NOVEL NEXT chapter 101 :School Festival part 11
In this world that had been transformed into my reality lurked monsters and nightmares that took human forms but even among those beasts there were even more fearsome and mysterious entities. They are called witches.
They had lost their humanity, even if their form says otherwise, soulless beings with an existential void that, instead of condemning them, gives them a fearsome gift: their hearts become receptacles of a primordial, volatile and corrupt energy that the ancients could not classify as mana or Măĝî. The supreme pontiff who led the crusades called that energy Flux, and that name was marked in the records of the church, engraved with awe and respect.
Unlike our magicians, they don't need chants or complex runic circles; like miracles, the Flux responds to them like a reflex responds to the body: immediate, visceral. It's an extension of their being, a stream of savage power that flows from their will.
That's why they were classified. Not by their morals, for they are born devoid of humanity, but by their threat level.
From the lowest level is the apprentice (apprentice witch). Even inexperienced, perhaps newborn, these creatures are capable of subjugating an entire village single-handedly. They can turn wheat into poison with a snap of their fingers. A single mistake, a single provocation, and a person's life can be lost overnight. Mercenary guilds, the government, and the kingdom consider them threats equivalent to C-rank combatants or higher, and yet they rarely accept commissions that involve involvement with them.
Then comes the witch. Here, the scale changes dramatically. She is not an evolutionary. Rather, it's an abrupt change, not like going from being a child to an adult, no, more like going from your mother's womb to old age. A single witch can devastate a city as easily as plucking a flower from the ground. Their control over the Flow allows them to shape reality and establish their dominion by breaking down physical and mental defenses. They are bringers of chaos, walking disasters disguised as women.
Their rank only increases proportionally when continuing with the Great Witches. These entities are rare, and fortunately so. Capable of conquering small kingdoms on their own, some are said to have founded their own empires, lands separated from the physical plane, enclosed in dungeons or dimensional rifts where they rule by their own, distorted laws. Facing a Great Witch isn't a mission: it's practically suicide.
And finally, the queen (there can only be one). Beings of legend. Entities that have reached an almost perfect fusion with the Flow, to the point of not being bound by the rules of this world, almost becoming transcendental forces.
A queen can annihilate a continent without an army, without even lifting a finger. Her mere existence unbalances the world, and her footsteps resonate in the fabric of space-time. For this reason, witches were hunted, sealed, or isolated by divine pacts.
And now, here I am… standing before one of those figures once thought extinct.
The figure before me smiled crookedly, wrapped in a black energy that danced with tenyacles around it. There was something about the way the air contracted with its movements, how the ground itself wrinkled as if afraid to touch it. The sky above our heads had blackened, as if the world had held its breath. The light trembled in her presence, and sounds seemed muffled, as if all reality had been submerged in stagnant water.
In my mind I could only think that this entity could not be an apprentice. I knew it by the intensity of its presence, by the way it attacked my thoughts with vivid images, as if the mere fact of observing it wanted to destroy my mind into fragments. It was more... much more. Although I didn't feel the total and overwhelming emptiness of a great witch, it was out of the question to consider her a queen, there was no way in the novel amelia or aziel would hurt her if that was the case. So what I had in front of me... was, almost certainly, a witch.
But that wasn't the most terrifying thing. The worst thing was where we were.
We had crossed an invisible threshold, a boundary my senses barely managed to recognize. I knew it by the way the air changed density, by the texture of the ground, which became uneven, like scaly skin. We were within her domain.
Domains are not places. They are manifestations.
When an entity, whether human or otherwise, reaches a certain level (Rank A or higher), it becomes capable of projecting its will into a space independent of reality. A place removed, though not entirely, from the laws of the world, where time can flow backward, where the sky can burn in liquid flames or disappear entirely. It is an environment woven from its subconscious, shaped by its desires, fears, and essential nature. There, the caster is everything: judge, god, and executioner.
And I... I had entered the domain of a witch.
"Do you know what it means here?" the witch asked. Her voice echoed loudly even though she hadn't moved her mouth; her tone was sweet, like honey spilled on blades.
I didn't respond.
She smiled, and the trees around her began to grow, then bleed. It was a spectacular sight, but at the same time, it made you feel small.
The trees weren't normal; they were tall, gnarled, with bone bark and black leaves that whispered secret, inaudible words. The strangest thing about their trunks was thick, black liquid oozing from the center of their trunks, which fell to the ground and evaporated with a pain-filled hiss. Everything seemed so unnatural.
"You're shaking," she said, walking without leaving any footprints. Each step disturbed the terrain, and where she stepped, flowers grew, murmuring prayers, then withering again.
I knew I had to defend myself if I wanted a chance.
The power of the flow around her distorted the air, almost as if it were enveloping it, but I didn't care. With a thought, I summoned my sword from the system. A blue flash streaked through space, and the steel wrapped in particles of pure energy appeared in my hand with a low hum. Without waiting for her to approach me, I propelled myself forward, channeling mana into my legs to increase my speed. The distance between us vanished in an instant. I raised my sword and slashed straight at her chest.
She barely looked up.
Clang!
The sound was sharp, abrupt… almost mocking. My sword stopped in midair, less than a foot from her body. There was no barrier, but something invisible, dense, and absolutely immovable surrounded her. The impact jolted my arm painfully.
Before I could even react, she raised a hand lazily, as if shooing away an insect.
Immediately, a gust of wind burst from her palm. It wasn't ordinary air. It was sharp, heavy, dark. As if it were being compressed layer by layer.
BOOM!
The blow threw me around like a rag doll. I was thrown several meters and ended up crashing into the wall, now stained black. The pain was imminent and brutal, as if my spine had cracked under the impact.
"Puff..." A gush of blood spurted from my chest, staining the ground crimson.
But I couldn't stop.
I wasn't going to give up after all the fighting I'd done.
I staggered to my feet, the sword still in my hand, my body trembling but my soul still steadfast. Even though the pressure of fighting in her domain wanted to consume me, I held on. My eyes desperately searched for something... anything I could use to my advantage.
The terrain around us was a twisted one she had created to her will: trees with spiraling branches that whispered names, stones that beat like hearts, and puddles that reflected a sky that wasn't ours. Nothing seemed trustworthy. Nothing was fake, but nothing seemed real either.
Then, I felt it.
A cold stab in my back.
I turned immediately, just in time to see two shadow tentacles emerge from the ground, slithering like hungry snakes toward me. I dove to the side, rolling on the ground, and the blade of one of them sliced through the air where my throat had been seconds before.
Quickly countering, I sliced through one of the tentacles with a swift motion; the mana-infused steel pierced it easily. The other I cleaved with a clean, firm downward slash.
But what fell to the ground didn't stay still.
The witch's mythical shadows writhed and reshaped themselves, almost as if sentient, transforming into black snakes with eyes as red as burning coals and lunging toward my legs, trying to coil around my ankles. One wrapped around my left leg, and I felt its body drain my energy.
"Tch…!" I growled, concentrating mana into my sword.
With a determined cry, I stabbed both creatures at once. The current surrounding the snakes tried to penetrate my weapon, but it was useless. The weapon ignited with a brief burst of bluish light, and the snakes burst into clouds of black smoke, disappearing.