Chapter 1586 - 52: Prophecy

Chapter 1586: Chapter 52: Prophecy

Two somewhat clunky-looking wagons rolled along the dirt road, carving deep ruts into the ground. The iron‑black carriage boxes looked nothing special, but the several Dokuns harnessed to the front were absurdly imposing.

Clack‑clack‑clack...

The mechanical winch turned as the Drunkard of the Sunset Red Squad clung under the wagon, busy dismantling something.

"Done yet? The Dokuns pulling us are about to keel over. Release the winch."

The old man built like a bear slapped the plank under him. Bang, bang—he sounded downright irritable.

"Almost. Shut up."

The Drunkard clearly wasn’t easy to mess with either. He was the squad’s Reconnaissance man, good at fixing gear, mixing explosives, assassination, and so on.

The bear‑strong old man, Joshua, was obviously the straight‑up frontal assault type—nine times out of ten, he was the one leading the Charge.

Senator Carmen, meanwhile, was the Cunning Old Fox type. He didn’t have the Strength Joshua did, nor the Weapon skills of Witch’s Grave, but his overall Ability was top‑tier.

The senile Witch’s Grave handled Long Range firepower. He was deadly with Crossbows, shotguns, siege bolts, blowguns—anything that could shoot from afar. Whenever they captured a Witch alive, he was the one in charge of the interrogation.

Drunkard, Blood Bear, Carmen, Gunte (Witch’s Grave)—these were the nicknames they used for one another.

The four in the wagons all looked perfectly calm. You couldn’t see an ounce of "heroes on a one‑way trip" bravado in them, because in their minds, not coming back was just how it went. Dying in the Southern part was their duty; making it home alive was hitting the jackpot.

Inside the Sunset Red Suicide Squad’s wagon, Witch’s Grave was staring blankly up at the roof, clearly having another bout of senility.

"We’ll swing around here to get to this point. As long as the Earth veins haven’t shifted too drastically, this area’ll be one big swamp. Once we reach here, we’re basically at the Southern part’s reclaimed lands. We’ll have to abandon the wagons and go through the Gate of Dawn from here. Past the Gate of Dawn is Mo Yi Family territory proper. After we pass it, our destination is the Mud Altar—yours is Mist Castle."

Carmen’s finger tapped a blood‑red area on the map, specially marked out.

"We have to pass through there?"

Su Xiao pointed at the Gate of Dawn.

"We have to go that way. The Gate of Dawn isn’t something the Witches built. It’s a natural fortress. No Witch lives anywhere near it. The last few times we went through Confused Forest or the Wind Tower. This time we’re obviously taking a different route."

Carmen was seasoned—he knew the Southern part’s terrain inside out, having gone deep there multiple times.

"The Gate of Dawn feels like my old hometown."

Witch’s Grave spoke up suddenly. Carmen just chuckled, shook his head, and ignored him. This guy often blurted out random nonsense; considering his senility, that wasn’t exactly surprising.

"Once we get past the Gate of Dawn, that’s when we’ll really need to be careful. Just get a rough idea of the Mud Altar’s situation—that’s enough. We’re going there to pinpoint Misfortune’s location. The last few times, Misfortune was living at the Mud Altar. No idea what it’s like these recent years. As for Mist Castle..."

Carmen began going into detail about Mist Castle. It was built halfway up a mountain range, bracketed by two waterfalls. Seen from below, the fortress was shrouded in mist, like it was floating in vapor.

Mist Castle was the Mo Yi Family’s Headquarter, playing the same role for them that the Holy Healing Church’s main temple did for The Church. Mo Yi·Nora had resided in Mist Castle for years; barring accidents, she was ninety percent likely to be there.

The Sunset Red Squad was in charge of heading to the Mud Altar to deal with Misfortune, while Su Xiao would assault Mist Castle. They’d try to move at the same time—by the time Su Xiao laid eyes on Mo Yi·Nora, the Sunset Red Squad would ideally have Misfortune in hand, preferably alive. Once the timing was right, they’d butcher Misfortune, and Su Xiao would take out Mo Yi·Nora, breaking the two sisters’ Undead Ability.

