The world has to be ruined down either by the Wizards or by the Witches. 

Atlar is one such wizard stood against to oppose the Witches alongside his comrades. But in reality he holds to hatred for the Witches. His brother was once a mighty wizard but now a Warlock. Even his family overthrow everything to indulge with the Witches.
Even with a meal barely he was happy to serve against Witches but his doubts remains unconscious that why his family betrayed the Wizards.

He is challenged in every corner coz his brothers deeds. Yet, he proves to be a solid brave wizard.

In his journey to find why his family turned down to the Witches. He joins the Wizards and face countless possibilities of hope and despair.

There are many stories that feature someone being reborn into the potterverse. These people all rise and become great and powerfull wizards, but this novel isn't about Wizards or witches it's about an owl. 
System Inspired by Chrysalis.

Mr. Joyce plated the omelette and sliced bread before bringing them to the table. The dining table was pushed to the corner of the kitchen. The surface was covered in mottled oil stains and some spots were mouldy. Normally, a medical student like Gu Jun would have a higher requirement for cleanliness but his hunger won over. Once dinner was served, he started to chomp down. The meal was scrumptious, it brought new meaning to the phrase farm to table.  
"What happened back then?" He asked the old man about the incident that happened 2 years ago at Innsmouth.  
"To be honest, we outsiders know very little about it. It happened around the winter. The rumors were that it was due to prohibition violation but I know for a fact that's not possible. Jack has done plenty of research into the economic structure of Innsmouth and Innsmouth has no one selling bootleg alcohol." Mr. Joyce had his suspicions regarding this speculation. "Many people were captured but no one knew where they were taken and there was no following trial. The news slowly died away. There were some inquiries being done but those were quickly suppressed by the government. I swear something must have happened there." Gu Jun frowned silently. Could it be an action taken against Innsmouth by FBM? Back in his world, Innsmouth did not exist so FBM could not do anything, but if Innsmouth did exist, FBM and by extension, the US government, could have done something like this.  
"I just want to know the truth about my son's death." Mr. Joyce munched on the bread and his voice caught. "I've tried asking the police but no one paid me any attention. I've tried the media but no one was interested in my story. My friends either thought I've lost my mind or they did not want the trouble."
"Sir, perhaps." Gu Jun offered, "I can help you conduct an investigation."
"Oh?" Mr. Joyce's eyes were practically shining. Gu Jun then came up with something more persuasive, more fitting for his identity. "I need to find something to do to earn my place since I just arrived in this country. I can help you go to Innsmouth to investigate. I'm an outsider, perhaps they won't pay me any attention."
"Yes, Mr. Gu, you'll be able to fit right in there!" That was one of the reasons why Mr. Joyce helped Gu Jun. He was glad that the man made him the offer. "You can pretend to be a Dagon disciple!"
"Yes, but to do that, I need to know more about them." Gu Jun nodded. "For one, I wish to know is there any legend about witches at Innsmouth?" The talk of witches was taboo at a place like this. If this was 200 years ago, private discussion of witches could bring them to the gallows.  
"Witches…" Mr. Joyce widened his eyes and then chuckled. "I'll put it this way, everything that happens here is related to witches. Ol' John's family lost a few eggs, it must be the work of the witches. Ol' Carter's family dog kept barking at night, it must because there were witches on the prowl." The old man munched on the bread as he mumbled. He accidentally choked on some crumbs, "See, perhaps there were witches listening in on us and she made me choke. Ha ha...."
It was clearly a joke but Gu Jun's heart chilled. He studied the old man's shadow under the light. The sky outside was darkening… He knew the joke might not be entirely false. Kedou did mention seeing something in the 'shadow' before.  
"Legends about witches are what I grew up with." Mr. Joyce clearly did not think much about this. "Naturally there are stories about witches at Innsmouth, but based on my knowledge, it has nothing to do with the Dagon Cult. But there is a famous witch house at Arkham."
Gu Jun was surprised. Arkham was a location that the old man mentioned earlier. Gu Jun thought it was just a normal location but now it appeared like he was mistaken.  
"Arkham?" He prompted.  
"Arkham is the biggest city around this district. It's quite developed, at least compared to the rest of the district." Mr. Joyce explained. "That place is filled with strange legends too and one of them is related to the witches. But to explain that, I will have to tell you the stories about Salem that happened years ago."
Gu Jun did know his history but he did not stop the old man from telling his tale. After all, the history here might be different. But based on what he heard, everything sounded the same. The stories were about the Salem Witch Trials. It happened 200 years ago, in 1929. It started with a preacher's daughter at Arkham who fell under a strange illness. Soon after, the girls that she normally played with fell under the same illness. It did not take long for the illness to infect all the girls in the city. "They would scream and convulse. It was like they were possessed, making curse-like noises." Mr. Joyce regaled Gu Jun with these historical pasts. "At the time, no one, not even the doctors, knew what to do with it."
Gu Jun was silent. In medical history, the Salem Witch Trials was also an unsolved mystery. There was a hypothesis suggesting that the witches were actually victims of Tourette Syndrome but theoretically speaking, Tourette Syndrome was not contagious and it would not cause hallucination. Another hypothesis was that it was due to ergotism, a condition that develops from ergotamines, substances produced due to fungal contamination of grains. However, that did not explain why only the girls were infected. Due to the plague, the town of Salem underwent history's biggest witch hunt. According to the old man, several hundred people were captured and tortured. People died from public stoning and on the pyres.  
"Keziah Mason was one of the accused witches." Mr. Joyce continued, "But somehow this witch managed to escape from the Arkham prison and she vanished overnight! The next morning, the prison guard was found rambling incoherently. He claimed that Mason has used some lines and angles to open some kind of dimensional portal…"
The old man's disbelief in these stories was evident. From the old man's perspective, the Dagon worshippers did not have any superhuman ability, they were just delusional and crazy. He treated these local witch legends with the same attitude. The stories were most likely exaggerated. After all, if Mr. Joyce believed in the actual existence of the devil, he would not be in such a convivial mood with Gu Jun.  
However, Gu Jun's heart chilled from the story. According to Kedou, the witch's shadow walked out from the corner of her bedroom… That matched the story of how this Keziah Mason escaped from her imprisonment. However, that was not evidence enough for Gu Jun to confirm that this Kezain Mason was the witch behind the tragedy back on Earth.  
"In any case, Keziah Mason's home is located at Arkham." Mr. Joyce explained, "Naturally everyone gives it a wide berth."
Suddenly a thought dawned on Gu Jun. The reason why he was transported to this space and time… Could Arkham be his actual destination and not Innsmouth? Was he supposed to find some clues at this Witch House? Could this Keziah Mason be his 'big sister' or the existence with a thousand faces?  
While Gu Jun was thinking, the dogs outside the farm started to bray. It was followed by approaching commotion.  
"Joyce, you old bastard, someone saw you brought the heathen home!"
"You blasted old thing, hand over the heathen. Do you intend to have us killed, like you did Jack?!"
"Get out of my way, bitch!" With the curse, one of the dogs yelped in pain. Clearly the mob had arrived and their first victim was the innocent animals.  
"Damn it, damn it…" Mr. Joyce put down his bread and stood up. His beard trembled from anger. "Damn it, those bunch of boors have found their way here!"


The once-bustling and noisy streets were now filled with an eerie blanket of silence.
Hoarse and frenzied whispers lingered high above the heavens, and an indescribable ancient giant lurked in the shadows of the bottomless ocean.
A mysterious plague had outbroken, and natural disasters wrought the Earth. Global pandemic and catastrophes had the panicked masses seeking illusory shelters from the devastation, day and night.
A bloody shower poured over the land as the streaks of lightning tore across the sky, illuminating the ill-intentioned gathering of ravens above. Nevermore, nevermore, quoth the ravens.
"We can see that this malformed creature has twelve pairs of ribs like humans, but also has a "transverse bone" that humans do not possess..."
In the medical school, Gu Jun continued bringing down his scalpel, illustrating the abnormal thoracic structure of the malformed cadaver on the dissection table to the surrounding students.
Ominous and treacherous times had descended! Truth and logic had crumbled, order warped into a frenzy. Humanity can only forge ahead through the power of intelligence and wisdom.
Dive into this Lovecraftian horror and witness madness come to life. 

