Chapter 325: The Tin Knight and the Reviving Myth – Lilium
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 325: The Tin Knight and the Reviving Myth – Lilium
The Witch of the South, the youngest of the Four Great Witches, was thus overflowing with vigor.
Displeased with the constant interference of the Heavenly Realm and the Underground in the mortal world, she dreamed of creating a powerful nation free from their meddling.
But reality was harsh.
The witch was wise and powerful, but power itself had a peculiar and subtle nature, and there were far too many problems that could not be solved by her strength alone.
If I fix this, the nation’s food supply will become more abundant. If I change this system, we could use taxes more efficiently.
There were so many things she wanted to fix, but for every one of them, there were even more people who opposed the change.
One day, as the witch was growing weary and the word ‘surrender’ began to cross her mind, a boy appeared.
“So, you are the other ruler, the one who governs this nation from the shadows.”
A boy had sought her out to utter those sudden words.
It was a truly absurd situation.
Though she harbored other goals in her heart, she had spent her days as a loyal subject of the Empire. For him to suddenly accuse her, ‘Are you the real power in this country?’ was an outrageous claim.
For the sake of her own honor, and to avoid arousing the Emperor’s suspicion, the witch had to strictly reprimand the boy, even considering silencing him for good if necessary.
That is, she would have, had the boy not been the Crown Prince of the Empire.
As the witch bowed her head, trying to hide her bewilderment, the boy waved his hand dismissively.
“Ah, do not misunderstand. I didn’t come here to challenge you or anything. That is, unless you were sucking this country’s lifeblood like a parasite. But you’re making it stronger by the day, so a little game of playing ruler is a trivial matter.”
The witch could not hide her astonishment.
The boy’s words and actions were not what one would expect from the Crown Prince of the Empire.
She couldn’t imagine what kind of blind fool had judged this person to be a brave, brilliant successor with the makings of a great king.
“Ah, that? Of course, it’s an act. It is an undeniable truth that my younger brothers are less capable than I, but the inheritance of power is a troublesome affair where someone less worthy could be chosen based on the whims of the predecessor. His Majesty the Emperor is a petty man who is wary of me. A certain amount of theatrics is necessary to avoid showing any weakness.”
After so mercilessly criticizing his own father, the monarch of one of the continent’s most powerful nations, the boy cleared his throat. It was as if everything up to that point had been a mere preamble, and he was now getting to the main point.
“Witch of the South. The Empire is a vast nation. It has expansive territory, abundant resources, and exceptional talent. All the conditions for becoming a great power are in place. And yet, it is throwing all that potential into the garbage bin with the pointless waste that is the war with the Magic State.”
“The warmongers claim that if we just defeat the Magic State, the Empire will seize complete hegemony over the continent, but what idiotic nonsense. The war with the Magic State will only bleed the Empire dry with each passing day. Even if we somehow manage to win, the Empire’s administrative capacity is already stretched to its limit with the territory it currently holds; we wouldn’t be able to properly govern any more land we conquer. And what would happen then? An onlooker who had been watching with their arms crossed would simply stab the exhausted and wounded Empire in the back, and that would be the end of it. Who would do such a thing, you ask? Are you testing me? It would be those holier-than-thou beings in the sky, of course.”
“Witch. I will flip this chessboard. So that the affairs of the mortal world can be decided by those who live in it. So that outside meddlers cannot run rampant as they please. Therefore, I ask you. Glinda Goodwitch. Will you help me—no, will you help Us?”
Hearing the boy’s words, the witch scoffed inwardly.
She had striven to change the Empire for over a hundred years.
The boy’s entire life, and even the rest of his life to come, could not compare to the witch’s efforts.
He’ll try for a few decades, then surely fall into the same sloth and resignation as the other emperors, the witch thought.
To put it bluntly, she was completely mistaken.
The boy ended the war, quelled the internal turmoil, and excised the rot that was slowly forming throughout the body of the nation.
The very things the witch had struggled so desperately to achieve were resolved with incredible ease at the hands of the boy on the throne—no, the man who had now become Emperor.
He possessed neither the outstanding martial prowess of a Lennart nor the immense magical power of the Witch of the South, but his caliber as a ruler was simply overwhelming.
The world called her a great mage, but in her eyes, he was the true great mage.
As the problems that had been blocked by the walls of reality were overcome one by one, the Empire slowly, steadily, began to transform into the ideal nation the witch had envisioned.
Of course, it was still far from perfect, but what mattered was that it was moving toward the goal.
For the first time in her life, the witch regarded a mortal monarch as her true lord.
She came to see his wife as a younger sister and grew attached to the Empire itself, which she had previously seen as merely a tool to be used.
And so, the despair and fury the witch felt when the Emperor suddenly died of illness were beyond words.
The work of the heavens, the witch was certain.
There was no evidence, and all circumstances screamed coincidence, but the witch’s intuition told her otherwise.
She lamented her own foolishness.
She regretted not having investigated more thoroughly when the Emperor’s children had died from various causes.
It was from that moment that the Witch of the South, who had once been active in foreign affairs, never left the imperial capital, always remaining in her place.
So that she could protect the Empress and the Prince at any time. So that they would not lose their lives to some accident with no trace of foul play.
She had two of her four elemental familiars inhabit the bodies of the Empress and the Crown Prince, and she created a clone that shared her consciousness, giving it the public identity of her pupil.
And so, Goodwitch became two.
One of them remained in the imperial palace, protecting those who needed to be protected.
