"Let's get acquainted. I'm the Witch of War."
Her grin was wild and unhinged as she took slow, deliberate steps toward Hel.
"You'd better remember my name—because one day…"
She bent down, her crimson eyes locking onto Hel's with predatory delight.
"I'll personally tear off that cute little head of yours."
War's voice dripped with cruel amusement as she continued,
"So before my army crushes everything in its path to reach you—savor the fear while you still can, little trash."
"War, are you trying to start an actual war?"
The one who spoke was Fate.
Although she and Hel had tested each other earlier, as the administrator of the Witches' Court, she occasionally had to mediate internal conflicts—at least in name.
In truth, she usually just said something neutral and left it at that.
Most witches gave her face… but War was the exception.
"War? Oh no, you misunderstand," War said, waving dismissively.
"I'm not starting a war—just initiating a Duel for the Throne with this brat."
"Duel for the Throne?"
At that, none of the other witches—aside from Hel—seemed surprised.
They'd likely guessed War's reason for coming the moment she appeared.
"War, do you have no shame? Why don't you challenge Calamity instead?
Death's still just a kid—you can't possibly—"
Star stopped mid-sentence.
She suddenly remembered Hel had said she wasn't actually a child—
and judging by her speech and composure, it was clear Hel wasn't as innocent as she looked.
But when Star glanced again at Hel's small, soft body—
white hair, delicate limbs, a figure that looked like a fluffy doll come to life—
she bit her lip and said anyway:
"If you dare lay a hand on little Death, I'll leak your location to Calamity!"
"Go ahead," War sneered.
"Calamity hasn't shown her face in years.
For all we know, she's sealed away somewhere.
And even if she did appear—so what?
She's nothing but a beaten dog, betrayed by her own followers and driven into hiding.
Do you really think she'd dare oppose the Supreme Church?
Or are you saying the Witches' Court wants to intervene?"
Her tone grew sharper, mocking.
"Don't forget—if it weren't for our fight against the Judgment Church,
you weaklings would've already been captured and turned into Holy Grails by those fanatics.
So tell me—how dare you talk to me like that?"
"You…"
Star's face flushed with anger, but no words came out.
Fate, meanwhile, simply smiled faintly and stayed silent—her "whatever happens, happens" attitude as unbothered as ever.
As for Lust, she was watching the show with gleeful amusement, clearly treating the whole thing like entertainment.
Then Magic finally spoke, her tone polite yet firm.
"War, your arrogance is as loud as ever.
But what if I said that our Magic Society has decided to protect her?"
"You—!"
Now it was War's turn to choke on her words.
She could mock Fate because Fate never got involved.
She could ignore Star and Lust because their power and backing were roughly equal to hers.
But Magic was different.
This was a legend among witches—a woman who, fifty years ago, had made her name resound throughout the Magic Empire.
It was said she once fought a demigod and did not lose even as a Saint-tier witch.
Among witches, there was a saying:
"Below demigods, she is invincible.
Against demigods, she trades one life for one."
Rumor had it that she later made some sort of agreement with the Church—
they gave her dominion over the Kingdom of Wind,
but in return, she was forbidden from leaving it.
Even so, her name still carried enormous weight.
"Death is a friend of our Magic Society," Magic said evenly.
"If you dare target her, it will be considered a declaration of war against us.
And Star is my personally recognized student.
So tell me, War—do you think she lacks the right to speak to you like that?"
"You…"
War's face turned bright red, trembling with fury.
It took her several seconds to collect herself before she spat out through gritted teeth:
"Come out of your damned turtle shell, then!
I don't believe this brat just happens to be in your Wind Kingdom.
And once she's outside your borders, my people will find her long before you can protect her.
The Authority of Death will be mine—and none of you…"
Her gaze swept across the room before fixing on Hel with venomous intensity.
"…none of you will stop me.
Enjoy what's left of your short life, little girl."
With that, War's projection vanished—she'd logged off.
"Unbelievable," Hel muttered, staring at the spot where War had stood.
Then she turned to Magic and said sincerely,
"Thank you for speaking up for me.
But could you explain something?
What exactly is the Supreme Church?
What's the Holy Grail?
And… what is this Duel for the Throne?"
Magic nodded, sitting back down beside her.
"The Supreme Church was originally the largest church in the Beastmen Empire,
but over time, it was completely taken over by witches aligned with the Supreme Faction.
What War said earlier was true—they're in direct conflict with the Judgment Church,
but they only accept witches from their own faction.
To everyone else, they're extremely hostile."
"I see…"
Hel's gaze shifted toward Lust, who was still enjoying the chaos.
With a hint of irony, she said,
"If I recall correctly, the God of Lust belongs to the Supreme Faction, right?
A fallen deity, but still technically a righteous god."
"Hey, hey, don't look at me like that!" Lust waved her hands.
"I've got zero interest in joining that bunch of maniacs.
Why would I give up civilized life just to live like a savage with them?"
Hel nodded in understanding, and Magic continued her explanation.
"As for the Holy Grail…" Magic's tone grew heavier.
"That's not something young witches should know.
Just remember this:
if you're ever captured by the Judgment Church,
kill yourself before they take you.
There are fates far worse than death."
Hel nodded obediently—she wasn't the curious type.
If Magic said not to ask, she wouldn't.
Curiosity kills cats—and Hel prided herself on being a dog.
A true survivalist never pokes the bear.
"As for the Duel for the Throne," Magic said at last,
"it's a battle of succession between witches of the same divine lineage.
If a lower-ranked witch kills a higher-ranked one within the same pantheon,
she has a chance to devour the other's Divine Fragment,
and thereby claim her Authority."