Chapter 193
Chapter 193
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: The White Knights
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No matter how bright the sunlight, a jungle always harbors shadows.
In that regard, the heart of the city was much like a jungle.
Even in urban areas teeming with CCTV cameras and dashcams, dark corners inevitably form.
One such spot was the long-abandoned drainage tunnel snaking beneath greater Seoul.
It had once served as a conduit, gathering rainwater from the surrounding area to funnel it into the Han River and prevent flooding during typhoons and the like. But it was built too long ago, replaced by newer tunnels, and now lay forgotten and unused.
Of course, this old drainage tunnel was still technically a public facility under the city's management.
However, with a little magical sleight of hand, it could be turned into a blind spot no one would ever find—a place so thoroughly erased from memory that its very existence was forgotten.
-Clack, clack.
Underground, 45 meters deep.
The massive concrete walls, over ten meters in diameter, amplified even the sound of her high heels.
Moldy nonwoven fabric hung in tatters from the walls, and the tunnel reeked of stagnant, rainwater-soaked decay.
Della Redcliff navigated the darkness relying solely on the faint glow of her ornamental light.
-Rumble, roar!
Above ground, a typhoon raged, sending torrents of rainwater cascading like waterfalls into the few drainage channels still in operation.
Della rounded a corner into a vast, shadowy cavern, her brow furrowing at the deafening roar of rushing water echoing from afar.
No, the noise wasn't the only reason for her grimace.
"Haa..."
She tossed back her proud red hair and crossed her arms with a scowl.
It was the sharp tang of blood cutting through the already muggy stench.
She conjured a few more ornamental lights, illuminating the entire cavern in a bright glow.
At the center of the cylindrical chamber stood a large altar.
Lying atop it in rows were people staring blankly at the ceiling, their souls seemingly stolen away.
"This is exactly why I didn't want to come... Still the same as ever, Paula Sochitl."
Hunched atop the altar was a witch idly toying with a dagger, her expression blank.
With the precision of a seasoned surgeon, she sliced open chests, severed ribs, and extracted hearts one by one.
The Coward Witch, Paula Sochitl—half her face a mangled ruin—silently lifted her gaze to Della.
"...Long time no see, Della."
But only for a moment. Paula resumed her work in silence.
One heart extracted, then the next, and the next—in seconds, she had them all.
It took less than ten minutes for the thirty-two men and women on the altar to breathe their last.
Della waited without intervening or saying a word.
Before Duke Keter founded Gehenna and made such a fuss, human sacrifices and body experiments were commonplace among witches. They weren't unheard of even among exiles in the modern world, though Gehenna itself forbade them.
"Still continuing your experiments?"
"It's all I have left."
Paula gestured, and a rift tore open in the air.
Parts of a homunculus body jutted out from its pocket dimension, snatching up the remnants on the altar.
A greedy munching sound echoed through the chamber.
"So why drag me to a filthy place like this?"
"Can't a friend drop by to see another friend after all this time?"
"We both know that's not why you called."
"Haha!"
Paula twisted her unmarred half into a laugh—or what passed for one, grotesque enough that it was hard to call it laughter, more like gravel scraping.
As the sound faded, she spread her arms wide to welcome her old friend.
"Welcome to my temporary workshop. No fancy desserts or fragrant tea, though."
Della's nose wrinkled.
"So what is it? You never reply to messages otherwise."
"To warn you."
"Warn me?"
As Della blinked in confusion at the cryptic words, Paula snapped her fingers.
The space in the cavern ripped open, revealing a homunculus bound tight in chains.
-Grrrrowl...
A massive red suit of armor over two meters tall.
A crimson spear at least five meters long.
Fifteen pairs of eyes.
Its form writhed violently, like a mantis trapped in a spider's web desperately trying to escape. Della knew it well by reputation.
"...The Red Knight?"
"Yes. As you can see, I haven't fully subjugated it yet. Remarkable thing. Even weakened as it is, it ignores fifty hearts I offered."
Paula snapped her fingers again, and the rift closed like a curtain.
Her self-generating magic specialized in controlling homunculi.
Most succumbed the moment their eyes met hers, unable to resist.
"Kids who've lived a long time always have strong egos. They just won't settle down."
"This isn't why you called me, right? It's just your usual routine."
What Della had witnessed so far was too mundane to warrant summoning her for a 'warning.'
A vague unease stirred in her.
"See the spear it was holding?"
"The red one?"
"Yes. With the 'Distortion' contained in that Red Branch, I might be able to twist causality and logic itself. Miracles beyond ordinary magic might not be a dream."
"And?"
Della listened calmly to Paula's words.
"But my methods so far can't tame it. Even if I forcibly take that Red Branch and wield it, it won't match what this one can do."
"Probably not."
Della nodded, unable to hide her reluctance. Paula grinned wickedly before her.
Obsession bordering on madness gleamed in her crescent-moon eye.
"So I'm trying something I've never attempted before. You might get caught up, so best to leave for a while. That's my warning."
Della always felt uneasy around her old friend.
Not just because Paula was a public enemy.
No matter what others said, Della remembered the kinder Paula of old.
