Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 1032: The Witch of the Sanctuary

Chapter 1032 -1032: The Witch of the Sanctuary

The wind and snow were strong, and although the Deity was barefoot, no footprints were left on the snow.

Shard could only follow the direction along the ridge, fortunately, the Tree Father wouldn’t place him too far away, and soon he saw the glimmer of a fire at the base of the ridge.

Almost rolling down along the snow — it was faster this way, and at the bottom of the slope stood a rock mostly covered by snow from unknown origins. The firelight emanated from behind the rock, which was a decent windbreak.

When Shard approached, he even found that the people by the bonfire had used dead branches, cloth, and ice to build a small shelter against the rock.

The sound of him walking barefoot on the snow made the three numb, corpse-like people by the drafty shelter’s bonfire turn to look at him.

The first thing Shard noticed wasn’t that a witch would actually agree to hide with a man, but that the silver-white-haired Deity wasn’t here.

There was little snow behind the rock, and the bonfire was set up on the ground. The two women and one man huddled around it, curling up to avoid exposure to the wind and snow. The snow blowing through the gaps of this simple shelter covered the ground with a thin layer of frost, and all three looked at Shard with expressionless faces, not speaking even when Shard squeezed into their “shelter” and blocked the largest draft with his body.

“Um… hello, everyone.”

Shard hesitantly greeted, reaching out his hands to be warmed by the fire. The fire burning here was, of course, not an ordinary fire, nor was it a bonfire crafted from the secret techniques of the witch or Maze Lock; it was itself some kind of powerful item. The Primal Fire inside Shard’s body was agitated, clearly wanting to devour this fire. But unfortunately, the true “Fire of the Primordial” kindling was with Sister Delphine, and Shard only possessed the Ember she bestowed, unable to consume this flame.

No one paid attention to Shard; the three merely watched him, an incredibly eerie scene. Shard, shivering, warmed his palms by the fire, quietly saying:

“Ladies, and this gentleman, I don’t really understand the current situation. How about we introduce ourselves?”

He pointed to himself first:

“I am the Outlander, from a very distant place, lost in the snowstorm.”

He flicked his finger at the flame, making it leap upward with Sorcery of “Flame Shaping.” Simultaneously, Shard realized that the fire relied on spiritual power to burn; the numb expressions of the three were due to the environment’s impact, as well as maintaining the fire was also a factor.

“See, I’m not a witch, but a Grand Witch performed some small experiments on me, giving me some special abilities.”

He casually explained.

Among the two women, only one was a witch, the other was an ordinary person. The witch wasn’t the older woman, but rather the girl who looked about eighteen or nineteen.

She had silvery hair that was unusually peculiar, and eyes that were scarlet-gold, a mix of red and gold. Such hair and eye colors weren’t natural, likely a result of mysticism studies.

The witch draped an unnamed white fur blanket over her clothes, seated at the wind-guarded spot of this simple shelter:

“Witch Chloe, Zaras Academy.”

Her voice was somewhat cold, but at least her wary gaze at Shard showed humanity:

“Man, what nonsense are you talking about. If a witch’s experiments could give men supernatural abilities, then the Fifth Era wouldn’t be the Fifth Era.”

She paused for a moment:

“Regardless of what you are, listen carefully. Among the three of us, one is possessed by a demon, but no one knows who it is, including possibly ourselves… Are you the demon?”

“No, no, I am not a Third Era Evil Spirit.”

Shard shook his head immediately and then lit a glimmer with his finger:

“Silvermoon.”

The holy silver light captivated the three’s attention, they stared in a trance at that moonlight. Here, there was no moon, those trapped in the mountains hadn’t seen moonlight for an unknown duration.

“As you see, even if a demon could fake moonlight, it wouldn’t be so pure. Are you a witch from Zaras Academy? Oh, I have friends at Zaras Academy too.”

But Miss Becky Samuel, who appeared in the Valley of Dead Silence with Miss Orland and Miss Fiona Drago, was from three thousand years in the future.

Witch Chloe nodded slightly:

“Man, you don’t need to cozy up to me. Listen, the three of us are here for different purposes, seeking to reach the mountaintop. I’m after the hard ice at the summit for an experiment. Our team originally had nineteen members, but after the accident, only we three are left. If you aren’t afraid of danger, then stay, but until the demon is found, none of us will leave here.”

