CHAPTER 89

North, inside a small fortress inhabited by only five thousand people—survivors who, after the fall of the capital, had locked themselves within the watchtower fortress due to the harsh environment beyond the walls. They clung to the hope that someone from the north would rise and lead them in a rebellion. However, such hope was futile, as there was no one in the north with the courage to command an uprising. Everyone had chosen to flee, and those within the fortress had only latched onto this hope because they had no means of escape.

Inside the fortress, in a place where several Valkyries stood, a discussion was taking place about controlling food consumption and ration storage.

"The hunting groups are catching fewer and fewer prey every day! This has never happened before! Something out there is either hunting or scaring the animals away!"

"Evil spirits move swiftly. If it's them, there's nothing we can do!"

"We need to reduce the population! The food in our storage will only last a week at this rate!"

"Even with only one meal a day, it's not enough!"

The fortress officials desperately sought a way to save themselves and those around them. The next day, the fortress gates opened, and four thousand civilians were sent out under the pretense of gathering snow mushrooms and hunting animals. However, these civilians were no match for the trained hunting groups, and sending them out in search of food was equivalent to sentencing them to death. Yet, even if they had known they were being sent to their deaths, they had no choice—it was not a request but an order. If they stayed, they would be executed for disobeying the lords. And even if they were not executed, they would soon die of starvation.

At that time, as the group searched for food, none of them knew they were being watched by thousands of eyes. Only when night fell did the lords standing atop the fortress gate—faces pale with fear—realize that none of the four thousand had returned. With a thousand guards stationed on the walls, they prepared for the worst.

"Damn it!"

"Don't tell me we've attracted the spirits' attention?!"

"We should have killed them!"

"Lower your voice!"

The four lords stood together. Only their families remained in the fortress, while the families of all the guards had been among the four thousand sent outside.

Some of the guards, along with the Snow Elves and several Valkyries, glared at them in anger.

"There!!!"

"What is that!!"

Hundreds of soldiers shouted and began beating their drums against the walls as torches were hurled into the darkness to illuminate the suspicious movement.

"Prepare for battle!!!!"

The commanders roared from the depths of their lungs. The reflection of hundreds of thousands of glowing eyes from the shadows of the trees shattered the morale of many soldiers. Yet, there was no escape.

As one torch landed at the feet of the largest creature among them, its form became clear—a massive beast with the head of a lion. Atop its back sat a figure of epic stature, radiating a powerful aura of death. Raising his spear toward the fortress, he let out a battle cry, signaling the charge of countless agile hellcats into the fortress.

"May the gods have mercy on us!"

"Pray for salvation!!"

"Fight!"

Some soldiers, overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers, turned to prayer for their souls, while others fired arrows and spears from the walls. But their defense was futile. In mere seconds, bodies were cleaved in half, and the enormous hellcats, mocking the seven-meter-high walls, leaped up and tore through the defenders.

The fortress, which had once held off monster hordes for days, was now collapsing at an alarming speed. The four lords had lost all hope of survival.

"Look up!"

"It's them!!"

"They've come to save us!!!"

A wave of airborne figures riding enchanted staffs filled the sky, giving the remaining soldiers a fleeting glimmer of hope. Millions of witches soared above, led by a single, legendary figure known throughout the north—Cersia, the Witch of the Night, and the general of the Witches' Headquarters.

"The Witch of the Night!!!!"

The soldiers cheered for the northern hero. With her immense power, equal to that of a Warlord, and the sheer number of witches, repelling the monster horde was no longer impossible.

However, as the soldiers were being slaughtered by the hellcats, the advancing army of witches showed no sign of stopping to help.

"Why are they leaving?!"

"Come back!!!"

"You traitorous witches, return!!!"

The last men and women of the fortress screamed at the top of their lungs before being torn apart by the hellcats' claws and fangs.

Meanwhile, in the sky, leading the formation, Cersia, the Witch General—who now called herself their queen—looked down at the doomed fortress.

"I will not sacrifice my sisters for another day of your survival."

She had been forced to flee with all her people and treasures when the Abyssal Spirits neared the Witches' Headquarters. Now, she sought a new home, far from the Nightmare Demon King, who left no living being in his wake.

"In the south, does that Undead Demon King treat witches well?"

Beside her, a witch from Hazard's forces, who had returned to the north after making a contract for adventure, spoke. However, upon returning, she found there was no home left to return to—the north had fallen. She had only heard rumors that the southern Undead Demon King took witches into his service.

"He treats us better than any dark lord we've ever worked with. At first, it's a land filled with death and harsh conditions, but my sisters live comfortably there and are satisfied with the resources available to them."

Hearing this, Cersia gently stroked her twin rabbit-like braids. She was eager to meet this Undead Demon King and find a new home for her fellow witches—one that could shelter the fifty million witches who had gathered since leaving the northern territories.

"If he grants us refuge, it will be good. If not, we will seek asylum in an empire province."

The witch beside her shuddered.

"I'd rather live among the dead than with those perverts who would drag me into their dungeons!"

The others laughed, for they all knew of the depraved desires of some noblemen and powerful merchants. At times, witches had been targeted for assault, but such attempts had always ended in failure—met with fierce retaliation. Many castles and noble estates had been reduced to ruins due to the arrogant whims of certain individuals. The empire had often cited these incidents in its justifications for waging war against the north.