Chapter 17: The Crimson Witch

“Miss, I’m just a little girl collecting seashells. Heroes, please let me go!”

On the distant planet Atlantis, several light-years away from the Star of the Banquet, Xipha, a damp underwater cavern reverberated with screams. Ripples spread across the stagnant pools, breaking the silence.

Scattered across the floor were bioluminescent torches, their pale glow illuminating the pitch-black cavern. The light fell upon a silver-haired, red-eyed girl who had collapsed sideways on the ground, her delicate figure trembling, her face streaked with pitiful tears.

Closing in on her was a group of strange creatures glowing faintly. Their bodies were pitch-black, veined with eerie violet markings. Fins grew between the barnacle-crusted gaps of their bodies, and they carried long spears forged from sharp coral and shells.

“Collecting seashells? I don’t see any tools on you! Clearly, you’re a spy sent by humans! You think you can fool me?”

The leader, a jellyfish-like Deep-Sea Spirit shaman, leveled his crackling electric orb at her. A burning stench of ozone filled the air.

“Take one more step and… and I won’t be polite anymore!”

The seemingly frail girl suddenly spoke with a vicious edge. Confronted with what looked like a hundred-thousand-volt strike, she showed no fear at all—only brazen defiance.

“Oh?”

The shaman stalled. The lightning in his hand sputtered and fizzled out. He stared at the fearless girl and, against his will, felt a rare shiver of unease.

This was no ordinary child.

As the local leader of the Deep-Sea Spirits, he had clawed his way to the top—fighting and bleeding from the icy Northern Seas to the vast Southern Abyss. Countless battles and power struggles had forged him into what he was today.

His ambition was to rebuild the Deep-Sea Spirit Empire, long destroyed by the Rangers. Yet his chieftain was a debauched fool, blinded by luxury, without vision. Even the resurrection of Lord Leviathan—the supreme mission of their entire race—was set aside for wealth. A disgrace to their people!

So, one night, when the currents ran dark, the shaman sacrificed that incompetent chieftain with his own hands. For his loyalty, Leviathan rewarded him with the power of a demon god. With his chosen warriors, he marched north and south, driving away the giant Amethyst Rays and reclaiming the Deep-Sea capital from human invaders.

But ever since they established their new stronghold, Lord Leviathan’s cries to return to the surface world had grown louder by the day.

That left the shaman burdened. The tribe needed governing; Leviathan demanded pearls for sacrifice. But most pearl-rich regions were under human control.

Worse, greedy humans frequently dispatched raiding parties into Deep-Sea territory, harvesting pearls to sell as trinkets on the market. Outrageous! Those pearls were crystallized fragments of Leviathan’s own flesh!

If only the Deep-Sea Spirits could walk on land—he would have enslaved all of humanity as fuel long ago.

If Leviathan discovered this… the shaman shuddered at the thought.

Hard-working emperors die young.
He wasn’t even emperor yet, and already he was being worked to death.

So no—he could not let this girl return alive. If humans learned that the Deep-Sea Spirits were easy prey, their entire race would be doomed.

“Human girl,” the shaman hissed, “are you not afraid of our cruelty? Of the tortures that await you?”

“Afraid? Not at all.”

The girl rose to her feet, brushing off the dirt.

“In fact, I’m curious to see how amusing they are.”

“What?!”

Unbelievable. His intimidation… crushed by this mere child? Impossible! The Deep-Sea Spirits were no tame livestock to be mocked!

“Wavebreaker Goliath, step forward!”

“At your command!”

A towering brute emerged, carrying a massive battle axe. Twelve feet tall, savage in appearance, his eyes blazed with fury. Even a single step made the ground tremble.

“Behold the might of our kind! This axe can cleave a five-meter pillar in half! Taking your little head will be nothing but child’s play. Tremble! Wail! Beg for mercy!”

“That’s it? Not nearly enough.”

The girl raised two fingers. With effortless grace, she caught the descending axe between them. The brute strained with all his strength, but she stood unmoving, yawning as if bored.

“Impossible… my unparalleled strength!”

Crushed in spirit, the warrior dropped to his knees, babbling hymns of praise to her. The Deep-Sea soldiers recoiled in fear.

“Don’t panic!” the shaman barked, though his own heart quivered. “She’s just using illusions. We outnumber her. Attack together!”

But his mind screamed: Soul magic?!

Long extinct among the Deep-Sea Spirits… and yet, this human wielded it.

She was no ordinary human. No human at all.

He needed a war council immediately. And he had to seek Leviathan’s orders—

“No need to trouble yourself,” the girl’s voice chimed behind him.

“Filthy trash.”

Before he could react, her hand pierced his chest. His body dissolved into water, absorbed by the writhing tentacles behind her.

“I am the Crimson Witch, Graciara Labos.”

“If you wish to live—kneel. As for your so-called master, that rotting fish Leviathan? He’s only fit to give me foot massages.”

Her voice was sweet, almost playful—but beneath it lay an undeniable weight, crushing them.

The Deep-Sea Spirits dropped their weapons at once and knelt.

“Now, you will serve me. Obey my command—slaughter every human on the surface.”

“Milady Witch,” one of them stammered, “we are aquatic creatures. On land we will perish. Do you… have some way to keep us moist?”

Before his words finished, Graciara flicked her finger. The unfortunate mage exploded into a puddle of pus.

“Chittering insect. Did I permit you to speak?”

“As for your problem… the solution is simple.”

“Raise the sea level.”

With a snap of her fingers, a colossal tsunami erupted, engulfing the entire surface of Atlantis. Half the population drowned instantly. The rest were mercilessly butchered by the Deep-Sea army.

The oceans ran red with blood.

“The bait is set. Now… we wait for the Ranger Association to bite.”