If the demon suddenly attacked in the blizzard, the three of them would surely die, so her decision, though passive, was rational.

“A very rational decision.”

Shard praised, and the witch snorted, ignoring him.

“Hello, sir, I am Marcus Marx, you may call me Mrs. Marques. I was originally the attendant of another witch, but my master has died along the way… I will fulfill her desire and keep moving forward.”

Mrs. Marques looked around thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, with some almost imperceptible freckles on her face, long limbs, and a headscarf.

“What wish?”

Shard asked curiously, and the witch on the other side hummed again:

“Witness the highest peak of the Silver White Mountains and leave her footprints there. That unfortunate lady disappeared from the team at some point, and later we only found her boots. Marques took her boots, saying he would fulfill her wish on her behalf.”

“I see, that’s truly admirable.”

Shard sighed slightly and finally looked at the man huddled in the corner. During his time in the Fifth Era, Shard encountered many men, like the boy from Hope Town, Mr. Riddle the “luckiest mortal,” the king poisoned at the deity’s banquet, and the elderly man who once possessed the “Demon Hunting Seal.”

However, the man he encountered this time was different from them all. He seemed about the same age as Shard, with a red mark on his left cheek. Shrinking timidly in the corner behind a big rock, as soon as Shard stared at him, he lowered his head immediately, showing no intention of introducing himself.

“He is…”

“An Exile.”

The young witch, who looked only eighteen, spoke again:

“Look at the mark on his face, it means he stole something in the witch’s territory and got exiled here. We came across him not long ago, and considering he might be useful as a guide or bait, we kept him.”

Shard nodded, beginning to understand the composition of these Lost Ones.

The bonfire grew stronger with Shard’s arrival. The firelight illuminated four faces, and in the depths of the snow-capped mountains where the gale roared, it seemed each Lost One had their own thoughts.

Instead of asking about the so-called demon possession first, Shard asked:

“Have you seen a lady, barefoot, wearing a white robe, holding a white oak staff?”

Miss Chloe the Witch shook her head slightly while wrapped in her blanket:

“It’s just us here. However, since I’ve answered your question…”

Saying this, she suddenly grabbed Shard’s wrist. Surprised that Shard didn’t resist, she felt his wrist, then released it and looked at her palm, speaking with a slightly lighter tone:

“See, I knew you definitely weren’t a man.”

Her golden eyes sized up Shard again, and seeing no response from him, she snorted once more.

Shard had no comment on this but realized during their contact that this youthful-looking witch was actually Eleventh Rank:

“You know about that winter deity.”

“Of course, we know. Is there a problem?”

Miss Chloe asked again, tightening the white fur around her.

Interestingly, all the witches Shard had met before were very tall. Even apprentices partially inheriting witch power were taller than normal females their age. But Miss Chloe here was the opposite. Initially, Shard thought it was because she was curled up that he had mistaken it, but now he was sure her height was indeed somewhat below the average.

Wrapped in a white blanket, her writhing posture made Shard somewhat amused for some reason, though he managed to suppress it.

“No problem.”

Shard shook his head, knowing the deity had not appeared around the three or that they had forgotten something:

“I have some warm clothing here.”

As he spoke, he took toys from his pocket, then transformed them into real items and distributed them among the three. Miss Chloe the Witch thanked him while watching him perform the spell, and Mrs. Marques, although unclear about Shard’s identity, showed more respect upon confirming his spellcasting ability.

As for the unnamed exile in the corner, he accepted the warm clothing but still didn’t speak.

“Perhaps the deity is hiding among the three of them.”

Shard considered this possibility again, given similar occurrences in the Forest of Thousand Trees, and Miss Chloe’s hair color resembled the deity’s.

But thinking carefully, it seemed unlikely. Among the three, only Miss Veil matched the deity’s appearance, as the other two were ordinary individuals. However, Miss Veil’s curious demeanor towards him didn’t quite align with that of a deity.

Warm clothing helped fend off the Silver Mountains’ bitter cold, albeit not extensively. What truly aided them were the pots, dishes, salt, sugar, and everyday supplies Shard subsequently produced—the group barely had any luggage left.

Though for an Eleventh Rank Witch, going without food for several months wasn’t problematic, if possible, nobody wanted to always rely on snow water to quench their hunger and thirst.

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