Millennium Witch

Book 3: Chapter 295: Purification Spire Log

According to historical records, back in the era of the first Demon King and even earlier, eighty percent of the Western Continent’s territory was shrouded in poisonous miasma. Only the remaining twenty percent was habitable enough for early demons to live, breed, and fight one another for dominance. It wasn’t until the rule of the Supreme Demon King—when massive environmental reconstruction campaigns were launched and Purification Spires were deployed everywhere—that the Western Continent gradually stepped into that so-called golden age everyone loved to romanticize.But Yvette hadn’t expected that the Purification Spire Rosalyn installed here would actually be using the rebooted legacy tech of the Ultra-ancient Civilization.

That meant she had no choice but to investigate. For all she knew, there might be more crucial information about the Ultra-ancient Civilization era hidden inside the rune-group comments.

With that in mind, Yvette found an empty room that didn’t reek too strongly of goblin, pulled a bed out of the divine realm, and slept like a log. Of course, she could have gone back to Ish Island to sleep, but since she was traveling, she had to experience the local flavor. That was part of the journey.

The next morning, Yvette was woken by faint cleaning sounds from downstairs. Once she’d dressed and gone down, she saw Shana and Mira had changed into spotless black-and-white maid outfits and were kneeling on the floor, scrubbing the gaps between the boards with beast-hair brushes.

The two maid outfits had been found in Charulu’s bedroom, and since a goblin lair lord obviously wasn’t cross-dressing, what they were meant for went without saying.

After a moment of silent reflection—not that she knew exactly what she was sighing over—Yvette asked, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, Witch, my lady,” Shana said with her head lowered.

“These silver crowns are for you. From now on, Siltmouth Town’s tax revenue will also be collected in my name by you two. I won’t be using it, so you can keep it as your living expenses.” Yvette handed over a small pouch.

Feeling the heavy weight of the pouch, Shana looked even happier than when she’d first been rescued. She quickly grabbed her cousin Mira and bowed deeply again. “We truly cannot thank you enough, Witch, my lady! We will never forget your kindness for the rest of our lives!”

Yvette gave a small nod, then pulled out an Adelock-printed copy of the Silver Witch’s doctrine and a holy icon from the divine realm. “You can read the Eastern Continent’s common tongue, right?” she asked.

Once Shana confirmed, Yvette continued, “Starting today, you two will be following me in believing in the Silver Witch—she’s the ‘teacher’ mentioned in the legends of the Supreme Demon King. You’ll also need to read through this doctrine in full. Can you do that?”

“Of course, Witch, my lady,” Shana and Mira answered immediately. Perhaps because there wasn’t much religious competition here, demons on the Western Continent didn’t have the kind of fanatical devotion Eastern Continent believers showed toward their gods. Their attitude was more “believe casually,” so changing faiths didn’t cause them any hesitation at all.

Leaving Shana and Mira in a second-floor bedroom to read through the doctrine, Yvette walked out of the lair alone.

Unlike yesterday, there was no acid rain today, but the sky was still a stifling, pale yellow-brown, turning the sun into a blurry halo of light, like the clouded eyeball of someone with cataracts.

After walking for a while, Yvette arrived at Siltmouth Town’s Purification Spire. It stood out clearly on a raised piece of ground, a massive purification apparatus held aloft by metal supports. Those supports were badly rusted, though. Whoever had been maintaining them had lashed the fragile sections together with coarse hemp rope, wooden slats, and even beast bones, making the whole tower look like a patched-up, dying veteran ready to collapse at any moment.

Yvette took one look at the rickety metal ladder and simply flew up, mental power surging out as she hacked into the Purification Spire’s inner system.

Soon, fresh comments embedded in the rune groups surfaced in Yvette’s mind, crossing tens of thousands of years to reach her—

“Compilation log, New Calendar Year 286, March 3rd, Employee ID K518.”

“Note: ‘West Sector, Seventh Purification Array debug completed. Seriously, whose genius idea was it to build this thing on top of an industrial waste landfill? You’re not changing the soil, so you’re just treating the symptoms, not the root.’”

“Reply to Employee K518: What else are we supposed to do? Those corporate dogs at the companies don’t want to pay for harmless waste treatment, so we just slap a tower on top. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Employee K518: Pure self-delusion. Give it a few hundred years and the elemental pollution underground will stabilize. This whole place will be done for.”

“Reply to Employee K518: And what’s that got to do with us a few hundred years from now? Once this work order’s closed, we’re off to the next site. I hear they’re building three new cities on the Eastern Continent—enough work there to last us until retirement.”

“Employee K518: I’m starting to understand the Redemption Cult.”

…

“Compilation log, New Calendar Year 292, November 15th, Employee ID L129.”