She had finally arrived... She had actually made it...

A redheaded woman had arrived at Border Town's city wall. She was quite petite, though made up for it with her other 'features'. She looked like she had only just turned 16 years old.

It was hard for her to survive the winter, as she was being chased by numerous witch hunters. She had to hide from both the hunters and demons, but somehow managed to survive it all and reach this promised land. 

"Halt! Who are you?" a man stationed on the crude city walls asked. 

"I... I'm..." she paused, "I'm Olivia, sir."

"I fear just telling me your name isn't going to cut it miss, I'm going to need to know your purpose of coming here. My name is Carter by the way," he responded.

"I... I want to serve Roland... Are the stories about him true? Does he really accept everyone?" the timid girl asked.

"Are you perhaps... a witch?!" he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. 

She nodded, afraid that the stories were a lie. Did she just walk straight into a witch hunter trap? At least she had tried...

---

Her worries were for naught, as shortly after the guard went to get some people, she was welcomed by two other witches. They were named Anna and Nightingale, two stunningly beautiful women.

Olivia saw how the witches were somewhat accepted in this territory. Some of the citizens still looked at them with a fearful gaze, but at least they didn't try to capture them as would have been the case in different towns.

The witches decided it would be better to immediately go to Roland with this new witch. He would be delighted to get another witch in his ranks. Nightingale told Anna that she should bring her there, as she herself had other tasks to complete. 

Anna quickly led Olivia to Roland's quarters, it was the place where he spent most of his time. 

"The king really likes studying, he's a great inventor! He invents crazy stuff on how to use our powers. We actually survived the winter for the first time! We proved our usefulness against the demons and even some of the citizens have started accepting witches..." Anna kept talking to the girl walking next to her. 

'It seems like she really likes Roland,' Olivia thought.

They soon arrived at his quarters. Anna knocked on his door, and swiftly entered when he allowed them in.

"Who's that?" Roland asked.

"It's a new witch, Olivia. She wishes to join your territory and serve you. It doesn't seem like she has bad intentions, but we should still be careful. We have no idea where she came from." Anna informed Roland.

"Hmm, I see. Where did you come from, Olivia? And why did you come here?" he asked her.

"I've heard stories, sir, stories that there is a place where witches aren't hunted..."

"There's no sir here. Please, call me Roland." 

Roland was delighted that the story seemed to be spreading amongst the witches, as he could really use their powers to develop his still shabby territory. 

"... Yes, sir... Roland... I came from Elea, a village in the mountain range nearby. I was chased out by some witch hunters, I had to survive the winter on my own... I met another witch, she told me her name was Leaf and that there was a Witch Cooperation Association, but that they... failed to survive..." she turned quite sad while telling her story, it seemed like she was on the verge of crying.

After waiting for a moment and recollecting herself, she continued, "Just before they were attacked by demons, a witch came to tell them about this place. That Sir Roland accepts all witches! The few survivors that the Association had are still hesitant about coming here, but I figured it was my last chance at a decent life, so I decided to come over here right away..."

Anna and Roland were quite touched at the girls' story. They also learned that the Association had been attacked?! They had no knowledge of that yet.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are your powers, Olivia?"

"I... I can't tell you!! I can't... It's too embarrassing..." she said, with a bright pink blush on her face.

After seeing how timid the girl was about revealing her powers, he asked Anna to leave them alone for now. Still a bit suspicious about the girl, Anna reluctantly left his room.

"Do you really accept ALL witches?" Olivia asked him personally.

"I promise you, how ridiculous your power might seem, I won't laugh at your power. I'll be able to find a good use for it. So yes, I really accept all witches, other people just haven't realized your potential." Roland reassured her. "If you really can't tell me, why don't you show me your powers instead?"

"Are you sure you want me to use my powers?" the blush on her face intensified, she was currently glowing as red as a tomato.

"If that's easier for you, sure!" he replied.

"You won't get mad at me?" 

"As long as it doesn't hurt me, I'm fine with it!"

"O... okay... I'll use it right now..."

-- WARNING: MATURE CONTENT --

When Nightingale reached the Witch Cooperation Association's hideout, she told all the witches that Roland would accept them into his territory and would allow them to live as free people.

The word of this quickly spread amongst witches, and Roland was quickly baptized as 'The Accepting Monarch'.

One witch, Olivia, was quite curious about this Roland... Would he really accept her, with her special powers as well? 

---
My entry for the RTW fanfiction contest.
Starts picking up from RTW's chapter 90.

"Oh, you're pretty good with this."

"Thank you, it's alright," Tyre replied modestly.

In the camp, there were some witches that were surrounding her. She was someone that came from outside, brought over by Nightingale. There were always some that curious to those that just newly arrived, and a lot would ask for some stories. If nothing else, it was to relieve their boredom and broaden their horizon by sharing experiences with each other.

Tyre was very patient. She began telling them some stories as they wished. While it was unknown whether they were real, she managed to make those hearing her convinced. What she told them was not exaggerated, yet at the same time, it was not something so plain that they would get bored in the middle. She would constantly whet their appetite.

"You're from King's City? To escape from there, you're really good." Someone said with a sigh.

For witches, cities with a powerful church influence were simply a nightmare for them. While there were some witches that had history escaping from such places, it didn't change the fact that it was far harder than walking away from an obscure place like Border Town. Some older witches even had a horrifying experience or two from confronting the church directly, which made the story even more impactful.

Tyre quietly nodded to their comments, on her face was hanging a light smile and a tinge of blush would appear on her cheeks from time to time when she was praised. It was hard to believe she was deceiving them with such calmness, though, technically she was not really lying and rather leading them in the wrong direction by using their own imagination by purposedly blanking some parts of the story.

For example, she described her life in King's City. How she escaped from there by masquerading as one of the maids that followed Roland Wimbledon for his quest of throne trial. After a while, she gained his trust and became an attendant maid. The process was not particularly tense, but it was a rather unusual story for the listeners that it grabbed them firmly.

The story was not false but she omitted the part where she was actually a spy or she was not as simple as a mere attendant maid; she was actually the head maid. She also didn't include how Roland used to get attracted by her like a pig to feed which made her entry easier. Yet, for the witches, when they had their assumption that Tyre was one of their kind, the story became a rather heart throbbing journey.

She also made an attempt to sow seeds of their plan by making Roland the main character in her stories.

Gossiping the royalty was something that came naturally. Even though they were now witches, many of them used to be just normal citizens. With the majority of them came from the Graycastle Kingdom, they were more or less aware of the rumors about the infamous Roland Wimbledon, the black sheep of the royal family and had a great expectation to his detailed activities.

Tyre described him to be someone not only good looking, but he was also a homely type of person that unexpectedly very good at cooking unlike the regular nobility and never, to her knowledge, slight his subordinates on a whim. He also later emptied his personal saving shortly after he came to Border Town, and telling how he bravely placed himself in the opposite of Duke Ryan by decisively cutting the monopoly Longsong Stronghold always had that made the Border Town populace repeatedly suffered and even had the tragedy of mass death from starvation two years ago.

With her position as an attendant, it was inevitable that she would often talk about him. She covered her bases well by making his presence seemed natural in her story.