What she lacked was just a sliver of courage. Nothing more.
Della hesitated, then spoke.
"Isn't it time to stop? Sounds funny coming from me, but sometimes you have to know when to give up."
A killing glare stabbed into her chest.
Paula, who had been laughing merrily moments ago, now fixed Della with a chilling stare, her expression flipping like a palm.
Still, Della pressed on.
Even if it was too late to turn back, watching a friend wallow in pointless atonement was painful.
"Paula, there's no magic to revive the dead. Not even the Creation Witch could do it. Distortion or not, it'll be the same."
"I don't need your honest advice. Shut your mouth if you don't want to die."
"I'm not here to fight. I just... haa... sorry."
Della apologized readily to Paula's razor-sharp reaction.
She hadn't come to quarrel, after all.
With her apology, Paula let the remark slide.
"Go on. So what exactly are you planning?"
"Well..."
Paula's lips twitched.
Della, braced for almost anything, slowly opened her mouth wide.
She stared at Paula with trembling eyes.
"If you start something like that... Duke Keter will move."
"That sounds good too."
"No, if she moves, even you..."
Will die.
Della swallowed the rest.
Paula knew it too.
Was she seeking her own grave?
Or was this the final spasm to end over a century of agonizing penance?
Della had no answer.
"I won't stop you. But don't think I'll go along with it. I'm a baron of Gehenna, after all."
"Just watch out so you don't get dragged in. Because we're friends."
The word 'friends' hit her chest like a weight.
A brief reverie.
This might be the last glimpse Della had of Paula—broken beyond repair. Memories overlaid of their Trinity Academy days, bickering together.
"Hoo..."
Della stomped her heel, summoning an otherworld barrier as relay formulas spiderwebbed outward.
Paula watched blankly, as if unsure what Della was doing.
Paula would know.
Della couldn't cast large-scale magic until the relays fully spread.
But Paula saw her as a friend, never suspecting sudden hostility.
"Want to go, then?"
-Grrowl.
-Screee... Keeek...
Belatedly, space tore open behind Paula.
From what must have been dozens of pocket dimensions came shrieks and murmurs of tearing beasts.
A sight worthy of the Witch of a Thousand Hands.
"If this is the end, at least I'll finish you myself."
What Paula planned wasn't research or magic.
Just a final thrash, dragging innocents along as company.
Sacrifices for study were one thing—this was slaughter.
If Duke Keter would kill her gruesomely anyway, better Della give her a proper send-off.
"........."
Paula looked shocked, or perhaps deeply depressed, having read Della's resolve.
"You never did understand me."
"I do, that's why I'm doing this."
"Don't wanna hear it."
Paula bit her lip and turned away.
One by one, her tamed homunculi began crawling out.
"Taollara."
Della's hair whipped as red mana reflections bathed the surroundings like molten lava.
She was at full strength.
And this cramped chamber gave the flame-wielder Della a tactical edge.
-Kieeeek!
-Screeeee!
Corpse-beetle beasts, octopus-like horrors, wild dog mutants, Siamese twin abominations—each unleashed varied magics against Della, to no avail.
Her crimson waves, exceeding tens of millions of degrees, reduced all obstacles to ash.
With her deployment formula perfectly active, Della chained massive spells without breaking a sweat.
She hadn't even used a tenth of her mana.
The battle's flow, the terrain, their matchups—all favored Della with a smile.
Soon, the dozen-plus homunculi were burned or melted away.
Paula watched silently, without a hint of regret.
"Why just send these weaklings at me?"
Still, Della frowned.
No multi-eyed ones exceeding ten eyes since the start.
No matter how enhanced, Paula knew better than anyone these fodder couldn't trip her up.
"I've been waiting."
"For what?"
"For my toy soldiers to finish."
Then it hit Della.
The hearts freshly extracted and placed on the altar were gone.
"You'll have fun too."
As Paula laughed in self-abandonment, metallic clanks rang out—armor clashing.
From the warped space stepped armored homunculi.
Identical to the Red Knight, save for their pure white plating.
Their number exactly matched the sacrifices Della had just used? No—the ones Paula had.
"Homunculus 'duplication' research wrapped up recently. Like you said, no need for weaklings. Keep the strongest one as the base, offer sacrifices, and duplicate as many as you want."
Della felt no real threat.
Duplication?
So what?
Ten, a thousand—burn them all the same.
"Taollara."
With a casual wave, flames surged again, engulfing the armor.
Thinking metal would endure? Mistake.
No metal could resist Della's blaze.
Or so she thought.
But cloaked in fire, the White Knights didn't flinch.
They advanced like drilled soldiers, massive shields forward, forming a wall to block the inferno.
"What...?"
"Duplicates are far weaker than the original, but they inherit its traits. You know the Red Knight bears the 'Distortion Guardian' drawn from the Red Branch?"
As Paula said, Della's flames couldn't touch the shields.
Trapped like plasma in a tokamak, they flickered in place, exhausting mana and vanishing.
As the fire cleared, the White Knights leveled their spears at Della in perfect unison.
"Sorry it came to this, Della. I thought of you as a friend."
Paula turned her back, and the White Knights charged.