Chapter 23: The Old Witch

In a simple room inside Hengbing City, Anna Lo Fang plunged her fingers into her messy hair, rubbing her scalp hard to relieve the numbness from overexertion; when she pulled her hand away, she found several strands of hair clinging to her fingers, making her mood even worse.

“If this keeps up, I’ll lose all my hair! Aaaahhh!!” Anna screamed: “I’m just a princess—why do I have to do all this?!”

“Because your brother ran away,” came a slow, drawling reply from the shadow in the corner, where a thin black silhouette sat with arms crossed.

“Damn Lu Se! This was supposed to be his job—he’s the first in line!” Anna exploded; her so-called first-in-line brother had sneaked off and dumped everything on her.

If she handled it well, she got nothing—when her brother returned, the city lordship would still be his. If she failed, she’d bear the blame. It was pure self-sacrifice for his benefit, leaving her seething with injustice.

“You don’t have to handle it,” said the shadow in the corner.

Anna shook her head, her expression turning serious: “No. That damned demon is still hiding in the west, striking our poorly guarded cultivation zones. If we don’t find him, we’ll face severe famine next year.”

The shadow fell silent for a moment, then sighed helplessly: “It’s truly cruel. Our cultivation zones are too scattered, some even connected by cave systems—easy to navigate. One demon slips in, sets fires everywhere, and we lose everything. All we can do is waste troops spreading them thin across every food-producing area, chasing shadows.”

“It’s fine—I’ll catch him. When I do, I’ll tie him up and send him to Wuyao City. Let the liches tear his soul apart.” Anna snarled.

“You misunderstand liches—they haven’t torn souls apart in ages. But it doesn’t matter. With all this intel on the table, how exactly do you plan to catch the demon?” the shadow asked, puzzled.

Anna’s lips curled into a confident smile: “Every incident reveals clues. Events one through three happened consecutively, but between event three and four, there was a three-day gap—yet the two locations are only a day’s travel apart. Where did he go those two days?”

The shadow thought, then hesitated: “Tired?”

“Exactly. Centered on these two cultivation zones, what places lie within a two-day travel radius? The arsonist is almost certainly a Lava Demon—he loves magma.” Anna unrolled a map and spread it across the table.

The shadow stepped out from the corner, revealing a face lined with wrinkles and a gaunt frame; exposed skin on face and arms was covered in rune-like tattoos.

Anyone familiar with such markings would cry out in shock—Holy Corpse Witch! And one purified by the Church; those tattoos were the scars left when holy runes burned into the skin.

In the human world, undead creatures were labeled heretics by the Church—captured and purified. The Church believed ordinary methods couldn’t kill liches; only purification could destroy both body and soul. Otherwise, even decapitation wouldn’t stop their souls from escaping as wraiths.

Wrap them in holy shrouds, burn them with flame—until both flesh and soul turned to ash.

It was reasonable: some liches truly couldn’t be killed by ordinary means, because they forged Soul Vessels.

They transformed their hearts into Soul Vessels, sealed them in special containers, hid them safely, then replaced their hearts with Soulfire. Even if killed, they could resurrect through the vessel.

The Church developed a countermeasure: wrap the lich in holy shrouds, burn them with flame—destroying both body and soul. Such liches, even if resurrected via the vessel, lost all memories and bore permanent, unerasable scars on their bodies.

The shadow was a lich who had been purified and resurrected—but she’d lost all memory of her past life. She didn’t remember who she was or how she died. Only the emblem carved on her Soul Vessel remained: a single character—Lan. So now she called herself Lan.

Lan stepped to the table, scanned the map, and quickly found a name: “Here. Molten River.”

“Yes. Only there, nearby, is magma—the demon’s favorite environment,” Anna said.

Lan nodded: “Makes sense. But it’s all speculation. You have no proof.”

Anna smiled, pulled out a sheet of paper, and handed it to Lan: “I’ve sent scouts. Footprints of the demon were found along the path to Molten River—he was definitely there during that time.”

Lan fell silent, then couldn’t help but sigh: “You’re incredible. You actually tracked him down.”

“Of course,” Anna smirked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s how I deduced he’s a Lava Demon—he needs magma to restore strength. Knowing his rest intervals, I just need to watch places with magma. Eventually, I’ll corner him.”

“You’d better hurry. If he sets more fires, next year’s harvest will collapse. Many will starve,” Lan said.

“Don’t worry. I’ve contacted the human world via teleportation array. Their harvests are bountiful—if we pay, they can send tens of tons of grain in one single-direction transmission.”

Lan shook her head: “Too costly. Opening a major transit station alone requires over a dozen magic crystals. We have no large teleportation array here—our world’s transit hub has been unusable for ages. A dozen crystals would’ve sufficed, but single-direction transmission needs over a hundred. Even if we looted every valuable thing in the underground city, we couldn’t gather that many.”

Anna clawed at her scalp again, frustrated: “Then what do we do? Starve? Wuyao City is short on food too—they sent envoys asking for grain recently. I turned them down. If they had surplus, they could’ve helped!”

As Anna scratched her head in agitation, a soldier reported: “Your Highness, Lisa Augustus of Wuyao City requests an audience.”

“Lisa Augustus? Who’s that? Wasn’t it always Esk coming before? Why the new face?” Anna murmured, puzzled.

Lan’s eyes suddenly flashed with sharp light: “This isn’t a new face. She’s the true ruler of Wuyao City. That old witch hasn’t shown herself in centuries—I thought she was dead. Go meet her. This old lich is no ordinary foe.”

“The true ruler of Wuyao City? Isn’t Lord Filin the city lord?” Anna’s curiosity flared. She quickly tidied her hair and robes, preparing to meet her.

“Filin fears his wife. This is his wife.”

When they reached the reception chamber, only a woman in a black silk gown sat languidly there—pale-skinned, plump, elegant. No “old witch” as Lan had described.

Lan’s gaze didn’t linger on the woman. Instead, she stared at the chamber door and demanded bluntly: “Where’s your old witch, Augustus?”

The woman turned her head, a careless smile on her lips, voice lazy: “You mean me—the old witch Augustus?”

Hearing that familiar voice, Lan’s eyes snapped to the woman’s face, her brow furrowing.

She’d known Lisa as a lich—just like herself: shriveled, gaunt, gray, withered. This plump, radiant woman bore faint resemblance to that old witch—and her voice was identical. What was happening?

The woman slowly opened her mouth: “Lan… the title ‘old witch’? Only you’ll be allowed to use it now.”

Lan’s expression twisted in fury: “It really is you! Augustus, you vile thing—you’ve possessed a living body?! I’ll kill you!”

“What?! No, no, no! You’re mistaken—this is my body! Hey, stop! Ouch! Don’t hit my face! Stop! I’ll retaliate if you keep it up!”

Watching Lisa and Lan brawl like children, Anna started to move forward—then suddenly froze.

Two thousand-year-old liches weren’t using magic—they were punching and kicking like toddlers. If this were real combat, Anna would eat this chair.

After a few moments, the two liches, hair disheveled, finally stopped. Gaunt, withered Lan was a mess. Plump, radiant Lisa, hair wild, somehow looked strangely alluring.

Lan, furious and envious, demanded: “How did you become like this? You didn’t possess a living body, did you?”

Powerful liches and undead could possess living bodies—but the host died, the flesh lost vitality, rotting within two or three days. If not possession, how could a lich become so vibrant?

Lisa smiled faintly and asked softly: “If you had the chance to restore your body’s vitality, to become like me… what would you be willing to pay?”