To make things not so obvious that she was clearly selling his face, Tyre also mixed in her descriptions of him with some glaring flaws. She deliberately slipped in a hint of frustration to her voice when she was talking how Roland was quite lazy and usually only waking up from his sleep in the middle of the day, making the attending maids' schedule completely unpredictable. While he was not lecherous, he often made her awkward because he seemed to be very appreciated of her butt. The prince also made his workers worked more than they expected, at some point even the knights had to do grunts type of work because his demands were a lot more than the workers available.

Because what she told them was basically the truth, her descriptions were vivid and said very earnestly. To make it even more appealing, her expression would also often changes along with her tones of voice, depending on which part she was talking about. 

After listening to Tyre, some of them had only disbelief written all over their faces. The notoriety of Roland had been engraved to their mind for so long after all. However, after thinking more of the rumors, they made up the reasons for that by piecing together what Tyre said. For example, Roland was known to be lecherous, but Tyre had said he was never being blatant about it. Regardless, whether he was appreciating them like a piece of art or not, it can't avoid that some would report he was being a pervert.

Someone called him a pervert gentleman that invited a string of laughter, everyone agreed it had a nice ring to it.

But what appealed to them the most was how he saved Anna from the unjust trial, treated her nicely and reprimanded those saying otherwise. As she brought up Anna's history, her character quickly garnered sympathy. She also quoted what Anna once said to Nightingale that she heard from, but regardless of the reason, the fact was that Anna didn't follow them to the camp despite Roland gave her the freedom to choose.

Tyre was in conflict whether she should tell them that Roland apparently never wore god's stone of retaliation or not, and ended up keeping silent on that part. While it might be the truth, it would be something hard to swallow and would bring a needless suspicion instead. Tyre knew where to draw the line before it became strange and she cleverly stopped just before the witches about to saturate from her stories.

They were already so enamored by it anyway.


In an even bolder move than what they previously thought of, Tyre joined both Nightingale and Nana to the camp. According to Roland, witches had a subtle difference in atmosphere and aura compared to those normal women, but as Nightingale supplemented, without those that have the ability to see the flow of magic, it would be still difficult to say with absolute accuracy whether someone was really a witch. Even if the appraiser was a witch herself.

She didn't have a supernatural ability, but she made up with her atmosphere forged by professional training. If one asked what she could do, she simply answered them that she had keen senses and enhanced physical abilities. This was not a lie and she could prove it because she had indeed better eyesight and hearing than most. While her sense of taste can be said normal, she had tasted so many exotic spices and rare ingredients she doubted witches living in the wilderness could challenge her in that aspect. As for something like her physical capability, it didn't even need to be said.

While it was not as exaggerated, like twice as powerful than normal, it was enough to mislead people in the camp after a simple display. Many witches were still young, they were quite naive even if they had suffered from some kind of oppression in the past. In fact, they were even more vulnerable to those they thought was from the same side.

Tyre took advantage of that, but she didn't dare to be careless and carefully wove each of her words after putting some thoughts. She might be able to deceive dozens of them, but she didn't count those with years as they grew and learned to be suspicious.

For example, the leader of the witches. Roland had said with a grave expression that Cara had lost sight of herself and was possessed with obsession. People with that tendency was very careful with anything foreign and would not hesitate to act first before assessing the situation later.

She had been watching Cara from the corner of her eyes from time to time. While the snake witch looked calm, she actually listened to her story with great attention. If she didn't hear the precaution from Roland, she would believe that she was simply curious like any other when in fact she was silently observing.

As for her observation, Tyre had no fear. While she was still puzzled by how exactly Roland saw through her identity, she believed her facade was at least a professional level. The only problem was whether there was another witch that could tell whether someone a witch and unknown to Nightingale. So long without such people present, with Nightingale's guarantee, she should be able to easily assimilate herself.

It might take some time, but like what Roland said to them as parting words, haste made waste.

Her, their goal was clear from the start.

Save the witches from Cara and her Holy Mountain and bring back as many witches as possible.

In the familiar, yet an unfamiliar world where witches were just a part of supernatural facts that ran along with the world, Chen Yan found himself replacing someone called Roland, a prince regarded hopeless by everyone.

But as soon as he realized that fact, Chen Yan wanted to cry but had no tears. He bellowed inwardly, whoever in charge, you got the wrong person!

Chen Yan was indeed the name of the person who supposed to enter the stage and play the role of Roland... In the story, he read!

Having share just the name, education wise though, he couldn't possibly hope to replicate the mass technological breakthrough the protagonist with a firm engineering background in the original story made one after another.

Would he passed troubles after troubles, thrown by the almighty original plot with feeble education and superficial knowledge of the story he only read merely a hundred chapters in?

"I'll share the news with everyone tonight when they're all back at the camp!" She looked at Wendy and said in a deep voice, "I hope you'll help me to persuade them."

That was the last thing I heard before they went back to their own place. I went back to my camp and tried to process the information that I just gained, If what Nightengale said was true then who was the one who were hanged in the gallows that was being the talk of everyone in Border town. 

When night fell, the witches who had spent all day working outside returned to the camp. Seeing that Nightingale had come home safely, they were extremely glad and surrounded her to ask all about her journey. The white bandages tied around their injured arms weighed heavily on her heart. After answering a few questions thoughtlessly, she raised her hands to silence all witches. 

Chime was mixed in the crowd, listening to Nightengale's story. It took her some time to tell them everything. She began by telling them about the time she snuck into Border Town, the acquaintance of Roland, Anna, and Nana, then the construction of the wall, the assembly of the steam engine, the fighting against the demonic beasts, and finally Anna who had just passed through to her adulthood. Nightingale even took out the design of the steam engine to convince others that it was true. 
'So Nana went home safely, and steam engine? isn't that an invention from modern times? why did it appear in this world where magic is rampant, this prince roland is an interesting individual.'

Most witches had been cocooned in an isolated world since they joined the Witch Cooperation Association, so it was hard for them to imagine the outside world. They seemed charmed by the stories, and when Nightingale came to the part about Anna passing through the Day of Adulthood unscathed, they were abuzz. The Demonic Torture had haunted them all their lives. All these years they had suffered from hunger and cold, leaving behind the secular world and secluding themselves to the Impassable Mountain Range in order to seek the legendary Holy Mountain. If what Nightingale had said was true—a land where the lord would accept them and a method that would protect them from Demonic Torture, Holy Mountain seemed less worthy to pursue. 
Just then, the audience moved to clear a path for a green-haired witch who had half her face tattooed with serpentine. She walked towards Nightingale. 
'Cara seems angry, I better prepare for the worst if I want to meet this prince I would need the help of Nightengale to get close to him.' Chime approached the two slowly so that no one will notice her.

