novelnext Chapter 112 Witch's Contract
Chapter 112 Witch's Contract
Chapter 111 Witch's Contract
The cold morning wind swept across the newly built three-tiered city wall. Lorraine stood against the wind, the camp relocation order laid flat in his palm.
The city walls have been built, but the Witch's Tower has not yet been placed in its proper location. Today, he has come to further arm Frostwolf City.
He channeled his mental energy into the camp relocation order, and a list of buildings in the subspace unfolded in his mind.
The icons of the Twenty-Four Towers of Entropy, the Twelve Towers of Thorns, the Six Towers of Doom, and the Twelve Towers of Magic Cannons were neatly arranged, waiting for him to assign them.
"Anna's Tower of Entropy is located in the northern and western sections —"
Lorraine muttered to himself, tracing the relocation order with his finger.
A black iron spire fell from the void and precisely embedded itself in a pre-reserved groove at the top of the city wall.
The moment the tower and the city wall merged into one, a layer of pale blue light appeared at the joint, and then disappeared.
The second, the third, the fourth —
The Towers of Entropy are arranged at staggered intervals on the northern and western sections of the city wall. Every two Towers of Entropy, Lorraine inserts a Tower of Thorns or a Tower of Doom.
Different types of witch towers are arranged in an alternating pattern, with their ranges and functions overlapping each other.
Ohm's twelve magic-powered heavy artillery towers were positioned in the eastern and southern sections, which are the directions facing Frostwolf City inland and are most likely to be attacked by human armies.
"Cross-deploy heavy artillery turrets and entropy towers — place doom towers at node positions, and thorn towers to fill in blind spots —"
""
Lorraine took two steps back, examining the staggered cluster of towers on the city wall.
Fifty-four witch towers surround Frostwolf City, each capable of firing independently, while adjacent towers can form a crossfire network.
Any enemy attempting to approach the city walls will simultaneously suffer multiple attacks from the Time Acceleration Ray, Thorn Entanglement, Curse of Doom, and Magic Cannon.
He nodded.
The defenses on the city walls are sufficient.
Next is the city.
The mental energy was once again channeled into the relocation order, this time relocating the witch's exclusive buildings: Anna's Flame Altar, Lyra's Clock Tower of Fate, Olivia's Plant Armory, and Ohm's Universal Mechanical Repair Factory.
These four buildings are not offensive witch towers; they require more space and a more stable foundation.
Lorraine had already instructed Victor to clear out a vacant lot in the center of the city.
It used to be the Countess's private garden, covering three acres. Now the flowers and plants have been cut down and the ground has been compacted by engineering puppets into a flat stone square.
Four witch-themed buildings fell one after another from the subspace.
The Altar of Flames was the first to hit the ground, and the crimson stone platform emitted waves of heat, instantly turning the surrounding air scorching.
The Clock Tower of Destiny followed closely behind, its bronze bell emitting a deep hum under the gloomy sky.
The plant factory landed most quietly, but its roots burrowed into the cracks in the stone slabs the moment they touched the ground and began to spread outwards.
Finally, there was the Universal Mechanical Repair Factory. When the massive gear structure crashed to the ground, the entire square trembled.
The four buildings each occupy a corner, with ample passageways and buffer spaces in between.
Lorraine stood at the edge of the square and once again issued the camp relocation order.
With the input of mental energy, a fourth-tier city wall rose from the ground, enclosing the entire plaza along with the four witch-exclusive buildings.
The metal walls, crafted from Titan materials, gleamed with a dark silver luster. They were thicker and taller than the outer Tier 3 city walls, and their anti-air capability covered the entire inner circle.
This is the core area of Frostwolf City, and also the most fortified fortress in the entire city.
Lorraine put away the relocation order, crossed his arms, and glanced at the layout of Frostwolf City.
Fifty-four witch towers are arranged in a crisscross pattern on the outer third-tier city wall, while four witch-exclusive buildings in the city center are protected by the fourth-tier city wall.
Firepower, production, logistics, and defense—it has it all.
But he always felt that something was missing.
It's hard to describe the feeling; it's like a puzzle missing its last piece.
Lorraine frowned and paced back and forth on the city wall, mentally reviewing all the buildings.
The Witch's Tower is complete.
Witch-exclusive building—
He stopped in his tracks.
Four seats.
Anna, Lyra, Olivia, and Ohm each have a seat.
But he had more than four witches under his command.
To be precise, there was one who hadn't signed a contract.
Just then, a gray-white figure walked up the steps below the city wall.
The rough cloth nun's robe fluttered in the wind, and pale purple eyes could be vaguely seen beneath her veil.
