Millennium Witch

Book 3: Chapter 254: The Book of Lightning

At night, the Adventurers’ Guild was even livelier than during the day. On the wide plaza of gray stone slabs in front of the doors, people surged back and forth. The statue of the Silver Witch had already been moved to the very center of the square, its base built from rough-hewn granite. Several storm lamps hung from the iron frames around it, their dim yellow halos outlining the mottled verdigris left by a hundred years of wind and rain.Ringed around the statue, believers of all kinds and races had, without needing to be asked, closed their eyes in unison. In the crowd one could see dwarves wrapped in beast pelts, half-elves with long pointed ears, and desert travelers whose faces were hidden under headscarves.

A brown-haired boy in a white cloak, arcs of electricity coiling around him, stood with arms raised in a guiding pose, offering blessings to the people around him.

“Silver emblem in the dark, guiding light amid the mists—”

“You are the incarnation of serendipity. Please illuminate the road ahead of me, so that when I am lost, I may see where my next step should fall.”

“May those who have strayed find their way home. May those who bear heavy burdens find peace. May all souls that harbor kindness in their hearts eventually reach the light they seek.”

This boy was, of course, Ezra.

In the past he’d been undernourished, small and thin, lacking even the outline of a proper youth and looking more like a child. But recently, in Lute Village, thanks to the village’s explosive growth under the endless stream of pilgrims coming to worship at the witch’s temple, his meals had improved all at once. His body had filled out noticeably, and that former frailty was gone.

The more important change, of course, was in his bearing. He was now the Lightning Apostle under the Goddess’s throne. He had shattered several strongholds of the Omniscient Sect and become famous throughout the area around Adelock. In terms of strength, status, and everything he had experienced, he no longer had any reason to feel like that self-conscious country boy he used to be.

Before long, when the blessing ended and waves of voices lifted up cries of “Praise the Goddess” and “Goddess above,” the crowd slowly dispersed.

Because the only place in Adelock with a statue of the Silver Witch was in front of the Adventurers’ Guild, and because of the influence that the Lightning Apostle had brought, many adventurers would, before taking on quests, offer a devout prayer to the Goddess’s statue at the door, asking that the mission they accepted go smoothly.

When Ezra learned of this, he felt it was a chance to spread the Goddess’s radiance, so he came specially to Adelock. Every night he held three large-scale blessing ceremonies here, and they were wildly popular. By the end of August, this had already become a fixed part of the Adventurers’ Guild’s nightly routine.

The Adventurers’ Guild was more than happy to see it. They were not a church; they bore no responsibility for any of this, yet they could fully enjoy the benefits brought by the Silver Witch Church. All the shops circling the Guild—taverns, massage parlors, and the red-light district—belonged to the Guild’s assets. The nighttime crowds drawn in by the blessing ceremonies could be converted into income through those establishments. Why would they say no?

Even the little wooden figurines of the Silver Witch they sold were moving faster than ever. It was practically a windfall falling from the sky.

Once the blessing was over, Ezra took another stroll around Adelock and stayed out until the night market opened before finally heading back to the village.

During that time, he went to take a look at the grand cathedrals of the Sunflame Sect and the Cloudpeak Sect. He thought that while the orders passed down from the Throne clearly said the future path was to follow the common people—to put it bluntly, not to preach actively and rely entirely on spontaneous grassroots faith—no matter how he looked at it, that approach didn’t feel quite right.

In his eyes, the future still called for a great temple in Adelock, to stand face to face with the two native powers of the Sunflame Sect and the Cloudpeak Sect. Otherwise, how were they supposed to compete?

When the Omniscient Sect had ravaged Lute Village, those two sects had clearly received the news but hadn’t taken it seriously at all, their attitude utterly perfunctory. In his opinion, churches like that deserved to be replaced by the Silver Witch Church.

Looks like if temples were going to be built in the major city-states, he’d have to do it himself—

Carrying the goal of spreading the Goddess’s radiance, and with certain ambitions for his own future also in mind, Ezra quietly made up his mind.

Soon, he left Adelock behind. The city’s brilliant outline of lights was swallowed by the dark hills. There was no moon overhead, and a black blanket of clouds smothered the sky. It seemed a night of rain was about to begin.

Running along the road like living lightning, Ezra suddenly felt a powerful sense of danger, as if someone were watching him from the shadows. He stopped, scanning his surroundings for the source of that gaze.

Then he saw a pitch-black figure drop from the crown of a towering tree. Its face was hidden behind a mask, its body cloaked in a dark mantle. As the hem of the cloak flared out, a pair of swan-white wings spread to either side—it was a birdfolk.

“Ezra Yarrow,” the masked figure said calmly.

“And you are?” Ezra watched him warily.

The masked man did not answer his question. Instead, he spoke with the cold tone of someone issuing judgment from on high: “Thou hast thrown thyself to an Eldritch God, disguising that god’s boon as serendipitous favor, and used lightning magic to deceive the ignorant masses, defiling the holy name of the Silver Witch. By oracle I act, and hereby pronounce thee guilty of blasphemy. Yet my God is boundless in mercy. Surrender now and cease resisting—this is the only path by which thou mayst live.”

