Millennium Witch

Book 3: Chapter 261: A Conversation in the Book House

Aside from a few designated night-market streets, Icehammer City was quiet at night. Compared to daytime, the cold was even harsher after dark. Other than a handful of night watchmen working to survive, or drunkards stumbling home, most residents preferred to stay inside by their crackling hearths.The next morning, Yvette left the springlike warmth of Snowmist Lodge early, stepping onto the stone-paved street that had been swept clear but was still coated in a thin layer of frost. She made her way to a street in Icehammer City known as Old Book Street.

Bookstores lined both sides of the street almost without interruption. Tall wooden signboards swayed gently in the cold wind, creaking softly.

Though it was still early, the street was already dotted with pedestrians drifting from shop to shop, most of them holding cheap, roughly printed romance novels or adventure tales—either to read themselves or have someone else read to them.

In an age where “spiritual culture” was anything but abundant, books were one of the more important forms of entertainment for most people.

Yvette, of course, wasn’t here for light reading. She already had a stash of novels saved in her soul-brain for killing time—some of them even written by Abella. As long as Abella wasn’t the protagonist, Yvette could manage to read them with a reasonably objective eye.

Her real goal today was research. The depths of the Snowfields were a mysterious, vast region said to hide countless Ultra-ancient Ruins beneath the permafrost, along with the monsters that guarded them. If she didn’t do her homework in advance, she might walk right over a ruin without realizing it.

After asking around a bit, she stepped into a bookstore on the corner called White Bear Book House.

Its sign was painted with a chubby, dopey-looking white bear. The shop was rumored to hold a large collection of serious works on Snowfield geography, history, and bestiaries—a supply point that many adventurers with ambitions in the deep Snowfields considered a must-visit.

There weren’t many people in the store that morning. Pale golden sunlight streamed in through the windows, pooling on the wooden floor and wrapping the bookshelves in a soft glow.

Because there was a stove burning inside, a wave of warmth washed over her as soon as she opened the door. But after a moment’s observation, Yvette realized that the stove was only doing part of the work—the rest of the heat was coming from several chunks of lava crystal in the corners, carted up from the south.

—A specialty of the Southsea Trading Company. As the most influential trading company on the Eastern Continent, Southsea Trading worked in cooperation with the Southern Alliance and the Dragon Kingdom. Lava crystal, mined from the Dragon Isles, was extremely popular in the Snow Country.

After paying a rather steep reading fee, Yvette followed a clerk’s guidance to pull a tall stack of yellowed tomes from the shelves, then sat down in a reading nook by the window.

The first thing she opened was a volume on Frost Wraiths—the key, according to Professor Evans, to the theory that the Snowfields were once a battlefield of the War of Divine Judgment.

These creatures usually existed in two states. In the first, they were eternally frozen beneath the permafrost and hardly worth mentioning. In the second, they roamed within hollow channels of underground ice-veins. From time to time, they would slip out through passages to the surface and become wanderers of the Snowfields.

Like the Taint Demons of legend, Frost Wraiths carried a similar kind of foul toxin. Any wound inflicted by them would spread this corruption through the body, turning people or animals alike into new Frost Wraiths.

But there was a difference. Those infected by Taint Demons became terrifying, warped monsters and gained special abilities, while those turned by Frost Wraiths showed no changes in appearance at all—they simply attacked everything indiscriminately.

From that perspective, Frost Wraiths were more like a weakened version of Taint Demons.

Sounds a lot like aberrant forms… Yvette nodded inwardly, conceding that Professor Evans’s judgment made sense.

However, when she went on to consult some older, native Snow Country texts, she found a contradiction—there were scattered hints suggesting that Frost Wraiths might predate the five-hundred-year-old War of Divine Judgment, reaching back as far as the millennia-old Era of Withering.

In other words, even before the Doomsday arrived, Frost Wraiths might already have existed in the distant past?

So where had they come from? Were they not a product of the Doomsday at all, but remnants from the time of the Ultra-ancient Civilization—

Leftovers?

And were they tied somehow to the Ultra-ancient Civilization’s destruction?

A strong sense of déjà vu washed over her. Yvette pressed down her doubts and continued on to the entries about snow mites and Frost Giants.

Like Frost Wraiths, snow mites and Frost Giants were creatures of unknown origin found only in the deep Snowfields. Snow mites rarely appeared, but when they did, they came in terrifying numbers. They exhaled freezing mist, and most of the blizzards that swept the Snowfields were said to be linked to the frigid fog they spewed.

