Chapter 137: The Ghost Witch’s Past

The Ghost Witch’s body was unexpectedly heavy. Ron and the others had to use all their strength to heave it onto the dry bank.

The Ghost Witch gasped for breath, collapsing onto the ground. Ron noticed a pair of shackles made of some unknown material clasped around her ankles. Her body had been stripped almost completely bare, with no adornments or Casting Materials left on her.

For a species renowned for its treacherous Mana, such a state was exceedingly rare.

"You seem badly hurt. Do you need me to heal you?" Victoria asked the Ghost Witch. "With positive energy?"

"There’s no need," the Ghost Witch said, catching her breath. She nodded at the people and the dragon around her. "I didn’t expect you’d actually be willing to lend a hand. Is it admirable nobility? Or pathetic foolishness?"

She had lived in this land for a very long time. She loved to mislead other creatures into traps of her own design, leaving them utterly lost and confused. Sometimes she would imitate calls for help to lure in victims; other times, she would mimic the roars of ferocious beasts to drive away intruders.

In her younger years, she had played tricks on Elves, all manner of bandits and robbers, and even Frogmen and Lizardmen. But she had never imagined that one day, she would be the one genuinely crying for help from within her own trap.

Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would have to rely on the very "fools" she had once mocked for a sliver of a chance at survival.

"I suppose this is ’Auntie’s’ punishment..." the Ghost Witch mumbled.

"Auntie? What auntie?" Ron asked, looking at her. "I think you’d better explain what just happened. I never imagined a Ghost Witch would end up in such a miserable state on her own home turf."

"Who did this to you?"

"A more powerful Ghost Witch, of course," the Ghost Witch said as she rose to her feet. Her two-meter-plus frame was tall enough for her to look down on Ron and the others. "You can call me ’Rotten Polly’ or whatever else you like, so long as you don’t confuse me with my sister, ’Gloomy Sally’."

"If you’re not in a hurry, why don’t you come and sit at my cottage? I’ll treat you to the best tea and pastries—oh, I mean, the worst."

Ron and the others accepted "Rotten Polly’s" invitation, following her to a nearby cottage that seemed half-submerged in an Illusion Realm. Polly indeed kept her word, bringing out what she considered the "worst" tea and desserts—fresh black tea and a honey cake completely free of any spoilage.

"My memory of how to make these disgusting foods is far too hazy," Polly said, taking a jar full of wasps from a cupboard. When she opened it, a great swarm of wasps immediately enveloped her, using the Magic in their stingers to stitch her wounds shut. "I remember what they look and taste like, but the knowledge of how to make them is from before I was thirteen."

"Well, it’s edible at least," Silvia said, taking a small bite of the cake. "Honestly, that in itself is a huge surprise."

Ghost Witches were reclusive and selfish, but they did occasionally invite outsiders as guests. It was just that the food they served was generally not to their guests’ tastes—poisoned apples, moldy cakes, and foul-smelling tea, for instance. For this Ghost Witch to produce something a normal creature could eat was quite an accomplishment.

"So, now, would you mind telling us your story?" Ron asked, taking a sip of the black tea. ’The Ghost Witch put in way too much sugar,’ he thought. "I’m a new Pioneer, and I want to establish a foothold in the Delusional Land."

"When it comes to having a Ghost Witch for a neighbor, I think the more I know, the better."

"Just don’t build your villages and towns on my doorstep," Polly said, looking with some distress at the dead wasps on the floor. "Pioneers in the Delusional Land come and go. I’ve yet to see a single one gain a firm foothold."

"I’d love to experience the joy of plunging a kingdom into tragedy, but the powers-that-be here always vanish into thin air before they get that far."

"You seem to have lived a long time," Aive said, glancing at her. "Do you know of Green Swamp Town? What role did you play in its destruction?"

"What role? Heavens, I’m just an old woman who likes to tease and torment people. How could I possibly destroy an entire town?" Polly said, standing by the newly lit hearth. "If you must give me a role, I was a bystander. Are you satisfied now?"

"You saw the whole thing yourself?"

"No, my mother told me about it," Polly said, rummaging around her cottage. At last, she pulled a bundle of letters from a messy pile of clutter. "Ah, I’ve found them."

"It seems there are Casters among you, so you shouldn’t be too unfamiliar with a ’Ghost Witch coven,’ right? Three Ghost Witches, gathered together to form a mutually supportive little group. How... ’cozy’."

Polly gritted her teeth as she spoke. It seemed her little group had given her more than just ’coziness’.

"My mother was once a member of a coven. She and her two sisters gathered together, acting as Prophets who delivered wicked prophecies," Polly said, sorting through the letters. She didn’t open them, seeming to only glance at each one to stir her memories. "Those Elves found them, hoping to get information about reviving some damn empire."

"Making a deal with a Ghost Witch. That’s rich," Sera muttered. "Even I know that no good comes from making deals with your kind."

"But Ghost Witches do know many things," Aiksuuri said. "They’re practically immortal. Their lifespans are even longer than those of dragons and Elves."

"We almost never seek out deals ourselves. They’re the ones who come looking," Polly said with a cold laugh. "In any case, they got a secret—that a powerful force lies buried deep beneath the Delusional Land..."

"So that’s where they learned it," Ron nodded. "Those Elves devised a brilliant scheme and ended up burying themselves with it."

"It also buried my mother’s original coven," Polly rasped with a mocking laugh. "The Ghost Witch who finally revealed the location abruptly exploded, bursting into a pile of fragments. Another nearly suffered a similar fate. Though she escaped with her life, she might as well have died."

"As for the third, she couldn’t escape being implicated either. But she had a unique advantage over her two sisters—she had once swallowed a pair of twins and transformed them into Ghost Witches."

"She laid a curse and a mission upon her daughters, demanding that they reawaken her at any cost. Forced into a corner, the sisters had no choice but to comply..."