His speech was stiff and archaic, but Ezra understood the gist of it.

He hadn’t expected the other side to dare open by slandering him as a cultist of an Eldritch God, masquerading as the Doomsday Witch’s chosen. That was beyond absurd. He said coldly, “Who are you? What nonsense are you spouting?”

“False believer, I will now tear apart your lies,” the masked man said. From his waist beneath the cloak, he drew a sword—a magical blade wreathed in pale blue-white light. A white gem was set into the base of the hilt, and as it swung, it trailed wisps of white mist.

Ezra had no choice but to draw his own sword and meet him.

Lightning danced as Ezra and the masked man clashed fiercely. Blue-green and azure sword-light tore through the air, sending clods of dirt and scraps of grass flying. The cold wind rang with the constant clang of steel on steel, sparks scattering everywhere. Gradually, Ezra realized that this masked man’s speed was actually not inferior to his own. He had never before met an opponent who could match him in speed like this!

“You’re from the Cloudpeak Sect!” From certain traits in the other’s divine arts, Ezra recognized him and shouted in fury.

At first he had suspected that his attacker was a cultist from the Omniscient Sect, here to get revenge. But he’d never imagined the ones attacking him would be from a church of a True God.

In the minds of the people, the Cloudpeak Sect and their Lord of Sky and Air had always spread their faith under the banner of freedom, lenience, and justice. How could they, without evidence and without any public declaration, secretly send someone to attack him—and even slander him as a false believer, a servant of an Eldritch God?

Isaac did not answer. In truth, he was far more shocked than Ezra.

As a mid-tier swordsman with divine arts backing him, he was without doubt one of the strongest fighters in the entire City of Adventurers. Yet this Lightning Apostle, whose fighting style was rough and obviously inexperienced, could fight him to a standstill, even faintly pressing an advantage. It made no sense.

At least among the known cults of Eldritch Gods—whether the Omniscient Sect, the Blood God cult, or the Church of the God of Chaos—there had never been a case like this, nor had any of them produced such a new and terrifying lightning power.

Just which Eldritch God had granted him this strength? Had yet another new Eldritch God appeared out of nowhere?

“How long are you going to just watch?” Unable to take Ezra down head-on and worried he might escape, Isaac finally couldn’t help but growl.

“Hmph, just as I thought,” came Radiant Bishop Ekef Gibran’s contemptuous voice.

Ezra turned his head and spotted him: the black-robed bishop standing atop a distant hill, staff in hand, its head set with a scepter-like sun emblem. A layer of golden radiance wrapped around his body, like a rising sun crowning the hilltop.

With impossible speed, the light fell upon Ezra. He screamed, feeling his skin sear with pain. Even his Lightning Barrier could not fully block it. He dashed into a stand of trees, using the thick trunks to break the searing beams shining down on him.

He was still far from truly mastering the lightning within his body, and it was exactly at this time that he’d run into the combined assault of Adelock’s two top experts.

He wanted to pray for aid, but prayer required him to enter a state of extreme devotion and complete focus, a “flow” in which his mind was utterly free of distractions, in order to activate the girl-shaped mark on his chest. Right now, his nerves were taut with urgency, and he was being hunted; there was no way he could enter that immersive state of prayer. Naturally, he couldn’t call for help from the Throne, much less from the Goddess.

Didn’t that mean he was cornered?

His heart grew colder and colder as he resolved to try to retreat back toward Adelock, using the crowds there to make these two church killers of the True Gods hesitate.

But this place lay six or seven kilometers from Adelock, and he had no wings. No matter how fast he ran, how could he outpace that Cloudpeak Sect birdfolk circling in the sky?

And at this moment of utmost peril, a book suddenly appeared in front of him—a magic book wreathed in lightning.

The cover was deep blue leather, its edges set with silver metal fittings. Tiny arcs of lightning crawled across its surface, giving off a low, humming buzz.

Without anyone controlling it, this book that only he could see floated in front of him and silently opened. Its pages were made of semi-transparent vellum, faint blue runes surfacing upon them as it flipped to a blank page.

Then, several lines of text appeared on the page of the Book of Lightning. The script was elegant and clear, as if woven from light itself, and even someone who couldn’t read would be able to understand its meaning.

“Name: Ezra Yarrow”

“Title: Apostle”

“Mana: 1310”

“Abilities: Lightning Sprint Lv1, Lightning Enchant Lv1, Lightning Barrier Lv1”

“Goddess Contribution: 12853”

Staring at the scene before him, Ezra froze for a heartbeat—then, because the semi-transparent magic book, like some in-game pop-up window, was drawing too much of his attention, he slammed straight into a tree. His head spun, and for a moment he nearly thought he was hallucinating.

But even with stars dancing in his vision, the book still hung there in front of him, refusing to vanish. Ezra immediately realized what it meant, and joy flashed across his face.

He had no online game experience like people from the Origin Civilization, but he knew that everything before his eyes had to be aid from the Goddess, who had sensed his predicament and sent help his way, arriving at this exact moment.

His chance at survival lay hidden in this mysterious Book of Lightning right before his eyes!