Frost Giants, meanwhile, were pure magical lifeforms, bodies composed entirely of ice-element. They appeared even more rarely, but their strength was monstrous—there were records of a High-tier Magic Swordsman venturing into the deep Snowfields, only to be casually crushed to death by a Frost Giant.

It was worth noting that folk legend claimed Frost Giants were guardians of the Snow Emperor’s divine kingdom, attacking adventurers to keep mortals away from the Snow Emperor’s hidden dwelling place.

Of course, this theory had been publicly “debunked” by the Snow Country’s Great Prophet, Esvia, likely because it clashed with the compassionate image of a Snow Emperor who protected the masses.

Yvette, however, had a different opinion.

In her experience, any rumor the authorities took the trouble to “clarify” was eighty to ninety percent likely to be true. Which meant the Snow Emperor probably was manipulating Frost Giants to attack anyone who ventured too close to the depths of the Snowfields.

That was a rather dangerous signal.

Because she was deeply absorbed in her reading and sensed no hostility from outside, Yvette didn’t immediately notice the white-haired girl in a gray fur cloak, half-visible, who had silently approached behind her and was now looking down at the very page Yvette was reading on Frost Giants and their connection to the Snow Emperor.

When the girl noticed the lines that slandered the Snow Emperor, the emptiness in her lake-blue eyes rippled, ever so faintly. She pressed her lips together without realizing it.

Time slipped by unnoticed. Only when the afternoon sunlight began to slant westward did Yvette finally close the heavy tome in her hands and get ready to return it.

The moment she turned around, she found herself looking straight at the gray-cloaked girl, still maintaining her invisibility and standing facing the bookshelf beside her. Her posture was stiff—less like someone browsing the shelves and more like a statue.

Yvette couldn’t take it anymore. This was way too obvious. Running into her by chance at the restaurant was one thing, but now the girl was trailing her into a bookstore? What was that supposed to mean?

After a moment’s thought, she simply walked over and asked coolly, “Do you need something?”

The girl didn’t react, as if she hadn’t heard.

“If you’ve got something to say, then say it. Keep following me, and don’t blame me for not being polite,” Yvette warned.

At that, sensing the threat in Yvette’s tone, the white-haired girl finally spoke. Still with her back to Yvette, she asked in a flat voice, “Who are you?”

“If you want to ask someone else’s identity, you introduce yourself first. That’s called manners.”

“…”

Shuanghua fell silent. She thought this chestnut-haired girl’s tone was a bit forceful—no one had spoken to her that way in a very long time.

After a brief hesitation, she chose a relatively straightforward answer. “Shuanghua.”

“Hm?”

“My name,” she added.

Yvette frowned slightly. What she wanted was an identity. A name alone could be made up on the spot.

Still, at least it was a normal answer. So she replied in turn, “Yvette Loxivia.”

Hearing that name, the white-haired girl stared at her, unmoving, as if she’d turned to stone.

The atmosphere in the bookstore remained tranquil. Every now and then, a renter’s laughter rang out from a corner, spreading a lazy, pleasant mood through the room.

Yvette waited patiently for a while. When she saw the girl still not responding, she assumed the abrupt conversation was over, sighed inwardly, and turned to leave.

Just then, as if snapping out of a daze, Shuanghua finally turned and called softly, “W–wait.”

Yvette stopped and turned back, looking at the girl’s delicately pale face. “What do you actually want?”

“I’ve heard your name before.”

“You’ve heard it?”

“Yes.” Shuanghua met her eyes. “It’s the true name of the Silver Witch.”

“You actually know the Silver Witch’s true name?” Yvette was genuinely surprised. All the information she’d found basically called her the God of Serendipity or the Silver Witch;not a single record had mentioned her true name. Yvette had assumed Rosalyn left it out on purpose when she compiled the legends.

So the truth was simply that it hadn’t spread widely. The fact that this girl knew it at all was proof enough that she was no ordinary person.

Shuanghua nodded. The light from the window traced her fine profile and snow-white lashes as she asked seriously, “Did you lie to me?”

Her tone was questioning.

She wanted to confirm whether the person before her was truly the Silver Witch of legend, no matter how implausible that sounded.

Yvette, of course, hadn’t expected this girl to be genuinely willing to believe she was the Silver Witch—even half-believe it.

