Chapter 410
Chapter 410
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 410
Chapter Title: Harvest Festival (3)
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1.
A bizarre incident had occurred.
The Alcoriza Familia, notorious across South America.
On the birthday of their cartel boss, Don Alcoriza, over ten thousand members had gathered in one place at the same time.
No matter how lofty their power, it was unprecedented for a criminal organization's members to assemble so brazenly in plain sight, drawing the attention of the military, police, and various intelligence agencies alike.
They judged it a powder keg on the verge of erupting into war.
Having prepared for contingencies and even mobilizing military satellites to surround and monitor the mansion, they witnessed history's greatest mystery unfold.
All those members and Don Alcoriza himself had vanished overnight, without a single drop of blood left behind.
The highest echelons of power did not want the existence of Transcenders revealed to the public.
Thus, incidents caused by witches were typically covered up by national authorities.
Yet no matter how much overwhelming authority and mystical power were brought to bear, it was impossible to silence every major media outlet, foreign press, and eyewitness account.
Especially in South America, where Location Point held almost no sway.
News outlets across nations dubbed this absurd disappearance the "Dawn Curse Incident" and splashed it across front pages, even dedicating entire news channels to it.
Rumors flew—from claims that Alcoriza was a devil worshiper who sacrificed his men as offerings, to nonsense about the U.S. military colluding with the Mexican government to wipe out cartel leaders using unauthorized biological weapons and playing dumb.
But to a witch who knew the full story, it was amusing to hear some pompous scholar spout such drivel as if it were gospel.
"Humans are just so entertaining~ Even when something defies common sense, they cram it back into that neat little box."
The witch in nun's robes—Dorothy Sahaquiel, famed as the Cross Witch—gazed at the TV with amusement, casually crossing her legs.
To her left sat Clech Asmode, the Pure Blood Witch. To her right, Rinne Samakiel, the Sword Witch.
Public Enemies from Cliffort who had gathered at Bianca's behest in Saint Rey Mexico City not long ago.
They had convened to discuss Bianca's death and this "Dawn Curse" incident.
No one present had witnessed Bianca's death firsthand, but all were convinced of it.
A Public Enemy of Bianca's caliber wouldn't let her enterprises be touched so easily.
Had she been alive, she never would have allowed such a mess, and would have unleashed terrifying retaliation immediately.
Yet with ample time passed and no sign of her—not even a glimpse—it meant two things.
Bianca Bellrille was dead.
But the Kether Duke hadn't purged her.
Had the Kether Duke been active, she never would have overlooked a massive incident like ten thousand disappearances right under her nose.
She would have appeared and slain them before they could even attempt it.
"She died like an idiot~ But at least she proved Lilith wasn't lying before she went."
"The Kether Duke can't move? Incomprehensible."
"Maybe she's just tired of playing cop~? More than that, I'm curious how Location Point will respond."
"Those cowards won't move first. They'll sit back and watch leisurely."
"……."
As they exchanged views,
Dorothy and Rinne noticed one Public Enemy sitting there with her mouth clamped shut like a clam.
Since the discussion began, Clech had been staring at her toes, fists clenched tight.
"No way."
Her teeth ground together with a crunch as she snapped her head up, eyes bulging with burst blood vessels in a fearsome glare.
"That insolent bitch Bianca couldn't have died like some pathetic fool."
Lingering in her gaze was a deadly aura that would stop a normal human's heart on sight.
Killing intent honed sharp as a blue blade swirled through the room.
But those gathered here weren't the type to cower at such a display.
"Who knows? For you~ it might be a good thing~? No more getting shaken down by Bianca."
"Shut your mouth! You big-titted whore!"
Clech had always been foul-mouthed, but this roar carried a raw, heartfelt anguish.
Setting aside their rivalry over business territories, both Dorothy and Rinne knew.
Clech's feelings for Bianca bordered on love-hate.
Even if Bianca had sucked her dry and discarded her ruthlessly, they had once been lovers—enough to provoke such a violent reaction.
"Pointless venting. She volunteered as the lab rat herself. You agreed too."
Clech had endorsed sending Bianca to her death, but only because of her unshakeable faith.
Faith that Bianca Bellrille would return alive from any peril.
