Chapter 239: Dark Snow White?
At this moment, Jon stood among the commoners at the city gates. A long red carpet stretched from the gates all the way to the palace, flanked by the gathered townsfolk who eagerly awaited the King. Soon, the King would emerge from the palace, walk down the red carpet, and lead his army to the frontlines.
"What a spectacle... so theatrical," Jon thought to himself, unimpressed.
His gaze then shifted toward a distant tower. From there, he felt a distinct surge of magical energy, and not long ago, he had sensed the fading of multiple life forces from that direction.
"Excuse me," Jon turned to the same local he'd spoken with earlier, "Can you tell me what that tower is for?"
"Oh, you mean the Iron Tower?" the man replied with a smile. "That place is where they imprison witches. It's said the entire tower is made of pure iron, laced with anti-magic runes. Witchcraft can't be used inside at all."
"Imprison witches?" Jon asked with confusion. "But didn't the King issue an edict for witch hunts, burn them on sight? Why go through the trouble of building a tower to imprison them?"
The man looked momentarily stunned but then shrugged. "No idea. But it's royal business, not something we common folk should question. I'm sure His Majesty has his reasons."
It was likely many in the city shared this sentiment, but none dared dig deeper. As long as their own lives remained comfortable, they were content to stay silent.
Naturally, this piqued Jon's curiosity even more. He decided he'd definitely visit the tower when he had the chance.
For now, however, he stayed put. He wanted to witness the legendary Snow Queen for himself. With so much praise surrounding her beauty, his interest was genuinely stirred.
"Look! The King is coming out!"
The crowd erupted in excitement. From the distance, a man clad in shining silver armor, wearing a steel crown and bearing a massive sword at his hip, appeared. Mounted on a white steed, the young-looking King Kirk rode down the red carpet.
Cheers and flowers filled the air as the King made his way toward the gate, eyes fixed ahead.
Jon frowned. "That's the King? Why does he look so young?"
He couldn't be more than twenty-something, yet by all accounts, he should be at least in his forties. Then again, if the King looked this youthful, maybe the Queen would too. Jon felt a flicker of hope.
As the King approached the city gate, he halted, clearly waiting for someone.
"It's her! It's the Queen! Snow White!"
Unlike the King's arrival, the moment the Queen appeared, a hush fell over the crowd. No one made a sound as they watched her step into view.
A tall, elegant figure in a snow-white gown slowly made her way forward. The atmosphere grew tense, breathless.
Jon finally caught sight of her face.
"Wait... this is the legendary Snow Queen? Nice figure, sure... but why the hell is she Black?!"
This was supposed to be the renowned Snow White? A Black woman?! Where exactly was the Snow White everyone raved about? Wasn't she git the title of Snow White due to her snow like white skin?
However, who cares. This world was the Dark Fairy Tale world anyway.
The Queen walked down the red carpet, her every step met with adoration. Jon looked around and realized the people surrounding him were gazing at her like she was a dream come true.
He could barely hold back his curiousness.
He turned to the local next to him, his voice incredulous. "You're sure... that's Snow White?"
By now, the Queen had reached the King. The two embraced passionately.
The man next to him gave him a strange look. "Of course she is. Who else could be as breathtaking as our Snow Queen?"
"Breathtaking? Yes, but Snow White? Definitely not."
His words caused an immediate backlash. The man gasped, stumbling back like he'd just witnessed blasphemy. Pointing a shaking finger, he shouted, "This man, he dares insult Her Majesty the Snow Queen! Arrest him! Burn him at the stake!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, dozens of eyes snapped to Jon with murderous intent.
"Seize him!"
In an instant, the crowd lunged at him like a crazed mob.
But this was Jon. With all his power, he didn't even need to transform to handle a group of crazed villagers.
"Come on then, blind fools! Let me beat the sense back into your skulls!"
One punch after another, Jon knocked them down like bowling pins.
He thought subduing the first wave would scare the rest off. He was wrong. It was like they'd taken adrenaline shots. They just kept coming.
"What the hell?! Why are you so pissed?!"
Just then, a deep, commanding voice rang out.
"Enough!"
King Kirk had noticed the disturbance. He strode over and ordered the mob to stop.
Instantly, the townsfolk backed away and cleared a path.
The King looked Jon up and down, then turned to one of the citizens.
"What happened here?"
"Your Majesty," the man said, bowing low, "we were simply sending you and our gorgeous Snow Queen off when this... this man dared to insult her aloud! Please, Your Grace, let justice be done! He must be burned!"
The moment the people cried out that Jon had insulted Queen, the king's expression darkened, his cold gaze sweeping toward him.