So she paused for a second, then shifted her wording. “I’m the Silver Witch’s chosen divine emissary, the Throne of the Silver Witch Church, the incarnation of the Goddess’s will—so you can also think of me as a part of the Silver Witch.”

Ninety-nine out of a hundred people would dismiss that line on the spot, and the last one would only pretend to believe it.

Shuanghua simply nodded once and immediately asked, “Then can you let me meet the Goddess?”

“Why do you want to see the Goddess?” Yvette wondered if this girl was a little too easy to fool. At this rate, if she claimed to be the Silver Witch herself—or even the Doomsday Witch—would the girl go along with that too?

And if she accidentally spoke that into reality? Hmph. Wouldn’t that actually be a good thing?

“I just want to see her.”

“Why do you want to?”

“Do I have to have a reason?”

“The Goddess isn’t someone you can just see because you want to.”

“But I want to.”

“You really are a handful…” Yvette said. “If you want to meet the Goddess, you need to have devout faith in her first. Can you do that?”

“I can,” Shuanghua answered without a second thought.

Yvette had to admit—she really did look the part of a devout believer.

“So you have to prove it with actions,” Yvette went on. “For example, you could help the Silver Witch Church spread her faith here, broadcasting the Goddess’s radiance and turning more people into the Goddess’s devoted followers. If you do enough, the Goddess will definitely notice you—and might even grant you a serendipitous blessing.”

“That’s all it takes?” Shuanghua tilted her head slightly.

The small motion made her look a bit more like a normal girl.

“Yes, that’s all it takes. It sounds easy, but it’s very hard. You’ll need to turn people into truly devout believers in the Silver Witch. Casual, general faith won’t be enough,” Yvette reminded her.

“Mm.” Shuanghua nodded again, indicating she understood.

Their inexplicable conversation ended there.

Yvette felt this girl was becoming more and more inscrutable.

As someone above the Archmage tier, the girl was most likely a subordinate of the Snow Emperor here in the Snow Country—or at least the subordinate of that Great Prophet Esvia. How could she so readily promise to help spread faith in the Silver Witch?

Wasn’t she afraid of divine punishment?

“And another thing—what exactly are you?” After a moment of quiet, Yvette pressed on. “I’ve already told you who I am;shouldn’t you come clean too?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you,” Shuanghua said, a little ashamed.

She hadn’t fully believed Yvette either, so there was no way she could be completely honest—though she was more than “a little” convinced by now.

Yvette didn’t get angry at that answer. At least this mysterious, youthful powerhouse wasn’t making up some fake identity to fob her off—that showed a certain amount of sincerity.

But she had no intention of letting the matter drop so easily. She pretended to be displeased. “You can’t expect me to tell you my identity for free while you give me nothing at all in return. Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

Shuanghua fell silent.

She also felt a little guilty.

At any other time, even if she did something wrong, she could just go invisible—no one would ever know it was her. At worst, she would find an opportunity to secretly make it up to them later.

But this girl might be her grandmaster’s chosen one—someone who could see through the invisibility spell her teacher had been so proud of.

For the first time, Shuanghua felt truly uneasy, afraid of making a bad impression.

“How about this,” Yvette said, sensing the mood was just right and offering a compromise. “If you can give me a piece of useful information instead, I won’t press you on this.”

“All right.” Shuanghua agreed at once, sounding almost relieved.

Yvette fell into thought. For a moment, she couldn’t decide what to ask.

Directly asking for the truth or location of the War of Divine Judgment? The girl probably wouldn’t know, and those were questions she’d rather pose to the Great Prophet at the Snow Emperor Temple.

Eventually, she realized she didn’t have to ask about the Snowfields at all. If anything Snowfield-related counted as a conflict of interest, she could start with something completely unrelated, to reduce the chance of a lie.

So she suddenly asked, “Have you heard of a dragon named Dugrabi?”

If Dugrabi really was the Evil Dragon King, then it had been missing for at least three centuries, and had nothing to do with the Snow Country.

If the girl knew anything here, she shouldn’t have any reason to lie.

And she watched Shuanghua calmly answer, “I have.”

This was the first time Yvette had gotten such a clear confirmation about Dugrabi.

She immediately pressed on. “Then what happened to it? Is it still alive?”

“I don’t know that,” Shuanghua said with a small shake of her head. “All I’ve heard is that it once wreaked havoc in the Crimson Sanctum, and was later suppressed in the Ancestral Holy Spirit’s divine kingdom.”