CF CH 88 (Patreon)

While Noah was wreaking havoc in the White Room, the Mayor was getting restless as more and more alert reports kept getting sent to him. 


“How are all of you getting destroyed by one man!?”


At first, when he received a report that Noah escaped from his prison, he dismissed this as something not worth focusing on. While it was impressive that Noah managed to destroy the door, it was not something problematic enough for him to step in. 


But as if mocking him, in just the span of a few minutes, everything changed. An entire elite team of genetically engineered soldiers was destroyed, facilities were erased, the entire room was going up in flames and all that because of one man. One prisoner. 


The cybernetic eye of the Mayor flashed. The situation was dire and things would only become worse from here if he did not make a decision fast. 


The decision was surprisingly fast and decisive.


“Separate the Mine from the room and start the destruction sequence of the White Room.” Destroying the facilities was a shame but they had others such rooms in the vast cosmos. It was better to destroy this one while also erasing all evidence.


Noah was clearly far stronger than they had thought. Mecha pilots without their mecha were generally extremely vulnerable for obvious reasons. But freaks like this appeared sometimes.


They had powerful soldiers up there but there was little they could do when compared to the ones Noah already killed.


The agent who received the order hesitated a little. 


“What the hell are you doing!? Move now!” 


“Mayor…The Vessel is still in the White Room.”


“...” The Mayor clamped his mouth shut. He had forgotten the ultimate goal of the White Room.


The creation of a vessel for the goddess of love.


His eyes flashed erratically. The current Vessel was the results of an uncalculable number of experiments as well as incredible luck. Chances were, even if everything was the same, their chances of success was close to zero.


Finding the perfect vessel to support the wavelength of a HIgher dimensional entity was not easy.


“Fuck…” He cursed, realizing that this situation was way above his pay grade. Looking down at the communicator, he hesitated. Should he call his boss? 


The Pied Piper was not someone he could casually call and he would definitely be punished. But, this would surely still be better than whatever would happen to him if he lost the Vessel. 


“Mayor! Big new! The witches came back!” Someone barged in the room but for once, the Mayor did not get mad at the faux pas. This was perhaps the greatest new he had received in his old life.


“Which ones!?” Not all witches were equal after all but no matter what was their level, as a group they were simply monstrous. Facing a witch coven was suicide for most people.


 Thankfully, the one who came was something worth putting his hope on. After all, she was, 


“Aghata, the WItch of the Oven. Maria the Witch of Frosting and finally Laura, the Witch of the Cauldron alongside five more untitled witches.”


The Mayor's eyes shone with glee at this revelation. Those three witches were directly part of the Candy Witch’s coven. In terms of pure rank they were definitely in the upper tier. 


The Witch of the Oven in particular was the second in command in their coven and the head of the lab. A woman who burned down the entire continent and was the cause of hundreds of thousand deaths. Just thinking about her made him shiver. 


As for the other fives, they were still perfect support. It seemed like all hope was not lost.

The Mayor’s pulse finally steadied. Reinforcements of this caliber meant Noah’s rampage might actually be contained.

“Where are they now?” he demanded.

“Already entering the lower corridor. They asked for a full layout of the White Room’s current condition.”

“Good. Give them everything. Don’t hold anything back. If anyone can crush that monster, it’s them.”

The agent bowed and rushed out. The Mayor leaned back in his chair, forcing a smile to creep over his face. He had been seconds away from throwing everything into the fire, even the Vessel. Now, the tide might turn.

Still, unease gnawed at him.

The Candy Witch’s coven wasn’t famous for discipline or cooperation. 

They were unpredictable, each one a walking catastrophe with their own twisted tastes. Using them was like unleashing a pack of starving wolves

You didn’t direct them, you just hoped they ate the right prey first.

The Mayor rubbed his temple, his cybernetic eye flickering. “Oven, Frosting, Cauldron… Don’t disappoint me.”

If they failed as well, then he would have no other choice than to call his boss. Which would mean that everyone in this base would most likely enter an eternal dance under a diabolical tune.


****

The stench of blood and burnt metal still hung thick in the White Room. Noah stood over the unconscious chimeras, his armor slick with gore and his crimson eyes burning. Emma clung to his arm, her small frame tense but steady.

He had managed to stop the most pressing situation but the reality was that he was adding more burden on his plate.

Fighting while protecting Emma was already a challenge and this time things became even more difficult.

—We could just ditch them.

Noah did not bother contradicting her. She was right, they could just ditch them and run. But doing so would be against his convictions.

“Let’s prepare and move.”

That was when the air shifted.

[Hahaha! You are done for! They are finally here!]

Heat rolled down the corridor first, thick and suffocating, carrying with it the faintest scent of scorched sugar. A laugh, low, mocking, hungry, echoed against the walls.