Just then, the audience moved to clear a path for a green-haired witch who had half her face tattooed with serpentine. She walked towards Nightingale. 
"Hello, my respected mentor," said Nightingale, as she bowed to the witch, "Snake Witch" Cara, founder of the Witch Cooperation Association. The witches in the association addressed her as mentor. 
"I've heard your stories," she said with a hoarse and hollow voice, "and you mean to tell us that all we have done is wrong?" 
"No, mentor, they aren't just stories. I mean..."
"Enough." She waved her hand impatiently. "I don't know what adventure you have been through, weaving your stories. A highborn prince who pities the poor witches? It's as silly as pitying a frog." She sneered as she turned around. Spreading her arms, she shouted, "Sisters, don't forget all of what the common people have done to you!" 
'Oh no, this is getting out of hand' Chime thought and she summoned her sword and edge slowly near Nightengale's back. Ready to pull her out if it's needed.
She went on without waiting for Nightingale's explanation. "There's no doubt that the common people, the incompetents, have targeted us with blades and whips in the name of gods. Without God's Stone of Retaliation, they have no authority to oppress us. It's deities who grant us the power, not the evils. It should be us who work on the behalf of deities, not the church. It should be us, the sisters of the Witch Cooperation Association! Holy Mountain, told in old books, refers to the quarters of deities." 
What?! Nightingale could not believe her ears. She had known that the leader of the Witch Cooperation Association was kind of eccentric, and although she was hung up on searching for Holy Mountain, she was far from mad. Despite not being as approachable as Wendy, Cara still sincerely cared for them. What Nightingale had not expected was that she would have such hostility toward ordinary people. 
Had Cara secretly buried her anger and hatred all these years? And what she had claimed, about being detached from worldly affairs, was this really a way to save power for striking vengeance without warning one day? What had made her uncover her disguise now? Maybe... 
"We've found the clue to the opening in Holy Mountain, the same as what we read from the old books! All we have to do is wait. In twenty days, when the blood moon rises in the sky, through a huge gate emerging from underground, we shall reach our final realm." She turned back, looking straight at Nightingale. "The common people have deceived you, and we've lived in a big fraud since we were born. What we've suffered in the Day of Adulthood is the test given by deities. One who is determined and resilient will obtain the true power. The church..." She sneered. "It's just a gang of common people who want to work in the name of deities. Sooner or later, all of them will go to hell." 
"And you, child. There's time for you to stop this." Cara paused. "I'll forgive your ignorance and fault if you forget your stories. We'll retake you as one of us, and together we'll find peace in Holy Mountain." 
Nightingale's initial excitement had cooled. The suffering was a test? The ones who did not make it through the torture on the Day of Awakening were simply worthless losers? The statements were exactly what the church was advocating. But no one stood out against these ideas, and instead, they wore a face of agreement. Even Wendy did not make a comment. Suddenly all turned dull and boring to her. Standing in front of her, the witch who was the founder of the Witch Cooperation Association and the leader of the witches seemed so unfamiliar. 
She shook her head. "In that case, I'll take those who're willing to go, and good luck with those who decide to stay." 
Chime noticed Cara slowly moving her hand but she was a bit too late to stop the snake before it bit Nightingale.
Nightingale felt a faint sting on her leg. She looked down and found a black snake with sparkling blue stripes biting her flesh. The Snake of Magic, which bore various venoms and was able to strike the target in silence, was often used by "Snake Witch" Cara. 
The paralysis struck her hard and quickly. Nightingale moved her lips and struggled to say something, but the darkness overwhelmed her. 
'I was too late huh, doesn't matter I'll just get her out later, it's too risky to fight this many witches alone' Chime backed out slowly while dissipating her sword. 'I'll just have to rescue you later, wait for me.'

Just a normal teenage girl, playing a VRMMORPG that's featuring guns, In the game I was GOD, they called me the GOG(Goddess of Guns) I have even dominated Sinnon and Kirito in the game and that was 1v2, they were so shocked to discover that I was even playing with them and not serious at all.


Training
After Grandpa left, the drake strapped a chrome blaster rifle to his back and took Ace further up the mountain, deep into the vacancy of the tropical rain forest. He told the boy about how the chrome rifles and hand blasters work. They were made to look like any other blasters, so as not to give away their identity as witch hunters, but they were hybrids. Each weapon had a switch on the handle within a thumb's reach, to switch the material they fired with. 
While most blasters shot a plasma material capable of burning holes through metal, these blasters could switch between plasma and antimagic. The hybrid rifles were called AMRs for anti-magic rifles, and antimagic hand blasters; AMHBs. 
"What's anti-magic made from?" Ace said as he reached out. The drake reached down, grabbed the boy's hand, and helped him over a rock ledge.
"Trees. They excrete a strange, orange substance."
Ace wrinkled his brow. "You mean tree sap?"
Rio chuckled. "No, not sap, although sap is mixed in with it. Don't really know what it is or much about it even. Your grandfather discovered it . . ." He placed his hand on his head. "What was I saying?"
Ace reminded him, and he continued to tell the boy about the key difference between plasma and anti-magic. Plasma shot to kill, but antimagic did just what it sounded like. It neutralized magic. Because, Rio explained, hunters don't kill witches, they capture them.
"Speaking of them, tell me everything you know about witches," the drake said as he swatted a dangling branch in their path.
Ace slapped a bug on his neck. "Uh . . . basically nothing."
"Nothing? Surely, you've heard the four signs of a witch before."
Ace paused a moment to think. "Well, I remember Grandpa told us stories a couple times. Sometimes, witches would leave trails of black dust behind. And there's the one famous story about Billy Mills and how he woke up thinking his house was on fire, but it turned out a witch was in the house and he was smelling her smoke. But those are just children's stories." His impatience crept into his tone. He wanted to ask Rio about different things. Like, why was Grandpa keeping all these secrets from his family? 
They reached a thin river flowing through a path of boulders staggering downhill. Rio stopped and turned sharply at the boy. He clacked his drake-tongue a couple times and said, "Just stories, huh?" Ace nodded timidly.
"You'll commonly hear tale of four signs a witch is nearby. Black dust, the smell of smoke, the feeling you're being lied to, and the sound of whispers when there's no light. Other than the black dust and the lying part, you're right; those are mostly just stories. Even the stories with black dust and lying are only slightly true."
A tingling, odd sensation unpleasantly crawled over the boy's skin. He eyed Rio curiously and gulped. "So . . . how do you actually tell a witch is around?"
"Patience and training," the drake said abruptly. "Witches aren't so easy to tell apart as they are in the stories." The drake pulled two black discs from a pouch in Ace's vest as he spoke."Some stories even go as far as saying they have green faces, or warts on their noses. Ridiculous things like that. The truth is they hide in plain sight. Their disguises are indistinguishable from a regular person, but not impenetrable." Rio pocketed the black discs and handed Ace the blaster rifle from his back. He moved the boy's hands into position on the handle. "The black dust you hear about in stories is partly true. But it's not so easy to track. When a witch lies and gets away with it, their disguise becomes harder to detect. If a hunter is skilled enough to detect the lies, he can call them out with the truth. This is a dangerous game, kid." He bent close and stuck his slimy nose in Ace's face. His snarl came through every word. "If you try to catch a witch in her lie, and you fail, she becomes stronger, and you become weaker."
"How can I become weaker?"
"Witches are after power. Every witch lies to get it, and when she succeeds, she will use her power to take down anyone who tries to prevent her from keeping it. You know who falls into that category? Hunters. Now, if you do catch her in her lie, and it works, her disguise will start to break apart."
Ace backed away from Rio's breath. It smelled like rotten fish. "Is
that where the black dust comes from? Her disguise breaking apart?"
Rio nodded and smirked. "You learn quick." He patted Ace on the shoulder.
"So, if we're just stopping them from lying, what's the rifle for?"
"What do you think happens when a witch's disguise starts to fall apart?"
Ace squinted at the drake, pooling his thoughts with no luck.
"Magic. They resort to magic. Guess how you stop their magic." He gently tapped the chrome rifle while giving the boy a facetious grin. He patted Ace's shoulders, turned around, and began leaping uphill like the frog man he was as he placed the black discs on the staggered rocks by the river. All the while shouting, "Try not to shoot any people. Only witches!" 
The discs projected holograms of pixelated cities and villages throughout the rain forest. The boy looked at his rifle, then at the crowds. How was he supposed to tell who the witches were? He wiped the sweat from his forehead, praying he'd come into some natural ability for detecting magic he never knew he had.