That faith had shattered with the bad news, revealing it as mere blind devotion.
"How touching~ So you fall for bad girls, huh?"
"I'll kill them. Whoever it is, I'll kill the bastard."
In the end, Clech's burst vessels lost control, blood tears streaming down her face.
Dorothy shrugged and glanced at Rinne.
They weren't close enough for comforting pats on the back.
They had planned to discuss merging and divvying up Bianca's leftover enterprises, but broaching that with Clech in this state might spark a real fight.
Instead, Dorothy calculated how to exploit Clech's rage for maximum profit.
"Hmm~ Then I'll help with your revenge too. Bianca was our friend, after all."
"I'll assist as well. Finding Bianca's killer should suffice, right?"
"...Cut the disgusting crap."
Clech bared her teeth, of course.
She couldn't trust anyone here, despite their formidable intelligence networks from running massive underworld empires.
"Can't take it on good faith~ You'd feel dirty too. Pony up some cash. You'll absorb the Familia anyway~ Least you can show is some sincerity?"
"You're too worked up. Contact us when you've calmed and decided."
"Yeah~ Reliable partners like us are rare."
"Get out! Get the fuck out now! Shit... goddamn...!"
As Clech raged, spewing filth,
the room fell ghost-silent.
Just like last meeting, the Cross Witch and Sword Witch here weren't corporeal.
They had manifested partial true bodies using human sacrifices as mediums.
"Aaaah! Aaaaaah!"
Clech's hand, overcome by fury, smashed the head of a dying human foaming at the mouth.
A dull crack, and the head burst like a rotten tomato, brains splattering.
Staring at the thick blood, Clech wailed a scream like torment.
"Bianca... Bianca... my Bianca...."
She didn't care about the massive fees gouged from her.
Even if Bianca exploited her with absurd markups.
If she could prove herself a valuable witch to Bianca this way, someday she'd turn back...
But now, that icy gaze and smile.
That mocking perch atop her head, even.
All gone forever. Utterly ended.
"Hic... h-heuk...."
In the pitch-black room, only Clech's sobs and the drip of viscous fluids from the shattered head echoed.
2.
Eloa set the letter down.
[...For these reasons, I humbly request your assistance, my lady. I await your reply.]
Elegant brush-script calligraphy filled four sheets of wide hanji paper.
Accompanied by a thick dossier of photos and documents.
It was a letter from Sua Branch Chief.
Communication and exchange between Gehenna and the mortal world was rarely immediate.
Days after the Witch of Desire's death, her subordinate Alcoriza Familia had collapsed.
Nearly ten thousand members vanished overnight—via magic.
Purpose presumed: sacrificial offerings.
Perpetrator: unknown.
Despite such an event, Gehenna blithely prepared for the Harvest Festival.
Just as they ignored civil wars on the neighboring continent to live their daily lives, mortal world happenings were dismissed as irrelevant, hands clasped behind backs.
But Eloa couldn't do that.
Hadn't she promised Rafi?
To protect the innocent from harm.
Moreover, Eloa and certain high-ranking witches knew from experience.
The mortal world's chaos would inevitably affect Gehenna one day.
And this incident's scale was too vast for even Eloa—the founder of Location Point—to overlook.
A far cry from the recent rampage by the Cowardice Witch.
They hadn't bothered with cover-ups at all, and with major media coverage, it had crossed far beyond the pale.
Yet no visible purge had followed.
This implied the collapse of witch society's greatest unwritten rule.
Prudent Public Enemies would watch longer, but those who had toiled in the Kether Duke's shadow might now strut more boldly on their tightrope.
Whether the Kether Duke remained inactive was uncertain.
However.
What if the Kether Duke truly couldn't move?
If the iron ruler who enforced blood-written laws had abandoned her discipline for some reason—or lost the power to uphold the rules?
Someone had to take up that mantle.
The steely sovereign to貫徹 those laws.
To wield the blade of purge in her stead.
Eloa spread a blank sheet.
She had met Si-woo, lived blissful days unimaginable after Rafi's death.
Overflowing with endearing moments.
The Harvest Festival was three days away.
Her time with Si-woo, settled by the Council of Fair Distribution, was tomorrow.
Hoping for just one more day of peace, Eloa penned her reply.