Eve’s tone sharpened in his head.

—They’re here.

Noah didn’t need her to say who. He could already guess.

Witches.

The previously closed doors opened as they arrived, one after another. 

A tall woman in a charred apron, her braid flecked with soot, flames licking her fingertips.

Beside her, a pale figure draped in layers of white cloth that oozed a sweet, cloying smell.

Behind them, a broad-shouldered matron stirring a black cauldron that floated with her, thick syrup dripping from its rim.

And more followed.

Those ones were definitely weaker, and yet he could still feel a faint sense of danger.

Emma’s grip on Noah tightened and she whimpered. The trauma and fear of those heinous beings imprinted on her was resurfacing.

“Let’s…run.”

Noah patted Emma's head. The simple fact that she did not panic completely and try to drag him away was already an immense proof of courage.

The first witch stepped forward, her eyes burning like twin furnaces. She licked her lips as she eyed him up and down.

“I am the Cauldron Witch. Agatha.”

“I have no name to give to the likes of you.” Even as he spoke, he was busy analyzing his surroundings.

“A fiery man, I see. You are to my liking. I love fire.” She shrugged, not minding Noah’s attitude.

“From what I have seen while coming here, you are definitely in the upper rank of power even without your Mecha. A wonder.” She snickered, “Would you like to join us? All you have to do is step away from that little girl. She is quite precious you see?”

A middle finger was all the answer Noah gave. It was a sign that was funnily very universal. 

“That is a shame.” The Oven Witch snapped her finger.

The others fanned out immediately, each with their own grotesque marks. A witch stitched with licorice cords, one whose tongue dripped caramel that hardened into knives, another who whispered and left trails of peppermint frost where she walked.

The room warped around them—frost spreading across scorched tiles, sugar shards erupting from the walls, the air swaying between blistering heat and suffocating chill.

Emma pressed against Noah’s arm, her small hands trembling. He felt her breath hitch but didn’t move. His armor shifted with him, plates locking into place. His crimson eyes flared.

“Eve,” he said evenly. “Chances of holding them off and keeping the girl and children alive?”

—Low. But not zero. Emma is clearly a priority for them. The other children are not so. I will not be able to protect you as efficiently if I focus on them.

“That’s more than enough.”

—Understood. But, do not forget. Your life is more important to me. 

Noah grinned. 

His body lowered into a guard stance, black armor rippling with living crimson eyes. The witches laughed as one—high, broken, a sound that turned the White Room into a carnival of madness.

“Did no one ever tell you to never enter a witch's lair?”

Aghata spread her arms wide, the heat behind her forming into a furnace’s glow.

“Someone did. Sadly, I am just very unlucky you see?”

“Hahaha how true! I will bake your flesh, hero! Slow. Tender. Until you scream for release.”

The chorus of the witches rose. Their stages, about to completely shape up.

But then—

BANG! BANG!

Two  gunshots cut the laughter apart. The bullets zipped past Noah’s shoulder, burying itself into the head of one witch standing behind Aghata with a violent crack. 

Chips of sugar and concrete scattered, unable to block the bullet and the head of the poor unnamed witch burst open in a beautiful show of blood, skull shards and brain matter. 

Shadow rippled, and dozens of daggers rushed out, mercilessly piercing the heart,  brain, guts and lungs of two other witches. 

They died on the spot, unable to even throw a single spell.

The witches froze. Their laughter died.

From the far side of the corridor, two new figures emerged. They moved with the precision of hunters, step by step.

One wore a black cloak and a white mask, smooth and featureless except for two narrow eye-slits. The other mirrored them—a white cloak and a black mask, equally stark. Together, they looked like inverses pulled from a nightmare.

The white masked one in black raised a pistol, smoke still trailing from its barrel. His voice held a certain air of frivolity. As if everything was nothing but a game.

“Sister, I thought the hunt was a failure but look at this. What do you see?”

The one in white tilted her head, voice lilting with a cruel smile hidden under the mask.

“Witches. A whole lot of witches.”

“And what is our motto dear sister of mine?”

“A good witch is a dead witch.”

“Haha. Indeed, wise words. So what do you say, friend with creepy eyes. Do you need a hand? We happen to specialize in hunting down witches. The name is Hansel by the way.”

The witches hissed as one at the names, the White Room creaking under the sudden tension.

Noah stood steady, eyes locked forward. He could see the unease in the eyes of the previously confident witches. 

He also recognized the two new intruders more or less. They were the two strange individuals who entered the small ships alongside the other guests before they got kidnapped. 

He did not know who they were. Nor did it matter. 

If they wanted to kill those witches, he would gladly let them do so.

But there was one exception. 

“Leave Agatha to me.”

The battlefield was shifting again.

(AN: The two masked hunters appeared in CH 77.)