For hours, it seemed, Ace took his best guesses, but couldn't nab one. His mind was too far drifted. Wandering through faux resolutions as to why Grandpa had all these secrets. And what exactly was the Emerson Stone? Do the witches know Grandpa has it? Were witches actually real? If so, how was Ace supposed to know what they looked like? Eventually the drake's patience grew thin. 
"What was that?" Rio yelled from the hills. He shut off the hologram projectors and overlooked the hill down to Ace. 
"What? That wasn't a witch?" Ace asked. "Looked like a liar to me!"
Rio hopped at great lengths down each hill and landed just in front of the boy. "What in Eathelyn Summers made you think that was a witch?" 
"Uh.I don't know.she looked suspicious, I guess," Ace said.
"Oh, she just looked suspicious, huh? Children look suspicious when they steal candy, Ace. You can't just up and shoot someone with antimagic because they looked suspicious!"
The frog man's tone affirmed the rumors of drakes being shorttempered, and it started to anger the boy as well. He was sweaty and exhausted. Not to mention, hunting witches wasn't exactly the future he had dreamed for himself.
He puffed his chest and poked Rio with his first finger. "Look, up until an hour or two ago, I had no idea that I was a witch hunter's grandson. Much less that I'd be responsible for taking over the family business! I'm new to this, so give me a break!" 
Rio scoffed at him and hopped up a couple of hills ahead. Then he stopped and turned to face the boy. "Go back to your family for the night. We'll resume training again soon."
Ace threw his blaster rifle to the ground and stormed into the tropical forest. Rio mumbled under his breath in anger, but Ace heard every word of it.
"Of all the gifted kids that old man could pick, he chose that talentless little snot," Rio said. Ace clenched his fists and grit his teeth. 
Maybe the frog man is right, thought Ace. I am talentless. 
He violently whacked at the plants in his path. Without a blade, it was going to be a long trip. The training had taken place about a fifteen minute's hike away from the cave with the armory, which existed another half hour away from the cabin. The humidity crawled on his skin, bugs attacked him by the hundreds, and his fatigued legs and feet ached with every step. Maybe there were some negatives to this city after all. Only one thing urged himself to carry on trudging his way back home. A long discussion with Grandpa. He was determined to get to the bottom of this. 
After a grueling journey, Ace made it to the cabin. He burst open the front door and plopped down on the soft couch. Oddly, the whole place was empty, and his eyelids grew heavy. He could have a discussion with Grandpa when he woke up, but for now, he needed to rest. The sounds of the animals in the forest outside, and the faint rumble of waterfalls in the distance complimented the silence in the cabin. Slowly, his surroundings faded, and his consciousness drifted. 

"Ah, done with training I see," Grandpa said. Ace shot up and tried to gather himself. The spinning room worsened his fuzzy head. He saw Grandpa standing in the doorway of the cabin. It took a second, but the room stopped spinning, and Ace finally told dream from reality 
"Grandpa," he said, "where's everyone else?"
"They're at the beach," Grandpa said. "Your grandmother finally convinced the Peppercorns to get out of the cabin and enjoy themselves." Good. They were alone. Time to get to the bottom of things.
"What's going on? What's this business about you being a witch hunter?" Ace asked.
Grandpa stepped closer, looking around the cabin as if someone may be watching. When the old man saw the coast was clear, he sat down on the couch next to his grandson. 
"I haven't had much chance to speak with you since we've arrived.
We must be very careful, Ace. I don't know who may be listening."
Grandpa's curious behavior sobered Ace from his sleepiness. 
"Rio doesn't know about the stone. He only knows that I'm leaving my business to you, and that he's to train you. In fact, no one knows about the stone. You must keep it that way."
Ace nodded, then stood from the couch and paced the floor. The past couple of days, a frantic unraveling of wild events, proved too much to handle. Brimming at the boy's lips, questions finally gushed forth like a New Eathelyn waterfall. 
"Grandpa. What does the stone do? I mean, I thought it was just a legend until you showed it to me. Why do you want me to take over the business? Since when have witches been real? How long have you been a witch hunter? Is Marty Halder even your real name?" Ace panted and paced and soon grew frustrated to see Grandpa laughing at him. "This isn't funny! I'm sore all over from training, and I don't even know exactly what I'm training for. Tell me what's going on!"
"Alright, alright, calm down, son. Have a seat and take a deep breath," Grandpa said. He walked over to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the sink, then handed it to the boy. "I know you have a lot of questions, that's to be expected. I will do my best to explain what I can, but much of what's happened recently is as much a mystery to me as it is to you."
Ace took a large gulp from the water. Which turned to several gulps. Which turned to an empty glass and a thirst still unquenched. Grandpa chuckled as he brought the empty glass back to the kitchen.
"Alright, Ace," Grandpa said as he turned on the sink to refill the glass, "let's start with what I know." He walked back to his grandson and handed him the water. "The reason I've brought us to New Eathelyn is to introduce you to Rio. His training and guidance will help you better understand the task you've been chosen for." Grandpa leaned his head close and whispered, "Evil creatures are lurking everywhere, all over Yutara. And the closer you get to destroying the power of the seventh realm, the bigger a target you become."
Chills ran up Ace's spine. The dark cabin and the sound of the forest outside was a spooky combination with Grandpa's lore.
"Why, Grandpa?" Ace whispered back.
"Because they're looking for something," Grandpa said. His voice was quieter every time he spoke.
Ace's eyes widened. He stood quickly from the couch, his heart pounding through his chest. "The stone?"
Grandpa tipped his head with a yes and a sly smile.
"But, I don't have it. You do. And I thought I was the only one other than you who knew about it."
"As of late, that is true. But soon it will not be the case."
"I don't understand."
"Listen, son," Grandpa placed his hand on Ace's shoulder and brought him back to the couch. He lowered his head, revealing his intense eyes, "there's an evil greater than you can imagine lurking through Yutara. Members of this evil know things beyond our understanding, and they will use it against you if they can. The worst part about them is that they hide in plain sight, just before your very eyes. You won't know it until it's too late. Trust no one. 
"Now, listen close. Once the map is revealed to you, you may not even know it. But the stone will become yours at that time. Keep your eyes and ears peeled, son. When you begin to uncover the map, the evils in Yutara will be awakened to your presence and possession of the stone. This will not happen until you are prepared to meet the challenges this journey will bring." 
Ace felt chills again. He sank further into the couch. What had Grandpa gotten him into?
"Oh man!" Cameron yelled from behind. Ace and Grandpa shot up and saw the older Halder standing in the doorway. They hadn't heard him walking up the porch steps. How much had Cameron heard? "Those stupid Peppercorns are gonna drive me insane!" He said as he walked further in the house. Cameron shook his head, and sand spilled to the wooden floor.
Ace and Grandpa looked at one another with relief. It seemed Cameron had just walked in and heard nothing of their conversation.
"What did they do?" Ace asked.
"Well, I was just making a sand castle, minding my own business. This girl walked by, and I stopped to wave at her. Then, out of nowhere, Julie and Tamara come from behind and shove me into the castle I made. And as if that wasn't enough, they dumped a bunch of sand all over my head. Apparently, they had been planning this, because they conveniently had a bucket filled to the brim with sand."
"What's their problem?" Ace said.
Grandpa leaned over the back of the couch, "Go ahead and wash up,
I'll have a talk with the Peppercorns."
Cameron nodded and walked down the hall, mumbling in frustration.
"We'll have to continue our discussion later," Grandpa whispered to Ace. 
Ace nodded. But before he could leave, Grandpa pulled him close and whispered even quieter, "I've put the stone in a trap door under your side of the bed and the watch that unlocks it is beside it. I changed the settings to match your fingerprints so only you can open the chest. When the time is right, take it with you. Until then, don't so much as look at it."




A witch’s most powerful tool isn’t magic, it’s deception.

Since witches only exist in fairy tales, Ace Halder never put much thought into the matter. But when he discovers a mysterious stone entrenched in myth on his grandfather’s ancient ship, he’s forced to confront the lies he was raised to believe.

Not only are they real, they’re taking over the world one wicked deed at a time. Now only one thing can stop them. The Emerson Stone.

Ace is faced with a choice. Run and hide? Or risk everything at one last chance to save Yutara.

