire’s rapid advances in firearms, meant that even a seasoned Desecrator like Solis would be skinned alive several times over.
Not to mention that old dog Palter and that strange Baron Freeman… If things got serious, they might even bring in the “Black Sword” and those damned Soulless.
The ability to completely suppress the Sea of Souls was no joke.
Reese remembered when Solis talked about how the Soulless had once destroyed the Hand of Truth, she almost betrayed the Lord of Fate again.
Back in that underground ritual chamber, after Solis, with an intense expression, left Reese the words, “I’m going to personally execute the traitor. Once you finish your task, leave on your own. I’ll meet up with you later,” he lost all contact.
Reese naturally did not trust the remnants of the Hand of Truth either.
After all, to ensure her loyalty, Solis had forcibly branded her with the Raven mark.
But what the Hand of Truth didn’t know was that the Lord of Fate had quietly helped her by reversing the control runes in that brand, allowing her to manipulate the lives of the Hand of Truth instead.
Unfortunately, this power hadn’t even warmed up before it became useless.
It was no surprise that old Solis was taken out by the Soulless.
…Hmph, thinking about it, if Solis could have killed the Soulless, would the Lord of Fate have reacted with such disgusted retching whenever mentioning him?
Not to mention he seemed entangled with a Saintess of the Holy Church. Judging by that, the few people Solis brought along probably weren’t even enough to be a minor annoyance.
Those overestimating fools deserved to die.
Reese’s original plan was to use her bargaining chips to pit the Hand of Truth and Baron Freeman’s forces against each other in a death match, so she could quietly escape with the “inheritance.”
Of course, the process deviated quite a bit, but fortunately, the outcome was right, and her wariness of Palter was confirmed perfectly, aligning flawlessly with the path the Lord of Fate had indicated—and with her own judgment.
This made Reese even more confident.
From now on, she would sow seeds of chaos in this world, carrying out the Lord of Fate’s schemes.
She already knew that true knowledge was her own destiny.
To glimpse the perfect future, she was willing to pay any price.
Hmph, no matter how brilliant the Witch Academy prodigy was, it could never predict fate, right?
But she was different!
She was no mediocre talent! She would truly seize control of her own destiny!
Reese firmly believed this.
“Phew… Although I’m out of everyone’s sight for now, I still can’t relax.”
Cautious, careful, and calculating—this had been her secret to surviving countless pursuers since her defection from the Witch clan.
Trust no one. Everyone was a tool to be used, and if necessary, even selling her own body was not out of the question—
But unfortunately, no one had pushed Reese to that point yet.
“The only thing left now is to wait. That sick old dog Palter will foolishly think that sacrifices and faith alone can bring their false god to descend… As long as he makes enough of a commotion, whatever little tricks I pull won’t attract the likes of the ‘Black Sword’ or the Soulless.”
Reese tidied her clothes, gently pulled her hood over her head, and looked toward the window, tightly covered by heavy curtains.
“I wonder what kind of fate the Master will reveal to me after leaving Caesania… I’m truly looking forward to it.”
A day passed uneventfully.
After Losern arrived just in time to interrupt Selulu’s sexual harassment, and at Loki’s strong insistence, two more beds were sent over.
When leaving, Losern gave Loki a long look of “Are you even a man?” before shaking his head with regret and departing.
…Damn it, Selulu really destroyed my reputation.
This was the first thought Loki had upon waking the next day.
After informing Losern about Reese’s situation, the imperial agent’s expression immediately turned so dark it could squeeze out a bucket of ink.
Damn it. If it were just old Palter playing with fire on his own, or the Hand of Truth merely trying to restart the ritual, it would be one thing.
But to think they actually produced a witch who could replicate the ritual and potentially spread it? Losern definitely didn’t believe it was without the Lord of Fate’s interference.
That witch might even be a brand-new Chosen.
The Great Lords didn’t just select any mortal they fancied to represent them in the mortal realm.
Though the Empire was vast enough, it was still only one part of the world—other countries were, in most cases, filthy rags not worth a foot wipe, rampant with all sorts of strange religions, many of whose leaders could be called “Chosen.”
On the side of the Holy Church, the equivalents were the Saintess or the Paladin.
Precisely because of this, the main battlefield for the Holy Church was often outside the Empire.
Though occasional rebellions flared up here and there, the Empire remained largely stable overall…
Therefore, the best way to protect the Empire was to keep chaos at the borderlands.
Slow expansion and subjugation of vassals were the Empire’s vital strategies to prevent a mass infiltration of foreign Desecrators.
Just defending one’s own patch of land would inevitably put one on the defensive; taking the initiative was the only way to completely eliminate those malignant tumors of modest scale.
…Of course, the premise was that the Empire wouldn’t be plagued by chaos spreading everywhere internally.
For five years, Christine and Loki had roamed the Empire, laying the groundwork for new wars abroad—for after all, having a magnet to attract Desecrators wherever it was placed was a treasure not to be wasted.
In truth, Losern understood very well.
Christine herself was actually a gift the Empire used to lure the Soulless.