Chapter 140: Ghost Witch Coven

"Ugh, no," the golden dragon disguised as a Young Black Dragon trembled slightly, "his writings are an exception. He—no, *he*—his views on Giant Dragons are truly incisive."

"But I think we should drop the subject, alright?"

Ron shrugged. Unlike the golden dragon, he felt no need to hold this "Fitzben" in both reverence and fear, especially not after reading the man’s work.

On the fifth night, Ron raised the Hand Mirror. As expected, once the moonlight struck its surface, Ghost Witch Polly’s nauseatingly ugly face materialized on it.

"Well now, have you made up your mind, young man?" Polly cackled, her voice echoing from within the mirror.

Ron had taken the initiative to contact her, which meant he had made his decision. It also meant her grand plan for revenge could finally begin!

As Ron and his companions followed the path back to the Ghost Witch’s hut, the vermin and crawling things of the forest parted for them, as if instructed by some master. Two massive, jet-black hounds bared their teeth and growled at them from the entrance. Behind them, the putrid form of Polly stood on the doorstep, a smile on her face as she welcomed the party.

"Good boys, down!" Polly soothed, stroking the two hounds to keep them from pouncing on her guests. She looked up, and as Ron’s group drew near, several masks appeared in her hands.

"Here, put these on. It’s a necessary disguise—I haven’t put any Magic on them. They’re just plain masks."

One of the masks was clearly custom-made to fit the "Young Black Dragon’s" face.

"You first," Ron said, handing the mask to the "Young Black Dragon." The moment it placed the Ghost Witch’s mask on its face, an inscription for Protection from Evil flared to life across its scales.

"Er, that... I forgot about that one!" The Ghost Witch was just as treacherous as he’d expected. Seeing her trick exposed, she hastily snatched the other masks from Ron, dispelling the Magic on each one. "Now you can put them on without worry. Honestly, would you really suspect a poor old woman of having ill intentions?"

"I wasn’t suspicious before, but I can’t say the same now," Sera muttered, the last to don her mask. "You’d better not pull any more tricks, or my greatsword will be taking the place of your spine!"

A barbarian’s threats were always so crude and direct. Polly’s expression soured, but she said nothing more.

"Let’s go," she said, leading the way with her two hounds. "I’ll take you to the coven’s meeting place. It’s a ways from my hut."

"Night Howling Hounds," "Aiksuuri" whispered to Ron. "They’re a Spirit Type born to serve. When their master dies, they seek out a new, evil one—like a Vampire, a Necromancer, or a Ghost Witch."

"They can’t be in the sun. Prolonged exposure makes them instinctively fearful, and they’ll flee back to the Astral Plane. Their master can only summon them again after sunset."

"The little Dragon Cub certainly knows a lot," Polly called out from ahead, not bothering to turn around. "Too bad these two hounds were just a ’gift’ from ’Auntie,’ separated from their pack for me. If I succeed this time, I can have all of them."

"Your ambition is quite something," the golden dragon said, watching the Ghost Witch’s back. "But I advise you to use such power for good."

"What right does a Black Dragon have to lecture me?" Polly snorted resentfully. "Oh, that’s right. I nearly forgot."

"You’re nothing but a little pup tamed by humans. You cast aside Tiamat’s dignity long ago. Who do you worship now? Asteria? Tamara?"

"Surely not that hypocrite, Bahamut?"

Ghost Witches don’t worship Deities, so she spoke of them with no respect. But to Ron’s surprise, the golden dragon displayed astonishing restraint. He didn’t react at all to Polly’s taunts.

Bathed in moonlight, Polly led Ron and his companions across wastelands, through swamps, and into a dense forest, finally stopping at the edge of a clearing.

Peeking through a gap in the trees, Ron could make out two tall, hunched figures swaying in the darkness. ’Those must be the other two Dark Sisters from Polly’s coven.’

"I never thought I’d see you back here alive." As Polly drew closer, a Ghost Witch who bore a striking resemblance to her eyed her scornfully. "My dear sister, it seems you didn’t fare so well yourself, now did you?"

"Snitches get punished all the same."

"So ’Auntie’ didn’t spare you, either?" Polly cackled, gloating. "And you still managed to survive!"

"There’s no shortage of kind souls in Delusional Land," her sister shrieked. "And aren’t you proof of that? They saved your life, and you still turned them into your thralls."

"Enough. You two traitors can stop your squabbling," the largest and ugliest of the Ghost Witches spoke, silencing the bickering sisters. "Come. Show me the proof of your repentance, and then I will decide which one of you to pardon."

"One of us?" Polly and Sally froze. "You mean... no, you can’t be saying—"

"Traitors must pay the price." ’Auntie’s’ tone was imperious and absolute. As she spoke, Ron thought he heard an echo in her voice, as if another Ghost Witch were speaking from within her. "Only one of you can live. The one whose repentance is lacking must choose between two consequences."

"Make good on your repentance and leave Delusional Land, never to return. Or pay with your life."

Polly and Sally shot each other a look, then answered in unison, "My offering is without a doubt the most sincere, ’Auntie’!"

"I have brought a full seven thralls: humans, a Half-Elf, a Vampire Descendant, a Black Dragon cub, and, er, a goblin!" Polly said with deep reverence. "I have also brought back the hounds you gifted me. I know I am unworthy of such an honor, and so I return them to you."

Sally’s expression darkened as she looked past her sister at Ron’s party. "A goblin? You really outdid yourself. What use do we have for a goblin?"

"’Auntie,’ I may have only brought one thrall, but I guarantee he is of immense importance to you!" With that, the Ghost Witch pulled a male Elf out from behind her. "He comes from a renowned bloodline and has a legendary history! He knows everything that happened in the fallen Elf Town! He is a remnant of the lost Elf Empire!"

"Allow me to present him to my dearest Auntie, my mother. His mother’s family name is the noble Von Richthofen, and his name... is Mingdatis Laine!"

Ron: "Huh?"