And the other—
*
“—For a former general of the Underground to now be a puppet of the Heavenly Realm. What a pathetic downfall.”
Far below on the ground.
Watching the forest seethe like a swarm of countless ants, Algind delivered her harsh critique.
The situation was difficult, to say the least.
Dryad Lilium.
A general of the Underground who had pushed the dryad’s ability to its absolute limit—the power to make her clones sprout inside the bodies of other living beings and control them at will.
The Tin Knight’s party had once had a similar experience in the Garden, but Lilium’s power was on an entirely different level.
Unlike the green child of the Garden, who could only instill a vague sense of hostility and exclusion toward outsiders, the creatures parasitized by Lilium moved in perfect sync, as if they were a single organism, cornering Algind.
Cawwww!
An immense number of birds of all different kinds flew toward Algind in unison.
Their talons, beaks, and wings were all imbued with mana, carrying enough destructive force to shred not only human flesh but even metal.
The familiar carrying Algind’s body descended, dodging the flock’s assault.
But, as if expecting this, a new army took aim at Algind.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
It was a swarm of bees, ranging in size from a child’s pinky nail to larger than a grown man’s thumb.
The masked familiar tried to put distance between them and Algind, but no matter how it maneuvered through the air, the pursuit of the birds and bees was relentless.
Algind gave a simple command.
“Bard, Gawain. Split.”
Crack!
The mask covering the familiar’s face split into green and blue halves.
Simultaneously, the familiar’s body also divided, re-forming into two smaller figures.
To the now child-sized familiars, Algind issued her orders.
“Bard. Grind all that heavenly rabble to dust.”
『As you wish, Master.』
The green-masked familiar briefly scraped its body against the ground before soaring into the air.
Countless grains of sand, stones, and wood splinters were absorbed into its form, then began to spin madly within a violent wind.
What followed was a sight like the uncovered blades of a spinning blender let loose.
Wherever the green-masked familiar passed, the swarms of bees and birds caught in the wind were mercilessly torn to shreds.
The stones and sand mixed in the wind created corpses, and those corpses created new ones.
A violent, bloody gale raged across the sky.
“Gawain. Don’t let anyone near me.”
『You got it! Leave it to me!』
With those words, Gawain vanished into the ground.
Wild animals like wolves and boars charged at the now-solitary Algind, but water cannons erupted from the earth and blasted them away before they could reach her.
Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Fwoooosh!
Countless holes opened in the ground, and from them, new jets of water continuously shot up.
The water that erupted did not seep back into the ground but instead formed massive droplets that floated gently in the air.
This tremendous mass of water, weighing over a hundred tons, was both the ultimate mace and shield.
A two-meter-tall giant ape with bulging muscles, a pack of wolves whose fur had turned into iron quills, and even an army of trees that moved on their own root-legs and branch-arms—all were struck by the shapeshifting, brute-force mass of water and relentlessly pushed back.
And in their midst, Goodwitch quietly gathered her mana.
Her consciousness was currently split in two.
Her main body, Glinda, was in the capital, on guard against any potential schemes from the Heavenly Realm, while her clone, Algind, was on-site, chanting a spell.
The mana held by Algind and Glinda was split evenly, 50/50, but unlike the main body, which could receive immense support from within the workshop she had created, Algind’s mana had a clear limit.
A handful for the great wind spirit, Bard.
A handful for the great water spirit, Gawain.
Algind was left with only about half of her mana. In contrast, her enemy was Lilium, one of the eight generals, who was exceptionally skilled at self-sufficiency.
Able to suck life force and mana from the ley lines themselves and the creatures she parasitized, she could become a terrestrial disaster, ignoring the constraints of time if left unchecked.
A prolonged battle meant certain defeat.
Of course, Algind didn’t care.
She had no intention of dragging it out in the first place.
Algind’s eyes opened. Without any specific command, her familiars merged back into one, embraced her body, and flew into the air.
The moment Algind’s hand swept downward.
A great vortex of fire erupted in the heart of the forest.
FWOOOOOSH!
The great water spirit had sucked the forest dry, absorbing moisture to its absolute limit, while the great wind spirit fanned the flames with all its might.
The fire became a great conflagration, burning everything in the forest without a trace.
No creature in the forest could survive the heat, and the same went for the plants parasitizing them.
Moreover, the intense mana consumption only occurred at the beginning.
Midway through, the natural environment itself transformed into a catastrophe, incinerating everything cleanly without any further infusion of mana.
Of course, the target, Lilium, had hidden herself underground, so with a bit of luck, she might have survived—
“Gawain. The target?”
『Found her for sure when she burrowed into the ground!』
“Bring her up.”
『Kyahahaha! Leave it to me!』
FWOOOOOOSH!
The forest was parched, all its moisture stolen.
The last remaining stream of water deep underground erupted as a single geyser, forcing the dryad’s body to the surface.
The cool water protected her from the flames for only an instant.
The water on her skin boiled away in a flash, turning to steam, and the ensuing flames engulfed Lilium’s body, setting it ablaze.
Without honor, pride, or dignity.
The remnant left by a transcendent of the past turned to ash before a transcendent of the present.
Algind felt no particular emotion about it.
For her, who stared down the Heavenly Realm, this battle was nothing more than a prelude.
Dryad Lilium VS Algind Goodwitch & the Masked Familiar (Bard/Gawain).
—Winner: Algind Goodwitch & the Masked Familiar (Bard/Gawain).