“Note: Routine inspection. The Western Continent is getting more and more desolate. Passed by the ‘Deep Pit Zone’ last week and saw a huge crowd of vagrants setting up tents there—no less than a thousand of them. They might as well just found a country here.”

…

“Compilation log, New Calendar Year 299, April 25th, Employee ID M415.”

“Note: Routine inspection. Who messed with the trigger mechanism? This Purification Unit is faking operation while not actually filtering anything. No wonder the air quality in this dump keeps getting worse!”

…

“Compilation log, New Calendar Year 300, June 6th, Employee ID M415.”

“Note: Routine inspection. Rumor online is that a lot of vagrants have gone missing lately—people say the Consortium’s corporate dogs are using them as lab rats. Don’t know if it’s true, but I’d better watch my step…”

…

Compared to the anti-gravity engine, the Purification Spire’s rune-group compilation logs jumped forward quite a bit in time—the span was already more than a hundred years later—but the information they revealed was no small matter.

They clearly pointed to one answer: the Western Continent’s harsh environment had been caused by the Ultra-ancient Civilization itself.

It was a reasonable conclusion, but Yvette’s doubts didn’t lessen at all. She opened her eyes, pupils like asters of violet water, reflecting the rolling tides of miasma in the distance.

She thought, the Ultra-ancient Civilization couldn’t possibly have just let the Western Continent’s pollution stay this extreme forever. The contamination here was so absurd it was beyond profit calculations—it was a problem that had to be fixed, or it would eventually blow back on them and waste a huge chunk of land.

Yet there was no sign of the Western Continent improving in later ages.

Did they get wiped out before the environmental remediation plan really got underway, or was there some special reason the Western Continent needed to end up like this?

…

At the same time, in Riftscar City.

The city perched on the cliff face of a deep gorge. Most of its buildings were carved out from natural caves and expanded, then reinforced with rough stone-and-timber structures layered one atop another, easy to defend and hard to attack. It was far larger than Siltmouth Town, the most important settlement and center of power for hundreds of miles around.

At the city’s highest point, inside a fortress-like structure, Riftscar City’s lord, Ironwall Wev, was listening to the babbled report of a goblin attendant who’d fled through the night.

“…J-just one point of his finger! Lord Charulu, he… he turned into black smoke and j-just… drifted away!” A goblin was kneeling on the cold stone floor, shrill voice repeating last night’s scene. He was one of the attendants who’d been escorting Charulu yesterday.

“A witch! She has to be a witch! Only a witch could have that kind of wicked power!” another goblin added loudly.

Wev, three meters tall with the exposed tusks and savage features unique to the troll race, stroked his chin as if thinking it over. Soon, though, he turned to the advisor at his side and asked, “Logro, what do you think?”

The advisor, an infernal demon whose arm glowed beneath the skin like bright red molten magma, said coolly, “It’s very strange, Lord Wev. The former Demon King stepped down, and right now is precisely when the High Lords are cleansing the remnants of demonkin power. At such a time, a demonkin woman of unknown strength and uncanny methods appears in our territory and kills Charulu… It’s highly likely she’s a piece sent by some demonkin lord’s faction to probe things out.”

“Whoever she is, once she’s set foot on my turf, she follows my rules. She killed my lair lord; there has to be a price. Otherwise, when the news spreads, how am I supposed to recruit wandering demon tribes?” Wev snorted. “And if it is a probe, then we all the more need to strike back. How else is Lord Helarit, our High Lord, supposed to look at me?”

Logro fell silent. Helarit was the High Lord of this region and an abyssal demon—one of the races that had the worst relationship with demonkin, bar none. Given that, Riftscar City didn’t really have many options. They had to give that so-called demonkin witch a lesson.

He didn’t see it as a high-risk matter either. Everyone knew goblins were an ignorant, greedy, evil, and boastful inferior demon race. They’d described the demonkin girl in vivid detail as mysterious and terrifying, but their credibility was highly questionable.

As an infernal demon, Logro was more inclined to think Charulu had simply been burned to ash by the demonkin girl’s magic, and the goblins had exaggerated the story to make the situation sound worse.

Wev thought much the same. He couldn’t even be bothered to go in person. “Pigoru,” he called directly.

“Here!” A pig-headed beastfiend stepped out from the ranks. He was a fourth-tier beastfiend powerhouse and Riftscar City’s second-strongest fighter after Wev himself. Sending him out, in Wev’s mind, was already taking this seriously.

“Take a squad and bring that witch back. I want to see what she’s really worth,” Wev said, a cruel smile spreading across the rough features of his troll face as some unknown thought crossed his mind.

“Leave it to me, City Lord! I’ll present that witch to you without a scratch on her!” the pig-headed beastfiend named Pigoru said excitedly. Then he strode out of the fortress, mustered nearly fifty troops, and marched straight toward Siltmouth Town.