Babylon, Year 212
Medusa, Circe's direct disciple in the Thorned Rose Sect, was a brilliant and calculating woman. As Circe's chosen successor, she was no less talented than Lilith. Disguised as a benevolent witch, she infiltrated the Kingdom of Babylon with a single goal: to acquire the ancient knowledge left behind by the Two Great Witches.
After three years of careful study, she succeeded in stealing all of it.
Soon after, she founded her own nation in the remote Balchik Mountains. There, atop the peaks, she established the Kingdom of Roses—a realm declared to be the Kingdom of Women.
---
Inside the Royal Palace of Babylon
"How dare they!" Lilith sat on the throne, her angelically beautiful face dark with fury. "Those blasphemous, fallen witches! They ignore the Three Iron Laws of Witches. They are indulgent, licentious cowards—vermin who have always fled before us! And now they want to establish a kingdom? They dare to claim the legacy of the Three Great Witches?"
She was draped in midnight blue robes, with a crown of fresh flowers on her brow and a blackwood scepter clenched tightly in her hand.
Terrifying spiritual pressure radiated from her, forcing all those in the hall to bow low in submission. The gathered witches trembled, their faces pale from the sheer weight of her presence.
"Your Majesty," one of them asked carefully, "how should we respond?"
Lilith's voice was thunder.
"War. There can only be war!"
She raised her scepter. Transparent ripples of power surged through the air—the Witch of Spring Cassandra's Fourth-Level spell, Sound Waves, spreading Lilith's edict across all of Babylon:
"War. There can only be war!"
---
Babylon, Year 213
Lilith led hundreds of witches to the Balchik Mountains. The land was torn apart—mountains crumbled, forests were reduced to ash, and the earth turned crimson with blood. Countless mighty witches fell in battle.
The ancient grudge of the Three Great Witches had passed down to their disciples—Lilith and Medusa.
The war raged for eight long years.
Under Circe's leadership, the rogue witches had gathered terrifying strength. Though they numbered just over seventy, their "forbidden" training methods gave them much faster progress. On average, they were stronger than their orthodox counterparts.
Their power rivaled that of the Babylonian Kingdom.
Then, one day, Medusa—after years of biding her time—broke through her limits and ascended to the Fifth Level.
Lilith was instantly defeated and forced to flee.
The gap between levels only widened as one advanced. At this height, the difference between Level Four and Level Five was like that between heaven and earth—two beings from different worlds.
Medusa did not give chase. Instead, she quietly took three days to familiarize herself with her new power.
Then, alone, she walked into the Kingdom of Babylon.
The entire nation was shaken.
---
"You orthodox witches train far too slowly," Medusa declared. "Lilith, I've reached a level you have not. My teacher Circe never wished to fight her old friends to the death. Otherwise, Babylon would have fallen long ago."
"Her affection stayed her hand. But I have no such hesitation. I'm here to settle the old grudge—and clear my teacher's name!"
"Who dares challenge me?"
Medusa appeared as a young girl, her figure faint beneath surging spiritual energy. A wooden staff rested in her hand. Crimson robes fluttered around her, shrouded in transparent blue haze. Her eyes burned like fire.
She had stormed into Babylon and reached the royal palace—alone. One by one, she routed every defender.
Including Lilith, a total of 131 witches were defeated.
The power gap was simply too vast.
---
"Do you yield?"
Bathed in azure mist, Medusa stood tall in the royal hall of Babylon, staring down at the trembling witches.
Her spiritual pressure shook the heavens. It felt as if the world itself might collapse.
"You infiltrated Babylon and stole our sacred knowledge!" someone cried. "You're despicable! Brute force cannot crush our will!"
Royal Chancellor Ermei lifted her head with great difficulty. "We will never yield. The Great Creator has said this is not civilization—this is barbar—"
Crack!
Medusa tapped her staff to the ground. A shockwave burst out.
Blood sprayed from Ermei's body as the Level Three magician collapsed, lifeless.
"Anyone else?"
Medusa's voice was calm.
"No matter how terrifying your power may be, you cannot—"
Boom!
A witch exploded into a mist of blood before she could finish her sentence.
"Again."
Medusa's cold gaze swept across the room.
In Circe's time, she had shown mercy to her former friends. She refused to fight in earnest. But Medusa had no such sentimentality.
In her eyes, power was everything. What mattered how it was obtained?
The orthodox witches were bound by rules—that was why they lost.
To the victor, the world.
---
"Everything is about to change."
Medusa's eyes narrowed.
"Submit—or die."
"Never!"
Poof!
Blood splashed across the floor.
---
"You're Circe's disciple—please, show some respect!" cried a trembling old man. He was a legend, one of the few survivors from the era of the Three Great Witches.
Snap!
A surge of force slammed him into the palace wall. He spat blood, crumpling like a doll.
"Don't think age makes you important. Next," Medusa said.
Silence.
No one dared speak.
At the far end of the hall, Lilith stood bloodied. She gazed at the devastation—her eyes filled with grief.
Holding back her vengeful followers, she whispered:
"On behalf of the Kingdom of Babylon, I—Lilith—choose to submit."
"Your Majesty!!!"
The cry rang out from countless witches.
They remembered the darkest days of their kingdom. When the men had perished and the women sacrificed themselves to accept the blood of the Evil Eye, they had not submitted.
That was the glory of Babylon.
And now, it was gone.
The palace erupted into sobs. Witches collapsed to their knees, powerless, ashamed, broken.
From the streets came a mournful tune—without even realizing it, the people had begun to hum Beethoven's Symphony of Fate.
They all knew:
Unless the Three Great Witches themselves returned from the grave, no one could stop Medusa. A Level Five magician had brought ruin to Babylon.
---
Medusa was pleased.
She stepped over Lilith's battered form and sat on the throne of Babylon.
"From this day forth, there will be two kingdoms," she declared. "The Kingdom of Roses shall reign supreme. Babylon shall be its subordinate."
"Lilith will remain queen—but above the queen, there shall be an emperor."
"I will preside over both realms and rule all under heaven."
Her voice rang like prophecy.
"And from this day forward, Babylon's new role will be to breed males. One hundred men will be sent to the west each month as tribute. Of the 143 magicians in the kingdom, the 16 male wizards will be taken into my harem."
---
One by one, her decrees echoed through the kingdom via Sound Waves.
Cries of grief and despair erupted.
People screamed.
They sobbed.
They knew a new age had begun.
An age of darkness.
An age of extinction.
Once again, men had been reduced to tools of reproduction.