Over three hundred li east of the Mandrake Defensive Line, a small wolf-eared girl walked step by step across the endless prairie.
A gentle breeze swept by, setting the fields of faintly pink grass into a soft, rippling motion.
"Almost out of this place…" Hel murmured, climbing a low dirt mound. She raised one hand to shield her eyes from the glaring sun and looked out toward the farthest reaches of the plain.
According to what the Insect Princess had told her, four hundred li east of the Watchwall lay a vast grassland. The earth here had been bathed in blood and fire through countless generations of war, transforming the grass into something entirely different from the ordinary kind.
Starting from the Watchwall, one had to cross ten li of scorched earth before the first patches of vegetation began to appear — sparse, blood-red blades of grass. The farther east one went, the paler the color became, until, four hundred li later, the grass finally turned green again.
Some beastmen said that the grass had absorbed the blood of countless young warriors who had fallen defending the Watchwall — their sacrifice staining the plains themselves.
Others believed this was the result of some ancient human forbidden magic, for though the crimson grass grew lushly, it was fatally poisonous to beastmen.
Even eating small amounts would make one restless and violent. Continued consumption would turn one's eyes blood-red — until reason vanished completely, and the afflicted beastman would attack anything that moved.
Once, a beastman general had tried to use the bloodgrass as rations to "stimulate" his young soldiers into a fighting frenzy. The result: a full-scale mutiny.
Ever since, not even the lowest slave among beastmen would eat a single blade of bloodgrass, preferring hunger over madness.
The four-hundred-li stretch of this blighted soil came to be known as the Bloodstained Plains.
During wartime, several beastman encampments were stationed there. But now that the invasions had ceased, the tribes had withdrawn to ease the strain on supplies.
That was why, after days of travel across the Bloodstained Plains, Hel hadn't encountered a single living beastman.
Fortunately, the body she had created for this mission was strong enough. Traveling on foot, she covered the four hundred kilometers in just a few days and nights.
After several more hours, Hel finally spotted a line on the horizon — a faint border where pink faded into green. Beyond it, she saw rows of pointed tents rising like teeth from the earth. The shape and layout were unmistakable: a beastman military camp.
"So this is where their army's stationed…"
Hel quickened her pace. After cresting another small ridge, she finally saw the full scale of the encampment — stretching endlessly, its mass of tents forming what looked like a living fortress dividing the beastmen's domain from the blood-soaked plains.
Crouching low, she scanned the surroundings carefully. Only after ensuring the area was clear did she snap her fingers — summoning the Insect Princess from her training space.
The woman appeared with a flushed face and dazed eyes, but before she could regain her composure, Hel grabbed her arm and dragged her down beside her on the slope.
"Take a look," Hel whispered. "Tell me what kind of army we're dealing with."
The Insect Princess blinked several times before her expression turned focused. She gazed at the distant camp for a long while before finally speaking:
"Judging by the size of the tents and the banners flying, this force should belong to the division that King Aira pulled back. The one currently stationed here is likely the chief of the Fang Clan — an old veteran, and a seasoned Tier Six warrior."
"And if the Fang chieftain's here," she continued, "then his youngest son, General Fangtooth, should be serving under him as well."
After another careful look at the encampment's structure, her tone turned hesitant.
"Most of the troops here seem to be juvenile beastmen — the main army's probably no more than sixty thousand strong. By their standard organization, there should be four Tier Six combatants… No — after their last defeat, they may have left even fewer behind. Perhaps only the Fang father and son."
"As for whether there are any Saint-tier powerhouses here… I can't say. The Saints don't take part in mortal wars. They don't even stay in the same encampments as the regular forces."
"So," Hel mused, "they could be watching from some inconspicuous corner… or simpler still — from above."
She lifted her gaze to the blue sky overhead, but saw only drifting clouds. Nothing else.
"In that case, I can't afford to be too flashy," Hel said, tapping her chin. "I'll have to slip in quietly."
But just as she was about to move, the Insect Princess caught hold of her sleeve.
"Something's not right, Lady Death."
Hel followed her gaze toward the deepest part of the encampment — where a black banner marked with an inverted pentagram fluttered in the wind.
"That's… the flag of the Witch's Palace!"
"The Witch's Palace?" Hel blinked. "What's that?"
Seeing the grave look on the Insect Princess's face, Hel backed away from the ridge, waiting for an explanation.
The Insect Princess took a deep breath, her tone low and serious.
"The Supreme Church is just like the Holy Tribunal — it's divided into factions. In fact, their divisions are even clearer.
Leaving aside the minor sects, there are truly only three powers that control the church: the Seven Kings, the Seven Calamities, and the Witch's Palace.
Oh — and now, with the return of the God-Seeker Society, we should count them as well."
"The Seven Kings and Seven Calamities are more like titles — designations given to witches of the Supreme lineage. Those titles themselves don't hold much authority.
But the Witch's Palace… that's different."
"It was founded by the Witch of Desire — leader of both the Seven Kings and the Seven Calamities. The Palace is her direct power base — the true ruling body of the entire Supreme Church."
"So you mean," Hel said thoughtfully, her eyes brightening, "that all witches who aren't directly of the Supreme lineage end up joining this Witch's Palace?"
If that was true, she might have just found her lead on the Beast Witch's whereabouts.
But the Insect Princess shook her head.
"I'm not sure. Officially, the Palace is said to be led solely by the Witch of Desire — but almost no one believes that. Some claim the true master behind the faction isn't her at all, but another witch — one who hides herself so deeply she might even be among the Seven Kings or Seven Calamities themselves.
No one knows the truth."
"I see…" Hel rubbed her chin, then clapped her hands once decisively.
"Well, since we've run into them, there's no reason to let the chance slip by, right? Maybe those from the Witch's Palace know something we don't."
"But…" the Insect Princess hesitated, her tone uneasy.
"The Witch's Palace priests — they have ways to communicate with Saint-tier beings."