The grayish-white fabric couldn't conceal her slender figure, and her fingers, encased in black lace gloves, rested on the crenellations of the city wall, with a faint crackling sound of static electricity emanating from her fingertips.
It's Catherine.
The fourth-tier Storm Witch, the only witch in the entire Frostwolf City who has not yet signed a witch contract with Lorraine.
She was just passing by, probably wanting to see from the city walls what Lorraine had done to the city.
As Lorraine watched her retreating figure, the missing piece of the puzzle in his mind clicked and fell into place.
"Catherine".
The figure in the grey and white nun's robe paused.
Catherine turned around, her pale purple eyes behind the veil calmly looking at Lorraine.
"What are your orders, my lord?"
Her voice was neither too warm nor too cold, maintaining just the right amount of distance.
Ever since she knelt down in the Lord's Hall to present her gift, Catherine's attitude towards Lorraine has remained the same—respectful, but not intimate.
Lorraine walked up to her and got straight to the point.
"I'm going to build you a building exclusively for witches."
Catherine stopped walking.
The pale purple eyes beneath the veil finally showed a flicker of emotion.
"—What?"
"The Storm Witch's exclusive building," Lorraine repeated, "but there's a condition."
He held up one finger.
"You are an outsider witch, not someone I trained from scratch. To enjoy the treatment of witches under my command, you must first sign a lord-witch contract with me and officially become a witch of the Tower of Babel."
Catherine remained silent for a few seconds.
The breathing behind the veil was very soft, but Lorraine could feel the air around her trembling slightly—a natural reaction of the Storm Witch when her emotions fluctuated.
Then she laughed.
It wasn't a sneer, nor a mockery, but a relieved laugh, even tinged with self-deprecation.
"My lord, even without a witch-specific building, I would still sign a witch contract with you."
She raised her hand and removed her veil, revealing a stunningly beautiful face.
But what is noticeable is a light-colored scar on her left cheek that runs from her cheekbone to her jawline, a remnant of the palace bombing several years ago.
"I was already prepared to join you."
Catherine spoke calmly, as if she were talking about something she had already decided long ago.
"From the moment you heard those two secrets I told you in the Lord's Hall, without panic, fear, or even hesitation, I made my decision."
She looked at Lorraine.
"You're the second person I've met who I feel is worth following. The first one betrayed me, so this time I want to see if the ending will be different."
Lorraine shook her head.
"I've taken your words to heart, but they're irrelevant to what I'm trying to say."
He pointed to the area in the city center surrounded by fourth-tier city walls, where four buildings exclusively for witches stood.
"Each witch under my command has her own exclusive witch building. Anna has the Flame Altar, Lyra has the Clock Tower of Fate, Olivia has the Plant Armory, and Ohm has the Universal Mechanical Repair Factory."
He turned back to look at Catherine.
You won't be the exception.
Catherine's expression froze.
Her pale purple eyes suddenly narrowed.
"—Each one?"
Her voice unconsciously rose by half an octave.
"You said each of your witches has her own unique building?"
"right."
"Four seats?"
"There are currently four, and with yours, that makes five."
Catherine's lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she swallowed it back.
She stayed in the capital for twenty years.
The capital city, the heart of the entire kingdom, possesses the most resources, the strongest lord, and the largest witch corps.
How many witch-exclusive buildings are there in the royal capital?
Four seats.
The entire capital city has four.
Those were the fruits of centuries of accumulation by successive kings, each one considered a national treasure, managed by the most powerful witch, and under the strictest protection.
The young man in front of us, who was exiled by his family and was eating black bread at the White Wolf Outpost just three months ago, now has four outposts under his command.
Now he says he wants to build a fifth one.
It's as casual as saying, "I'm going to the kitchen to get a glass of water."
Catherine took a deep breath and forced down the shock that was welling up inside her.
"it is good."
She extended her right hand, her fingers trembling slightly beneath the black lace glove, but her voice remained steady.
"I, Catherine, the fourth-order Storm Archmage, hereby enter into a pact with Lord Lorraine, and from this moment forward, I shall be the Witch of the Tower of Babel."
Lorraine took her hand.
The light of the contract emanated from their palms, spread to Catherine's arm, and finally sank into her chest.
A warm power surged into Catherine's body; it was the territory's demonic fire's recognition of the witch.
The light faded.
Lorraine released her grip and pulled out the Witch's Tome.
The translucent pages, visible only to him, unfolded in the air, and a new option appeared on the building panel—a Storm Witch-exclusive building: Weather Controller.
Lorraine glanced at the instructions and raised an eyebrow.
Weather controller.
