TALES OF A WITCHER - Season 8 Episode 51

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“Currently, the plan for taking the Southernmost Region is going smoothly. The Iron Whip clan has fallen. Echo entrusted me to send her gratitude to you.”

“It takes some time to prepare for a holy duel, and I expect that the clans in the Iron Sand City will head for the Land of Fire in a week.”

“During the interim, I’ve hired some clansmen to mark the location of the underground Styx River. I believe we’ll soon find a Blackwater River relatively close to the coast.”

“In addition, Your Majesty, how are you going to deal with the Divine Lady of the clan?”

“With my great respect, Iron Axe.”

“Your Majesty, this is the message we received from the Southernmost Region.”

The Sigil of Listening flashed slightly, emitting a red light. Countess Spear paused after reporting, apparently waiting for Roland’s reply.

Then Nightingale handed another Sigil over to Roland.

She placed the Sigil next to her slim legs on the table where she was seated and Roland couldn’t tell whether she did it on purpose or not. Even though it was not summer, she was still wearing a pair of skinny pants that accentuated her perfect figure. Roland would have to get close to her legs if he wanted to talk into the Sigil.

For Roland, this was a dilemma.

He did not know whether to gaze directly at her legs or glance at them casually.

“Ahem, well done… I mean, Iron Axe.”

“Your Majesty, are you all right?” the Countess inquired. “Your voice is husky. Please, keep warm this winter. You aren’t as strong as the witches.”

“I’m fine,” Roland said as he cleared his throat. “Tell Iron Axe to go forward with the plan if the situation is close to what we expected. As for the Divine Lady, he can endeavor to persuade her to come to Neverwinter. But, if she’s unwilling to leave the Southernmost Region, there’s no need to push her.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know if I have other requirements.”

“I see, then I’ll take my leave, Your Majesty.”

The red light from the Sigil went out.

Roland raised his head and exhaled gently.

Why was he feeling like he had lost something?

Nightingale smiled as she put away the Sigil before slipping off the table and returning to the lounge chair where she could continue to read the picture-story book, “The Witches’ Story,” while she chewed on dried fish.

Roland curled his upper lip and started to concentrate on the real business at hand. They had applied all of the Sigils of Listening in the Desert Mission. The Countess Spear Passi of Fallen Dragon Ridge is transferring the messages to enable them to reach an instant contact between Neverwinter and the advance troops—although calling was still somewhat inconvenient, it was much faster than the traditional way of delivering a message that would cost them a dozen days as well as a carrier pigeon which, though having saved them a lot of time, still took several days.

He finally felt he would be able to get an overview of the situation without going out of his territory.

Unfortunately, a Sigil of Listening would only work if a witch provided the power. Which meant, at least two Sigils and two witches are necessary for a conversation to transpire, meaning that it would never replace the current communication tools used by common people.

Currently, the laying of the first telephone line in the Western Region was underway. It would directly connect the castle office to the City Hall of the Longsong Area. Meanwhile, the second and third lines were also being planned, which, as expected, would connect the City Halls in both areas so that any commands could be passed with just one call in the future.

Erecting electrical poles was time-consuming and labor-intensive, and furthermore, even the finished poles were vulnerable to the snow and ice. Considering this, Roland decided to do it in a convenient and safe way by setting the cable along the mountains and burying them in the ground by Lotus.

Once the mountain defenses have been established, inevitably the lines would need to increase in order to connect with his office. However, by that time there would be a 10 hand-operated system in place.

Aside from that, Roland was also concerned about the relocation of the ancient Taquila witches.

Maggie and Lightning had taken on the role of patrol. They increased their scope of investigation to30 miles north of the mountains. This way they could signal an early warning in the case of a large-scale demonic beast attack.

After all, the relic of deities that were liable to determine the life and death of the Taquila group deserved to be handled with care.

He had talked with Pasha many times over the past two weeks.

Their idea was very simple. They decided to let the worm carrier open up a mountain channel leading to the Western Region first, and then choose a place where the rock formation was stable and had fewer forked roads and there they would build a palace. After that, the ancient witches would gradually move carriers, materials, and shells for the God’s Punishment Army to their new dwelling before transporting the Instrument of Divine Retribution and the relic of gods.

So far Fran had the best experience relocating, or perhaps Roland should call her… a devouring worm.

Roland was unexpectedly shocked when he saw her squirm her chubby body so she could squeeze before the phantom instrument to express her gratitude to him, mouth gaping.

Later, he learned from Pasha that witches who integrated into carriers would no longer be able to be stored in God’s Punishment Warriors. Both, their perceptions and consciousnesses, were consolidated within the new bodies. The advantage was that the carriers could be used in a rush, but once their current bodies were damaged, they wouldn’t have any other alternative carriers.

Indeed, if the witches did not use this method of bonding, they would not be able to manipulate the body even with a lifetime of practice—how would a person, accustomed to using fingers and limbs, learn to manipulate countless tentacles or a body that had to inch along like a worm? On the contrary, once they had adapted to their peculiar carriers, it was unlikely for them to return to their previous way of life.

When Fran was not in use, ancient witches had to put her soul back to the soul container where she would fall asleep forever, for the devouring worm must consume a large amount of food to keep alive. Certainly, it was not a good experience for Fran at all. In a sense, she sacrificed her future for the continuation of the Taquila group, and she had paid a higher price than Pasha and Alethea who had transformed into the original carriers.

At least the latter could always watch the world and feel the changes happening in the outside world.

So, her gratitude to Roland was palpable.

Another key point that made her feel so grateful was that Roland boasted that there would be ongoing work in Neverwinter waiting for Fran. That meant he would be offering her enough food to keep her energetic. Fortunately, the worm was omnivorous and could accept both cereal and meat.

“I want to eat hot and seasoned meat porridge, as well as a whole veal with its skin roasted to be greasy!”

As Fran said that, her mouth began to water.

Although the worm’s appearance was a bit ugly, they, like the blob, could sense their external environment in a unique way, which included taste, pain, and temperature.

Roland accepted her gratitude in his heart with both laughter and tears.

It seemed that no matter the world, the construction industry would always be a huge behemoth that devoured gold.

Incidentally, he also asked Pasha what the original and central carrier ate to sustain life. Her answer was mud and high temperatures—which was why they liked to stay in magma.

The answer relieved Roland slightly, This meant he wouldn’t have to be responsible for supplying food to those who were nearly immortal. Presumably, the blob was more like a plant in the way it gathered energy when compared to the devouring worms.

Just as he considered how to plan the mountain defense so the underground military facilities would have an effective connection with the current byroads or even the palace of the ancient witches, there was suddenly the sound of an explosion coming from outside the window.

Roland turned and looked out the French window in surprise. He saw black smoke, mixed with some looming flames, rising from the corner of town, where the school would be located.

“Nightingale!”

“I’ll make Sylvie and Phyllis go and take a look. Your Majesty, please don’t leave the office. I’ll be right back!” As Nightingale said this, she entered her Mist and disappeared completely.