Miss Witch’s Devotion Has Gone… Twisted

Loren closed his black eye, and Veronica in front of him suddenly became just another passerby.

When Loren opened his eye, Veronica had reverted to that flawless face. She blinked her big eyes and looked at him with innocent curiosity.

Now Loren knew how his ability had changed. True Sight Eye had shifted from passive to active, and he could now control the ability’s switch himself.

This didn’t greatly boost Loren’s power, but it was still an excellent sign, confirming his previous guess.

He really could use people’s perceptions to bind his own authority to the Observer’s authority, thereby further mastering the Perpetual Observer’s dominion.

Moreover, this revealed one more thing to Loren.

He had only gained Veronica’s faith so far, yet that alone caused such a huge change. That meant the faith provided by witches was far stronger than ordinary people’s.

Keep in mind, Loren had already become the object of worship for all witches. If he spread the word, every witch who heard would immediately believe.

At that time, the amount of faith supporting Loren would be a terrifying figure.

This trip to the Holy Flame Empire was an opportunity. Loren intended to use this operation to bind himself and the Perpetual Observer together completely.“Veronica, I want you to project my image into the sky. Can you do it?”

“Yes.”

Veronica nodded. Her Arcane Ability cap was very high, she simply didn’t need to use it often.

Still, Loren didn’t have high hopes that the Holy Flame Empire would spread the message. Given how closed-off they were, it was unlikely they’d pass this along.

What Loren needed was simply to locate the witches inside the Holy Flame Empire. If they heard that Loren was here, they would surely find a way to come to him.

Loren also wasn’t worried that Anna and the others would come because of this; their timing would likely miss each other.

By the time the news returned, Loren would probably already be gone.

...

Loren held Veronica as they flew to the border of the God of Freedom’s territory, where many troops were stationed.

After all, it was wartime; these soldiers were enjoying a brief moment of peace.

Most of the soldiers were mages or knights. Ordinary people served only in logistics; civilians had no use on the battlefield, especially against followers of the God of Light and Fire.

There were almost no wounded in the camp—most were simply burned to ashes.

No matter how brutal the battles, it had nothing to do with Loren.

As they flew on, Loren passed the battlefield.

There were no violent scenes here, only endless ash.

The slain Freedom believers had been reduced to dust; the bodies of Light and Fire believers were similarly burned to ashes.

The Holy Flame Empire had taken militaristic nationalism to the extreme, to the point where Loren thought their king could be called a ”Führer.”

The Holy Flame Empire cared nothing for individuals; they only cared for the collective. Tidying corpses was a waste of time to them.

All dead soldiers were burned on the spot, their ashes scattered by the wind. No one cared; their families would call it an honor.

Soldiers had no pay; they risked their lives purely for faith.

Blood spilled on the ground mixed with the ash, and the ash clinging to blood seemed to be telling the tale that it had once also been life.

But unfortunately, only Loren paid them another glance. No one else cared about their deaths.

Not far from the battlefield, the God of Light and Fire’s army was stationed, most men keeping strict formation, ready to fight again at any moment.

There were many wounded among their ranks; many had lost an organ but could still fight.

Once their bleeding was stopped, they returned to the units.

As for those worse off, they were burned on the spot—bringing them back would be a waste of resources.

The Holy Flame Empire was fighting on three fronts; they could not afford to waste anything.

Even if the situation weren’t dire, the wounded would at best be brought back as livestock to extract some faith.

Loren flew over them directly and headed toward the heart of the Holy Flame Empire.

The Holy Flame Empire was vast, and Loren had to rest mid-flight so Veronica could recover.

After the break, Loren resumed toward the empire’s capital, where the largest church stood. Its location was easy to find; the flames above the church rivaled the sun and were visible even from the border.

Loren arrived above the church. With the Divine War underway, the church was packed daily. Followers seized every opportunity to pray to the God of Light and Fire, hoping to help Him win the Divine War.

At that moment, the sky suddenly dimmed.

The followers had never seen anything like it and rushed out of the church to look up.

The original sun had been covered by something, leaving only the sun atop the church, and even that light was faint, barely illuminating Loren nearby.

Loren beat the Dusk Crow’s wings and hovered in the air.

“Followers of the God of Light and Fire, greetings. I am Loren.”

Loren spoke, and wind magic carried his voice far so that everyone could hear him.

At the same time, a huge apparition appeared in the sky, projecting Loren’s image across the air.

“Perhaps you may call me the Perpetual Observer. I am the god of truth, reason, order, the ordinary, eternity, and continuation.

“I am a true god, not comparable to those false gods like the God of Light and Fire. He could never have killed me.”

Loren’s words shook the crowd’s hearts. For years, the Church of Light and Fire had boasted about the slaying of Loren in countless retellings—so many versions that they could have filled a whole gospel about it. And now they were suddenly told Loren hadn’t died, and that he had wiped out their light and fire.

This was an enormous blow to their faith.

“My return marks the death of you false gods!

“And I will lead you to flee the apocalypse!”

Loren flew higher. A Blood Moon Condensed Light shattered the sun atop the church, ending the last remaining sun here and leaving only a faint glow.

The followers began pleading for the Orthodox Gods or angels to save them, but the only response they received were cries of mania:

“The apocalypse draws near, witches awaken! The Observer returns, the false gods die!”

“…”

The same chants echoed from all directions. One follower looked toward the voice and saw his friend.

He remembered clearly that this friend had always been steady and devout, but now the friend’s expression had completely changed—eyes vacant, face frenzied, repeatedly shouting the slogans.

Out of sight, a fishing line connected him to Loren.