-Well, you know how they say around ... There is something besides those trees on the old hill. They are ancient and cursed lands ...- Mary spoke with intonation in her voice before the small audience.
The whole house was still in the dark after the lights at Rew Mountain had gone out.
"Is it really true that on a night like this you decided to tell stories like that?" Patty grunted, looking into the younger sister's wide eyes.
-And what lives there? - Carol Ane held her breath in anticipation.
Mary smiled indulgently and winked knowingly at the child. She was an eighteen-year-old teenager. She had finished school that summer and was working in the small town cafeteria. There were so few opportunities to get distracted without having to save every penny to get out of Rew Mountain. She dreamed of being an actress. Loz Angeles waved like the golden dream of her expectations.
-For the love of God! Not again! Not the story of the old curse ...- Patty sighed miserably.
She hated nights like that and even more lightning and thunder storms.
-Now! - Mary pretended not to understand and took another candle with a provocative smile.
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head and blew the air out of her parted lips with satisfaction. It did not take long for the glow of the flame on her wick to shine clearly in the gloom.
-It all starts with the arrival of witches here. Rew Mountain didn't even exist yet. Everything here was just an immense forest.
-God! She's really going to tell me again! "Patty sighed in resignation.
"And why had witches come here?" The child asked curiously.
Mary stared at Patty's gaze, making clear the attraction she felt for the girl. Patty hadn't reacted as badly as Richard after all the confusion, but still ... She feared she would lose her chances of winning the girl of her dreams.
-A long time ago, Carol Ane, very long time ago. In a small town like this, there were several crimes and disputes over land. Salem was a place dominated by the Church. Do you believe that women were submissive to men? And then on a winter day, the pastor's daughter got a strange illness. She squirmed, screamed in pain and burned with fever.
Carol Ane looked at Mary with childish looks of admiration delighting in horror stories.
- Did they cast a spell on her?
-God, Carol Ane! - Patty complained about the sound. - Spells don't exist.
Mary widened her smile even more, sitting on the counter by the sink and pretending to think seriously.
-Well, six more girls fell sick like that. And the doctor found nothing.
-Look, they say it was maybe an asthma attack or even epilepsy, Mary.- Patty contradicted her.
"You forgot to say that they also talked about child abuse." Mary added with little case.
-And ... - Carol Ane in her eight years of age was haunted.
-Well, they screamed in pain, and said they were being pinched. The body burned with a fever to hallucinate ... And then panic came. As the doctor found no reason, they said that it was a supernatural evil. There was a slave in the city who told stories of witches ... She talked about legends and voodoo.
"Mary, the slave only confessed to being a witch to escape the gallows." Patty twisted the expressions on her angelic face with displeasure.
-And she confessed her crimes and pointed out others like her who used witchcraft. And so they made a great judgment. 150 people were arrested and executed killed twenty. If your neighbor glared at you, there were good chances of being accused of rudeness, Carol. So that among these innocent people there were three real witches.
-Oh!
-Right, and they managed to escape it is not known why the trial and ended up here by Rew Montaun. End of conversation.
Dear Ane grimaced in profound disgust as a summary and Mary laughed amusedly.
-It was not quite like that, and you know ... They invoked an ancestral power ... One of the guards who watches over the cells fell in love with one of those witches. He succeeded during the confusion in which they accused the head of the church to convince the women that they were dead from some disease and had to remove the alleged bodies from there before they stank. It was days of travel running away from those crazy and hysterical people as far as they could.
- Anyone want popcorn? We can make sweet popcorn and the sodas are still cold. The light looks like it will take a long time to come back.
"And what's beyond the hill in those forests?" Carol Ane whispered to Mary when her sister finished the story.
Mary sighed thoughtfully.
-They say there's a creature, Carol Ane. Someone who lives among us. During the day you can't even know who it is. It may be your neighbor, your best friend, or even a relative. They name these things Haru. The one who walks among the shadows. And when night falls, once again his spirit is free. It roams the woods, hunting and feeding on those who violate these lands.
Carol Angel set her feet on the floor in disappointment.
"I thought you were going to say it was a werewolf or a vampire," the girl complained with her head down. - I kept a stake and some garlic heads under the bed. Did I already say that the PE teacher is a very strange guy?
Patty's sparkling eyes went to Mary.
-My father is going to kill me with this one, Mary.
Mary shook her head.
-These things are much worse, Carol Ane. They can be by your side and you don't even know. - The girl decreed with a philosophical shrug. - They like to feed on people. Imitate any voice to deceive you and then ... bye. It is too late to escape from a Haru. You may even have a chance to escape from his sharp teeth and claws or be taken to your caves to stay as food during the winter while the overwintering creature. They say that only a Haru cursed by witches goes out during the winter to hunt.
Patty crossed her arms, oblivious to all diplomacy.
-She will pee in bed and you will change and wash the sheets, Mary.- The protest was categorical as a death sentence.
Mary returned the look of ulterior motives that made Patty bite her lip in anger at herself. 
The whole scandal with the perfect Miss was still choked in her throat. She was not Richard to make another scandal even worse, but she was going to demand many explanations.
-I'll make the popcorn and get more candles. - decided resolutely.- I need the flashlight to search the basement. And I don't even want to hear about Harus' stories, Mary. They do not exist. You have a very fertile mind with all this nonsense that your descendants are also founding members of Rew Mountain, you know?
----------
Jack's testimonials.

"Oh my God! Please. whatever is around here, make it go away! Make this thing go away!"
Great, Jack!
 Where did you get yourself into? I think I blacked out of nowhere. I will be more careful with meals. I could have sworn it was Rick's voice calling me over there among the trees on the hill and I know that it could not be Rick at all because he was arguing with me over the phone. It doesn't change the facts that there was something there.
I try to move my legs again and I can't. Everything is dark around. I hate the darkness. And the sound of stealthy, light steps is closer than before.
Puts.
I am gonna puke. The smell is awful. A smell of death. The smell is a mixture of vomit, shit, urine and sweat. I also don't know how long I've been like this, but the sensation of numbness in my legs is terrible. My wrists are tied. Does that mean I'm missing a few hours? Someone was already looking for me.
-Help! - I screamed loudly and swallowed the urge to vomit hard.
Damn darkness.
I can't see anything. And I don't even know if I want to see it. I need to ignore the fear in the pit of my stomach.
There were ancient legends ...

"Please God! Make it go away! I don't want to die here. I'm afraid of the dark!"
I try to move again and I have only managed to worsen my position, lying on the ground on a pile of damp, dead leaves and something else. 
They are not just leaves. I can feel hard objects that hurt my body because of the uncomfortable way I am. I also don't want to know what they are.
My imagination is a thousand remembering stories from when I was just a child.
 And I hear the low, faint sound of a groan. It makes me breathe with such relief that tears fill my eyes.
"Is anyone here?" I try again.
Where was I after all? 
Was that a cave? Shit! There are no caves around here. But nobody really likes to explore the oak forest with the superstition of witches who are persecuted and condemned to death.
And then I can hear it clearly with pure horror. 
There are screams! There are hallucinating screams of pain and the sound of something tearing and cutting. The smell of blood is strong and sickening, reminiscent of rust.
The chill goes up my spine as I no longer have the means to deny what I hear. 
The moans last very little until the inarticulate sounds are silent, giving way to new ones that are by no means human. The noise of something being torn and torn apart is replaced by something worse. Holy shit. It is that kind of sound that can be used up! Anyone can be creepy. The sound of friction made me shiver.
Rick!
I manage to close my eyes, modifying my lips to hold back the scream that threatens to escape my ghastly and insane throat.
I am totally paralyzed and it is not the ropes that I now see tying my hands and feet. It's fear. My subconscious is sending all sorts of messages from my memories, telling me what that is.
-Jack, my dear ...
Rick's voice vibrates next to me. 
But the smell and the cold there terrify me, knowing it can't be him.
They imitate any voice.
 Any human voice. 
The bite of it can split you in half and the claws behead your head.
"Okay, I hate old legends. I hate the details even more."
Be quiet, girl. Do not move. Just be still that he can't see you, I thought to myself.
It was even too easy.
 My mind was running wild giving images of the horror stories I heard at camp.
They have chapped and bloody lips, eye deep in their sockets, long limbs and love to store food in caves in winter when they decide to hibernate.
Shit, that wasn't a Wendingo. 
It was something else. 
A curse was said to have loomed over the city after one of the witches who arrived here was killed while still pregnant. They are terribly troubled and vengeful spirits. Turning her into a Haru hadn't been much better, had it?

