Chapter 175

Kiiiiing!

A semi-transparent blue barrier repelled the thornbush trying to push into the building.

Kagagajek!

The thornbush was crawling along the surface of the sphere, looking for a way in.

I saw soldiers running around and the commander checking the situation. Behind them, the staff of this accommodation were rushing to block the windows.

It seems they were prepared as metal panels slid into place with a click when inserted into frames.

When everyone stopped moving and checked the seals, our location had become a small shelter.

Definitely a high-class residence.

The security is better than expected. Though if a witch could just waltz in, she must be abnormally powerful.

Not many harvesters are still active in the capital. Some were crushed by tree branches spreading along roads, others fell asleep after being pricked, and some are trembling inside their homes while black thorns slowly invade.

Even doors tightly shut can’t stop branches growing through cracks and stabbing people like insect stings. Just a slight prick and you fall unconscious.

Thanks to the barrier here, no thorns have breached yet.

“Is it safe here?”

“Not for long.”

The commander answered my question. He’s directing his calm troops – no one’s panicking. Some are attempting magical communication while others activate mechanical devices.

The device soon emits its characteristic hum and projects light.

And it shows an image of the outside.

Whoa, hologram!

Though it’s magic-based tech, some parts are surprisingly advanced.

The view from above shows massive black thorns spreading across major roads.

The number of harvester viewpoints keeps decreasing.

Among them, Victoria is still fighting. She’s cutting approaching branches with water streams. Doesn’t seem too difficult since they’re just regular trees otherwise.

“Shadow? Switch the camera to sky view!”

Looking at both the screen and harvester feeds, the commander points upward.

The view pans up…

Above the city…

A massive black dragon is flying. Its limbs, wings, and horns make it look like a classic dragon, but the commander mutters “Witch.”

“Lower the camera. Don’t show the full image, just follow her feet or we’ll be detected.”

The view quickly zooms down as the witch turns away, seemingly unaware.

“What’s the plan?”

The commander tightens his face before replying: “Don’t worry, the kingdom has been preparing for witches for a long time.”

They don’t say they can defeat her though. Watching the feed, beams of light are firing at the dragon from the city center.

Meanwhile, Sorindiges is taking Aurora to the basement of her building. He says he’s prepared to protect her.

But once it was breached before, so now he’s taken extra precautions.

That’s right.

Aurora falling into a deep sleep meant that preparation failed.

Ordinary people would’ve died ages ago, but as a princess, she was kept alive with advanced technology. Just kept alive.

Holes were drilled in her body to supply nutrients, her limbs were massaged daily to prevent stiffness, and she was moved regularly to avoid bedsores.

If she wasn’t a princess, who would do all that?

“You powerless insects! How dare you challenge me! The queen of all evil! You think you can win against me? That delusion ends today along with your nation!”

Maleficent’s voice booms through the building. Simultaneously, a beam fired at her bounces back.

An explosion sounds from the direction of the royal castle, darkening everyone’s faces.

But only briefly.

Suddenly fiery rocks shoot out of the ground toward Maleficent…

But disintegrate in black flames before reaching her.

“You insolent vermin! Fine then, let me teach you your place! [I hereby strip you of your magic rights!]”

Her words sound like they’re coming from both sides simultaneously.

The effect is immediate.

Clang! Outside armor rings, then all machines inside shut down. Even the lights go out, plunging us into pitch darkness.

After some rustling and thuds, a small flame appears.

“What is this?”

Thornbush has already invaded the interior walls somehow, covering them completely.

People near the walls start collapsing one by one. As they fall, the black thorns crawl over their bodies.

Terrified soldiers swing their weapons, but are quickly stabbed by thorns sprouting from all directions.

The commander fights until the end, swinging his sword before falling too.

The thorns reach me…

But I don’t fall asleep. The sharp thorn pierces my skin, but I feel no drowsiness and my body moves fine. I manipulate the lifeless plant to twist reality.

Crack.

Surprisingly, it resists slightly.

Using experience from another world, I carefully concentrate my power. Like popping a bubble, a white branch appears on my hand.

Swinging it cuts the black thorns away.

Indeed.

Swinging again, the branch growing through the window swells up and breaks the seal.

Ah, got the hang of it.

I climb onto the white branch.

Strangely, these thorns have no intent to kill. There’s no murderous malice in this black thornbush.

So it won’t directly harm Maleficent.

Which means I need to go to her.

I exit through the window. Though surrounded by thorns, they part automatically when I swing the white branch.

Looking up, the witch is no longer in the sky.

Still easy to find though.

There’s a harvester using psychic powers against her.

The capital has over 300 psychics. Of those, 43 chose to fight the witch.

Their numbers keep dwindling though – torn apart by dragon claws, burned by fire breath, melted by magic.

Still, they fight desperately.

Not just launching abilities, they combine powers and use terrain to attack.

But time is on the witch’s side. Harvesters are killed or put to sleep by black thorns one by one.

And Maleficent crushes those sleeping bodies underfoot, mocking their weakness and declaring nothing can harm her.

Psychic fighters keep dying until only one remains.

Victoria Bet.

From the harvester viewpoint, Victoria almost fell several times. But Maleficent didn’t attack when she had the chance.

At first I thought it was coincidence, but when Victoria kept shooting water without interference while others died beside her, it became clear.

She was deliberately spared.

Finally, a black-scaled dragon hand grabs Victoria’s torso.

“Ah, foolish little girl. Did you really think you could defeat the power of hell?”

Victoria’s abdomen contracts as Maleficent tightens her grip.

Shaking in pain, Victoria draws blood from her hand to form a spike, aiming for the dragon’s eyes.

But it bounces off the eyelid.

“Haha! Clever try, but ineffective against me. Tori, that’s not enough.”

Victoria gasps in shock, staring at Maleficent before stammering out:

“Mal…?”

“Yes, that’s right. Mal is my nickname. Not Maryweather, but Maleficent’s nickname. Remember that, Victoria Bet.”

Like a cat toying with prey, Maleficent giggles, keeping her dragon arms while shifting back to her guard’s appearance.

Meaning this was Maleficent’s true form all along.

“What did you do to Bell!”

“Ah, that monster? Likely asleep from a thorn prick by now. Even if not, unable to escape the thorn prison. I watched for a while, doesn’t seem very strong.”

Maleficent laughs.

“No one can save you, Tori.”

While slowly tightening her grip.

“Why… why are you doing this?”

Finally, Victoria asks through tears and a choked voice.

“Well, because I’m the queen of evil? Though there was a reason. Long ago, when you were just born, the king insulted me. I tried to take revenge, but he used underhanded methods to escape it.”

She’s talking about Aurora. The Sleeping Beauty story connection makes sense now.

“The king disgraced me, so the nation must pay.”

Unreasonable.

For such a reason, Victoria can barely croak out a response, likely due to Maleficent’s crushing grip.

I’ve arrived at their battle site.

At this rate, Victoria will explode, so I’ll try drawing attention. Fairy tale villains are interested in rhymes, right?

“Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

Including a wish for Victoria to relax.

I approach, clearing black thorns with the white branch.

“Santa Claus doesn’t give presents to crying children, you know.”

Maleficent’s grip loosens at the rhyme. Then she drops Victoria, who coughs on the ground.

Without sparing her a glance, Maleficent stares straight at me.

“Who’s Santa Claus?”

She asks, clearly unsettled and confused. So I reply:

“He doesn’t give presents to bad children. Maryweather, you got tricked.”

“My name is Maleficent. Monster.”

She growls in response.

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