"Is what they say true?" the king asked in a flat tone.
Before Jon could even answer, the king glanced at the unconscious bodies sprawled across the ground, clearly the result of Jon's earlier brawl.
His face changed again. As a seasoned knight himself, the king knew well the limits of human strength. No matter how much one trained, it was impossible for a single man to defeat an army, or even a dozen men, singlehandedly. But here were at least ten unconscious citizens, and Jon barely looked winded.
In this world, the only ones capable of such physical prowess were...
Without another word, the king drew his sword and pointed it at Jon, snarling, "You're a cursed witch!"
Jon rolled his eyes. "Not only are these people blind to right and wrong, they can't even tell the difference between a man and a woman?"
"Then you're a rare warlock," the king snapped coldly. "I never expected someone like you to storm into the capital and cause chaos. Today, I'll see you locked away in the Iron Tower, for the rest of your life!"
Just then, the queen, whose very presence struck Jon as absurdly contradictory to her title, began to approach.
She laid her gloved hands gently on the king's shoulders, her voice raspy like a proper old witch. "Calm down, my dear. The frontlines need you. While you're away, I'll govern the kingdom, as always. Let me deal with this matter myself."
Her tone alone made Jon cringe. Not because of who she was—but because everything about her screamed contradiction and theatricality.
"Oh my God, the Queen is so gentle!"
"She's so beautiful! This is the closest I've ever been to her, I'm so lucky!"
"Oh heavens, I think I'm going to faint!"
"You people are beyond saving," he muttered in utter disbelief. "Are you blind or just hypnotized by pageantry?"
The crowd glared at him with murderous eyes. If the king and queen hadn't been standing there, Jon was sure they'd have torn him apart already.
The queen gave him a cold look, a hint of killing intent in her gaze. Then she turned to the king. "Go on, my love. Don't let this thrivial matter delay you. I'll personally see to it that he's imprisoned in the Iron Tower."
The king gave Jon a cold final glance. He clearly wanted to kill him himself but ultimately listened to the queen. After a nauseating public kiss, he departed with the crowd watching reverently.
"Take him away. I'll question him myself later," the queen ordered coldly.
Jon didn't resist. After all, she'd just mentioned locking him up in the Iron Tower, and Jon had been itching to see what was inside anyway. Now he had a free ticket.
Two of her guards stepped forward, expertly binding Jon in iron chains, clearly they'd done this to many witches before.
And so, what was meant to be a grand farewell ceremony had been completely ruined, by one man who couldn't stop stirring up trouble.
Soon after, Jon was dragged down into the royal dungeons. Along the way, a man dressed like a priest stopped them and cast some kind of spell on his shackles.
Apparently, this was an anti-magic curse. Once cast, it prevented any form of magic, dark or white, from being used. A bane to all magic users.
To clarify: this world didn't discriminate against all magic users, only witches. Witches were seen as unnatural, born not of mankind but something else. Their powers, which required no incantations or tools, terrified ordinary people. Envy and fear had led to centuries of persecution.
Just like in the Marvel universe, where Avengers were celebrated but mutants like the X-Men were shunned, witches were feared for being too powerful. So while regular mages used white magic and studied their entire lives to reach limited power, witches wielded black magic innately.
The reason the king immediately assumed Jon was a witch instead of a regular mage? Simple. Normal mages needed staffs, spells, or rituals to activate magic. Witches could cast with just a thought. And someone like Jon, who could knock out ten people effortlessly? That screamed black magic.
Jon didn't know exactly where he was being taken, but it definitely wasn't the Iron Tower. It looked like a deep, subterranean dungeon designed for high-risk prisoners.
There were six levels in total. He was escorted all the way to the sixth, the deepest.
They shoved him into a narrow, dark cell and left. No doubt guards were stationed heavily outside.
Jon wondered why they hadn't sent him straight to the Iron Tower. Then he remembered, Queen said she wanted to interrogate him personally.
"Hehehe... It's been a long time since we've had a new face down here."
A raspy voice drifted from the neighboring cell. The speaker sounded like he hadn't spoken in years.
Jon ignored him and instead focused on analyzing the priest's anti-magic curse.
This spell's got some bite, he thought. Most of my magic's sealed. Can't use anything from the Harry Potter world. Even the Kamar-Taj spells are heavily suppressed. But... the Darkhold's magic? Totally unaffected. And Ghost Rider's powers? all good.
That made sense. The Darkhold was empowered by Chthon, the God of Chaos, and the curse used here was designed for mere mortals. No comparison.
Because the curse had always worked on witches before, no one considered the possibility of someone like Jon, a vessel of demonic power far beyond human comprehension.
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