I mentally made a list of the things that said they could kill those things. A silver ax. The hysterical laugh threatened to overwhelm me.
 You don't leave the house taking one just for security, do you?
Harus were mythological creatures and cannibals. 
They were devourers of the dead. They feed at night. The worst thing is that in the morning they are human, a man or a woman with the shy way and quiet personality.
Only at night they become creatures with red eyes and sharp claws and whitish skin.
-Jaaaackkk ....
Again the voice echoes through the walls. 
I was having little success in not imagining what I was lying on.
It now emitted the ticking noise of darkness. Look directly into a person's eyes and if your reflection is upside down, then you've just met a Haru.
These things can disguise both people and animals.
 The way is to escape the 'tick-tick-tick' noise coming from the darkness. The lower the noise, the closer it is to you. And hungry. No one will want to become one of those.
Jack mentally swore. 
Damn legends. 
It was assumed that legends were not true. It was just children's stories. The story of a woman who achieved physical beauty through black magic. She makes a pact in exchange for supernatural powers and must go forty days without eating meat. Here comes the problem of the curse. A broken pact. And suddenly a sucker and a death eater.
"Please ... please go away!"

Everyone hides the strange things that happen in the small town. Things disappear, the radios stop working. And no signal on cell phones. It was not overnight that the local population got lost in the "everyone knew" superstition. The weather conditions there seem to be ignored. I'll tell you a secret. The small town of 1500 inhabitants was founded by a group of witches who fled the Inquisition. And nobody likes to comment on the mysterious disappearances that happen there after dark falls. The forest beyond the hill is home to an ancient evil.
Richard Walker is one of the most desirable singles in the area. Son of the mayor, he has no idea that his father will be able to do anything to keep him from Jaqueline Handall because of a great secret from the past. Everything changes when a choir is found in the vicinity of the oak forest.
When he finishes medical school, all he wants is to win the girl of his dreams.
Jack only thinks about selling the old family house after the unexpected death of his parents. It will emerge in your life bringing mysteries that will take you beyond all limits in a supernatural world as you struggle to escape seductive promises and hideous temptations.

Tasting mode
Contains explicit sex scenes. mature literature

I woke up and looked around the room, it was a log house. Did I seriously get kidnapped while already being kidnapped? The blankets on the bed didn't stink, but you could tell they was old. I sat up in bed trying to gather my thoughts. This must be Celeste's house. I felt sad, I hope Taylor is okay and they aren't hurting her. "knock knock," I heard Celeste say as she opened my door. I flung my hand up to slam the door in her face.
            "How dare you kidnap me." I said angerly. "I see why you are angry, but I knew they would never let you leave that house. I heard them coming and I knew if I didn't get you out right then they would have grabbed you." I allowed the door to open. Maybe she really did have my good intentions in her mind, just a bad execution. "so why bring me here?" I asked. 
            She walked into the door and sat at the end of the bed. "we need a high priestess, and you would fit it perfectly." I sat there shocked, why me? "can you not just like elect someone?" she laughed. "that isn't how this works. Yes, we can temporarily elect someone, but the stronger the high priestess, the stronger the coven. Whoever is in your coven will gain your strengths, since your very powerful, we in return would gain power ourselves." She said looking at me. "I see, so you don't want me, you want to be stronger with my magic."
            "So how do I go about being elected?" I asked. "well you won't go unopposed. Other witches who think they are stronger than the rest will try to get it. They don't know about you; they don't know about your mark. Of course, we have heard stories over the years." She piqued my interest. "what stories?"
            "I used to think it was just stories that witches told their children as bedtime stories but seeing you yesterday with the Original vampires made me realize that it wasn't a story that it was a prophecy." She nervously played with the hem of her shirt. "I-I-I- do not remember it all, but what I do remember is this 'a strong witch born of witch blood and Nephilim blood would become the high priestess, she would bring the witches into a new era of witches. We will be stronger than we ever have because of her. The Nephilim will turn on her, but the vampires and the witches will protect her.'"
            I looked at her in disbelief. A story about me? "there is only one problem" I said to her. "I don't know what a Nephilim is, and I'm pretty sure I'm not one." She looked at me, "but you are a Nephilim, while you were asleep, I took a little of your blood and did an origins spell on it. Your blood is that of a strong witch and an archangel." I was getting a headache. "no, that isn't possible, I've met my parents, they aren't witches or angels. They are just normal, everyday humans, living mundane lives." She looked at me, I could see it in her eyes that it pained her to be having this conversation with me. 
            "Then you are adopted. I have another old mothers' tail to tell you, it won't be pretty" she paused. "I'm pretty sure its how your parents died." I gulped "okay, tell me." She continued. "Story has it that years ago, a high priestess named Ava was in love with an archangel named Michael. It is very forbidden for them to be together. The angels see witches as demons, not that of nature. But Michael loved Ava anyways. They wanted children together, but Ava's demon blood, and angel blood always killed the baby after they was born. They weren't strong enough." She paused.
            "One day Ava gave birth to a beautiful young girl who lived through the night. The Nephilim was alerted by the baby's powers, so they came down to earth to take the baby and kill heavens abomination. In order to keep their daughter safe, the high priestess used every drop of her powers to conceal the baby's mark, but it wasn't enough. So, Michael finished the job buy using his heavenly powers to finish the concealment. Between being so upset over loosing Ava and loosing almost all his magic, he fled back to heaven to regain his strength." She looked at me, but it was a lot to process.
            I looked at her not sure what to say, I was replaying the story in my mind. "So, what you are saying is, my parents aren't really my parents. My birth mother is dead, and my real father is an angel in heaven?" I was in shock; it is a lot to take in. She nodded "I know it is a lot to take in, but we need you to be our high priestess. The competition for the spot starts tonight so we need to get going." As if this wasn't enough already. "tonight? I thought you said I would go unopposed" I asked her.
            "well once they see your mark you should go unopposed yes. Power wise, you completely got it. But its more then just being powerful, you have to display that you know magic and control it to help lead and train future generations to come." She sounded irritated like I was supposed to already know this stuff. "I don't know magic." I reminded her. "that is okay, you have your mark and you have your abilities, it should be enough." She said getting off the bed and handing me a deep red robe. "What is this?" I asked once it was in my hand.
            "A robe." She deadpanned. "uh, no crap I see that. But what I am asking is why are you handing me one." I asked giving her attitude. "we like to keep things traditional. You can not walk into there asking to be the high priestess in modern human clothes. You want the part; you have to act the part." She said putting her hands on her hips. "I don't want the part." I reminded her. 
            "I understand, but this is your birth right. Its was your mothers spot, you need to follow in her footsteps. You have the power to bring us into a whole new era. Our numbers have dwindled and continue to fall daily. You can save us all." She got down on her knees and bowed to me. "Please help us." As if on que, other witches walked into the room all getting onto one knee bowing to me. "please" they all repeated at the same time. Awh hell, how am I going to say no.
            "Okay, how am I going to win this." I asked looking at everyone in the room. "well first you must look the part. The rest you will have to do on your own. But we all agree, you can do it." They all stood up, some walked out of the room while others lingered to shake my hand. "What will you do for your talent?" a young man in his early 20s asked. He had dark hair and skin, beautiful golden eyes. 
            "Talent?" I asked Celeste looking her in the eyes. She nodded "assuming you don't go unopposed, you will have to actually show you can use magic. The flashier the better. Most people show if they have more than ability. With your abilities, id show them what you got. What on earth could I show them? I asked myself. "unfortunately, it is time to go we have no time to train." She put her hands in mine, I started to feel and see little lights tickling my body as we teleported somewhere else. Awh hell, I was going to have to wing it.