It can manipulate the weather within the building's coverage area, creating storms, hail, thunderstorms, clear skies, and even altering seasonal characteristics in localized areas.
The amplification effect on the Storm Witch far exceeds that of the Witch's Tower, and it can also provide strategic weather-based support for territory agriculture and military.
well.
very good.
He pressed the button to build.
Catherine's feet began to tremble.
A massive metal pillar emerged from the ground, its top unfolding into a spherical structure covered with a dense array of runes.
The moment the runes lit up, the surrounding air began to move violently, and Catherine's nun's robes fluttered wildly in the wind.
Dozens of slender, lightning rod-like antennas extend from the top of the sphere, each condensing a tiny electric arc at its tip.
The entire building rose from the ground in less than ten seconds.
The weather controller stands in the inner circle of the fourth-tier city wall, alongside the other four witch-exclusive buildings.
Catherine looked up at the building that belonged to her, the arc of electricity at the tip of the antenna resonating with the storm power within her, and pale purple electric light wandered along her hair.
She could sense it.
The building is recognizing her.
Twenty years have passed.
Ever since she was a little maid named "Katie," she has dreamed of one day having her own witch-exclusive building.
When she served the prince in the capital, she had seen those four national treasures with her own eyes, and she would take a second look every time she passed by.
But she never imagined that the person who gave her this gift was not the man she had desperately tried to help ascend the throne, but an illegitimate son who had been exiled by his family and whom she had known for less than a month.
Catherine turned her gaze away and looked at Lorraine.
"I didn't misjudge him."
Her voice was soft, but every word carried an undeniable certainty.
"Revenge against the prince—is on the horizon."
Lorraine didn't respond to that.
He knew who the "prince" Catherine was referring to was Thursmir, the madman who tried to turn all of humanity into monsters.
Catherine didn't expect Lorraine to respond.
She paused for a moment, then changed the subject.
"Lorraine, have you found a way to do what I asked you before?"
Soul trauma.
The explosion when she fled the palace several years ago not only left scars on her cheeks and was the price of breaking the witch's contract, but also damaged her soul.
This crack damaged her foundation, leaving her stuck at the fourth-tier bottleneck and unable to advance any further.
This is also one of the core reasons why she was willing to rely on Lorraine—she needed Lorraine's methods to heal herself.
Lorraine leaned against the crenellations of the city wall, arms crossed.
"We've found the solution."
Catherine's breath hitched.
"But the materials haven't been found yet."
His breathing returned to normal, but a sense of urgency crept into his pale purple eyes.
"What materials?"
"The things needed to heal the wounds of the soul are not ordinary items. I don't have them on hand right now, and neither will Frostwolf City."
Lorraine's tone was calm. "But you don't need to rush. The moment of upheaval will arrive in half a month, and the Winter Lord will personally head south. Once I've resolved this problem, I'll have the time and energy to find the materials you need."
Catherine stared at Lorraine for several seconds.
Half a month later, the fifth-tier Winter Lord personally led his demon army south.
Any lord who heard this news would be so frightened that he would pack his valuables and prepare to flee overnight.
The young man in front of me said, "Wait until I solve this problem."
It's like talking about a slightly tricky household chore.
Catherine suddenly recalled the scene when she first met Lorraine—in the snow outside the White Wolf outpost, a boy dressed in thin clothes, accompanied by a newly awakened first-order witch, was hunting the weakest living snowflake with pitiful magic power.
Three months.
From White Wolf Outpost to Frostwolf City.
From an exiled illegitimate child to a count lord who owns five witch-exclusive buildings, fifty-four witch towers, and a mobile city.
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly.
"Then I'll wait for you."
Catherine put her veil back on and turned to walk toward the steps of the city wall.
After walking a few steps, she stopped again without looking back.
"Lorraine".
"Um?
"Twenty years ago, someone told me, 'When I ascend the throne, I will give you everything.'"
The wind swept across the city wall, lifting the hem of her greyish-white nun's robe.
"He made me wait for three years, and then gave me a bottle of anti-magic potion."
Catherine's voice was faint.
"You're different. You gave me something else important first, and then made me wait."
She stepped down the stairs and disappeared around the corner of the city wall.
Lorraine stood there, watching the arc of electricity at the top of the weather controller flicker under the gloomy sky.
He looked down and opened the Witch's Codex, sliding his finger across the construction panel to bring up a list of materials related to soul repair.
There is only one type of material on the list.
The name is very long, and the place of origin is marked as "random drop".
Lorraine closed the secret manual and looked up to the north.
That direction is the direction from which the Winter Lord will come.
15 days left.
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