The Mud Altar and Mist Castle weren’t all that far apart, but even so, The Church found simultaneous action almost impossible. Su Xiao’s wireless headsets, however, made staying in sync a whole lot easier.

Carmen did think the wireless headsets were pretty damn miraculous, obviously a product out of its Time, but he didn’t ask where they came from, and Su Xiao didn’t explain. They both knew better—this was absolutely not the time to stir up internal friction.

"That’s the rough plan. We’ve already gone over it a few times. There shouldn’t be any issues, right?"

Carmen looked up at Su Xiao.

"No issues."

"Good. But before we head for the Gate of Dawn, there’s one more thing we need to do."

As he said this, Carmen tightened his grip on his cane. The Sunset Red Squad’s combat effectiveness was beyond question, but they’d gone a long time without Witch Hunting. They needed a proper warm‑up—especially Witch’s Grave. When he crossed weapons with Witches, it actually cleared his head.

Right now the group was still in the Central Plains District, pushing straight toward the Southern part. If they wanted to warm up, there were plenty of Witches down south.

...

Southern part, Mist Castle.

The roaring waterfall plunged straight down, the thunder of it echoing across the valley. At the base of the valley, you could just make out rows of wooden cabins. The Witches’ main base wasn’t as luxurious as one might imagine—most Witches were shut‑ins. As long as they had enough supplies, those obsessive women could hole up at home for half a year, even a full year, scheming ways to strengthen themselves or develop new Weapons.

A Witch with sufficient experimental materials wasn’t actually that dangerous. The real problem was this: Witches were transformed from Humans, their bodies sharing over ninety‑nine percent similarity with Humans. Because of that, before they tested a new Potion or Ability, they always used civilians as lab rats first, to avoid doing irreversible Damage to themselves if the experiment failed.

When they’re holed up at home, Witches aren’t all that dangerous—but once they’ve burned through all their "materials," that’s when the Evil spirits are unleashed. That’s the real reason Humans hate Witches so viciously.

A wail rose from one of the cabins in the valley. After a while, the screaming grew weaker and weaker.

On the inner side of this U‑shaped valley loomed a towering mountain. Between the two waterfalls on the mountainside, a castle had been built. Time had worked it over so long that the place had almost fused with the rock.

Directly below the castle, the waterfall churned a pool into a frothing mass of White spray. On the calmer water near the shore, mist rose in waves. The water pouring down wasn’t cold—it was actually a natural hot spring.

A dozen naked Witches lounged in the hot spring. Witches might be shut‑ins, but that didn’t mean they didn’t like being clean—especially with a natural hot spring like this at hand.

Gululu...

A little girl with short ash‑white hair was submerged in the warm water. The dozen Witches around her kept casting glances her way, making sure nothing happened to her.

The girl was a Fourth Tier White Witch. She’d shattered common sense—at the fourth stage, she Awakened a prophecy ability. She didn’t rely on symbols or portents to deduce the future; she could see it directly and project it. Of course, that kind of terrifying Power came with a weakness: she couldn’t foreknow people who were too powerful.

Because of that, this Little White Witch girl was the apple of every Black Witch’s eye. Who doesn’t have disaster looming over them? If the girl foresaw danger for them, that literally meant a second life.

"Amy, stay in any longer and you’ll pass out."

A voluptuous Witch lifted the girl out of the spring.

"The future..."

The girl’s voice was dull, wooden. Hearing her speak, all the Witches around her turned their eyes toward her, and the older woman holding her suddenly grew serious too.

"Amy, what did you see?"

The older woman gently supported the girl’s back. Foreknowledge wasn’t a risk‑free Ability—sometimes the girl would go into shock while seeing the future.

After a moment, the dullness faded from the girl’s face. She tapped a finger lightly on the water’s surface. Rings of ripples spread outward, and an image formed in the pool.

"These old geezers are... Witch Hunters?"

"They kinda look the part. Let’s just call them that."

"Did all The Church’s Witch Hunters die off or something, sending this bunch of old, weak, sick, and crippled geezers to the Southern part?"

Just as a few Witches finished mocking, a Black Witch with a head full of White hair suddenly surged upright out of the water.

"Witch... Grave."

The scar‑covered Old Witch’s lips trembled. In her eyes flickered something with a very specific name: terror.