A 17-year Chloe suddenly founds out that nothing is as it seems. People are not who they say they are. She also learns that all of the legends are true. A Vampire king wants to make her his, but so does her oath- bound Warrior. Shortly after meeting her birth family, she comes face to face with her mother’s killer. Her mother’s killer isn't the only danger she faces.
How can she survive learning her newly founded witch powers, protect her High Priestess status, manage her own happiness and take down the Dragon Queen?

Scroll knocked on the door and someone quickly answered, "Come in." 
Entering the room she saw Anna sitting at a table by the window, where she was reading a thick book. The sun streamed through the window, lengthening her silhouette. Her soft cheeks and delicate neck looked fair under the sun's reflection, and her ash-brown hair, that covered her shoulders, almost appeared gold. 
After getting along with her for a week, Scroll had basically understood Anna's temperament, such as straight-forward, honest, steady and quiet, especially studious... In short, it was difficult to find a civilian who had a pure and peaceful soul like Anna. 
"Are you going to play the card game?" Scroll moved a stool and sat down beside Anna. After practice, the sisters would rush back to the castle and squeeze into Soraya's room to play Gwent. They had fun and enjoyed fighting for cards from each other's collections. Even Nana Pine, who had been playing with Anna daily, had been coming by less after learning how to play the game. It was uncommon since the little girl with the magic healing power was almost always to be found in Anna's room. 
"I want to keep reading," Anna turned the page and said, "I don't have an ability like yours, so I should spend more time on this." 
She had read all kinds of books, everything from historical biographies to long poetry, including the folks' tales Scroll had heard being told in the streets; she was interested in all things, as long as it was in a book. 
Scroll lovingly patted her head and said, "Don't worry. I'll tell you all that I remember in the books." 
[This is the child who changed the fate of the Witch Cooperation Association's survivors,] Scroll thought. Nightingale would have never come to Border Town, nor met with Prince Roland from the Kingdom of Graycastle, and everything else that happened after would not have happened either. In other words, she was the savior of all witches. 
That was partially why she was so fond of Anna. When Scroll had gained the insight from the Book of Magic, Anna had quickly accepted her and showed her great admiration, so much so that Scroll considered it a little ridiculous. There had been no one admiring her ability in the Witch Cooperation Association. Anna had the largest capacity for magic that Scroll had ever seen, with the exception of Nightingale, and her ability to control the green flames came with a very high attack power. 
"Your hair is a little long," Scroll lifted Anna's bangs out of her eyes and said, "Does no one help you cut your hair?" 
She shook her head and said, "I'd normally thread it myself." 
Scroll's interest was immediately peaked and she said, "Threaded hair doesn't look as good, let me trim it for you." 
"Do you even know how to do this?" 
"I gave most of the sisters' their haircuts when I was in the Witch Cooperation Association," Scroll smiled and then said, "Hold on a moment and I'll get my tools." 
She quickly came back with a sack clutched in her hand. After spreading out the folded layers of white cloth, a pair of bronze scissors were revealed. They were well worn, both sides of the grips were covered with scratches and the blades had been polished from frequent use.  Scroll had relied on this pair of scissors for a living before joining the Witch Cooperation Association—she had been a hairdresser in the pub of Seawindshire. The extra bronze royals she had earned, after buying bread, was given to a captain with a broken leg in exchange for him teaching her how to read and write, this went on until he passed away from old age. 
Scroll proficiently shook out and spread the white cloth over Anna, carefully tying it around her neck, and adeptly began trimming the long pieces of hair. 
"I... have a question to ask you." 
"What's that?" Scroll's fingers were dancing with the scissors in her hand, the blades constantly opening and closing, making a crisp cutting noise. Anna's ash-brown hair adeptly slipped through her fingers, falling to the floor, cluster by cluster. 
"About the book you gave me yesterday, many of the stories end in the same way. Is it fated for a prince to marry a princess?" 
Her hand paused a moment. The storybook was not a typical book, it was a collection of folks' tales that she had heard living in Seawindshire over the years. However, Scroll had filtered out the stories without a happy ending, where the prince and princess didn't end up together and compiled them into the book Anna was reading. 
She had known that Anna would ask about this after reading the stories, however, she did not want to answer honestly. 
"Most of them do, of course, there are some situations where a prince marries a grand duke's daughter. For example, King Wimbledon III of the Kingdom of Graycastle married the daughter of Duke Silverlight." 
After replying, Scroll silently sighed, feeling it in her heart. Wendy had mentioned Nightingale's thoughts to her, but when compared to the mature and calm shadow killer, she felt more concern about Anna, to whom His Highness felt affection. Everyone could see her importance to him. Roland could not keep his eyes off Anna whenever she was around. She was busier than the other sisters and he did not change her sleeping arrangements. After bunking Nightingale and Wendy together, Roland had explained that Nana could share a bed with Anna when she stayed the night, never realizing that his decision needed no explanation since he was the lord of the manor. 
Anna's reactions to His Highness were similar. She wouldn't really talk when she was with the other witches and preferred to be a quiet listener.  However, she would become active and more animated when Roland was around. Scroll thought, that if there was ever something or someone that could tear Anna's eyes from a book, it would have to be Prince Roland. 
Unfortunately, Roland was the fourth Prince of the Kingdom of Graycastle and the future king. He would be supported by the witches and Anna was one of those witches. 
This was not something she could tell Prince Roland, so she had to find a way to indirectly mention it to Anna. She didn't want there to be any misunderstandings, but she also didn't want to see it end in tragedy. 
"Why?" Anna shook her head, knocking the broken pieces of hair off her neck. "What if the prince doesn't like the princess or the lady from the nobles' family?" 
"Um..." Scroll didn't think that she would ask that. "He would still have to marry one. Since the prince is likely destined to be king, his marriage isn't just up to him." She tried to remember the relevant knowledge recorded in the book. "As a way to stabilize and unify the nobles from the bordering kingdoms, and to appease the shifting neighboring countries, or to even make strategic deals, a king had to marry for the benefit of his people. However, most importantly the king must have heirs." 
Anna did not continue to pursue her question and Scroll felt relieved. This delicate of a matter would take time and careful persuasion and she thought that someday Anna would understand. After she had finished trimming Anna's bangs, she brushed them with her fingers and smiled, "Not bad, you look more energetic." 
Anna bowed and said, "Thank you." 
"So, for today's book..." Scroll contemplated a moment and then decided to summon a book about the revolution of the Kingdom of Wolfheart's history. She thought this book would support the information she imparted today. "Let's pick a family biography." 
She was about to leave when Anna suddenly spoke with the Book of Illusion in her arms, "I don't think Roland is the prince in these stories." She sounded certain and not as if she were trying to persuade herself. "He would do what he wanted. regardless of his imparted duty." 
"..." Scroll was shocked. "What makes you say that?" 
"If he was a prince like in the stories, he wouldn't have rescued me." 


Chen Yan travels through time, only to end up becoming an honorable prince in the Middle Ages of Europe. Yet this world was not quite as simple as he thought. Witches with magical powers abound, and fearsome wars between churches and kingdoms rage throughout the land.  
Roland, a prince regarded as hopeless by his own father and assigned to the worst fief, spends his time developing a poor and backward town into a strong and modern city, while fighting against his siblings for the throne and absolute control over the kingdom. Join Roland as he befriends and allies with witches and, through fighting and even farming, pushes back invaders from the realm of evil.

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