She Is Not a Witch

After returning to the Tisilan Mountain Range, Loranhil naturally received letters sent by Pullman through the rabbit-eared tribe.

As the initiator and core member of the Western Wind uprising, Pullman naturally took the leadership position. However, Cransia was not a feudal country like in the past; they were trying to forge their own path.

Combining the knowledge given by Loranhil, they began to establish their own government institutions. Most of these incorporated some advanced modern ideals, while also integrating the former consul system of the Mercury Dynasty, forming a new system.

First, the highest political institution of the country was the Star Assembly, with the highest leader of the country called the Star Leader. Then, various systems and institutions were established according to the country’s needs, such as education, military affairs, agriculture, commerce, and so on.

The Star Leader was elected by the assembly and appointed their own team during their term to hold various important positions, controlling the overall situation with themselves as the core.

Pullman’s letter was, of course, an invitation for Loranhil, hoping she would come to Cransia.

Although she understood this was Pullman’s gratitude and sincere wish, Loranhil still didn’t want to go, at least not yet.

Firstly, when Pullman was spreading that knowledge, although there was no portrait of her, he had told many people the name Loranhil. If she went, she would likely be worshipped as a saint.

But this feeling wasn’t good. Only the dead or non-existent are perfect; the living are bound to make mistakes.

If she went to Cransia, too many people and things would be influenced by her. Even if she said something wrong or made a mistake, no one would dare to point it out. This would undoubtedly be a disaster, easily leading to a situation where she’s put on a pedestal and things go awry. In the end, either her image would be shattered and she’d be attacked, or she’d bear an increasingly enormous responsibility.

So even if she were to go, it wouldn’t be now, but after they had stabilized somewhat. This way, she wouldn’t interfere with their own ideas.

Thus, she wrote a long reply, explaining her thoughts to Pullman, and politely declined her student’s invitation.

⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱

Gufia Alliance, White Frost Prairie.

The cold wind howled, the chest-high signal grass undulating in the wind. The thick pasture spread like a green ocean across the entire field of vision. Walking through it, one had to constantly push aside the grass in front. Cattle and sheep occasionally appeared and disappeared in the tall grass.

Since the fall of the Wild Fang Empire a thousand years ago, this northern prairie had gradually become the last refuge for the beast-folk.

About forty tribes lived here, representing various branches of the beast-folk. Some were very powerful, with populations of several million, while others were extremely weak, with as few as several hundred people struggling on the brink of extinction.

Not every tribe was fortunate enough to encounter a silver-haired girl who would save them. More often, they silently disappeared from this world. In fact, this was the norm in the world; countless races had gone extinct from ancient times to the present. Nature constantly evolves and eliminates, regardless of individual wishes.

A desolate horn sounded in the wind, the white grains of the signal grass slowly dancing in the breeze like countless dandelions. A chestnut-haired girl, holding a long staff, walked through the chest-high sea of grass. Around her was a circle of beast-folk from various tribes, some cheering, some howling, some beating drums that sounded like thunder.

The drumbeats shook the sky. Opposite the girl stood a giant man over three meters tall, his face full of beard and reddish-brown hair, holding a massive axe as tall as a person horizontally in his hands.

The girl wore gray clothes and a short skirt suitable for movement. Behind her ears were a pair of downward-curving horns, like sheep’s horns guarding her ears. The giant man’s sideburns were like a lion’s mane, full of power and intimidation.

As the sheep-horned girl approached, the lion-like giant roared, the fierce sound wave immediately pressing down the grass in front, forcing the girl to plant her staff in the ground to resist the gust that threatened to blow her away.

With her eyes blurred by the wind, she could only lower her head and block with her arm. The ground beneath her feet trembled as the heavy axe swept across, cutting a huge arc through the air with a terrifying whistle.

The sheep-horned girl had no time to run. She immediately dropped to her knees and fell backward. The sharp axe passed over her face, as if chopping small firewood, instantly cutting off a section of her staff. Some of her chestnut hair was also cut. She narrowly avoided this attack that almost killed her.

After the giant axe swept past, she moved quickly, still holding the remaining portion of her staff.

As flames spread along the staff, a flicker of fire seemed to flash in her dark brown pupils. She swung the staff, scattering flames that ignited the grass, spreading outward in an arc like a wall of fire advancing forward.

At the same time, many flames like snakes twisted and flew through the air, shooting towards the giant opposite her.

The lion-like giant swung his massive axe, the strong wind pressure immediately extinguishing the fire snakes in front of him. Then he raised his axe, swinging it around his body in a full moon-like trajectory, clearing the grass around him. With a thunderous shout, a fierce gust scattered the surrounding grass, making it fly in all directions.

The spreading fire on the ground, faced with this cleared firebreak, struggled to advance.

Taking advantage of the momentary separation created by the flames, the sheep-horned girl quickly waved her staff. The intensely burning flames followed the staff as it drew circle after circle in the air. These circles of fire rolled on the ground like wheels, catching the grass, continuously burning and spreading.

Seeing this, the lion-like giant immediately raised his giant axe. A brilliant light appeared on the axe’s surface. Following the axe’s strike through the air, a beam of axe-light cut through the atmosphere, flying rapidly forward.

The sheep-horned girl saw the giant axe flash with light, but before she could think, the speeding axe-light was already upon her, cold and sharp, extremely dangerous.

The staff shattered, fresh blood sprayed in the air. From her right shoulder down to her left side, a long gash appeared on her body. Bone-chilling pain, thick blood, a frail body unable to stand.

The sheep-horned girl let out a painful scream, her fingers clawing at the ground, grabbing some broken soil and withered grass roots.

Ignoring her injuries, she struggled to quickly prop herself up. One eye was closed from the pain, the other nervously observing the rapidly approaching giant figure opposite her. In the firelight, accompanied by those heavy footsteps, that massive body holding the giant axe seemed to block out the sky as it rushed towards her.

“Flame Convergence!”

Facing forward, she stretched out her only usable arm. The flames scattered on the ground surged towards her opponent. On the huge field with a diameter of three hundred meters, the scattered fire circles that were continuously igniting converged towards the central target, rising like a volcanic eruption.

The transparent crimson flames brought suffocating high temperatures, constantly entangling the lion-maned giant. Each breath he took was a breath of fire, burning him inside and out. He roared violently, the fiery air waves scattering in all directions, but he still couldn’t break free from this invisible burning cage.

The flames rose, constantly engulfing him. Finally, this massive and powerful body crashed down, leaving only a charred remains. The beast-folk watching around excitedly shouted and yelled, as if cheering, as if celebrating. They paid no mind to this tragically deceased member of their race, as if it was commonplace, a familiar sight.

Those familiar with their customs didn’t find it strange, for this was the way of the beast-folk of the Gufia Prairie. They were arrogant and fearless, loved fighting, despised the weak, and had no fear of death.

The sheep-horned girl sat quietly on the grass, looking at the charred body that no longer breathed. All around her were the cheers of other beast-folk. For some reason, she felt a chill and sadness in her heart.

At this moment, a highly respected shaman walked into the center of the field, raised his wooden staff, and announced amidst the cheers:

“Nya of the Sheep-Horn tribe is victorious! And she will gain the qualification to go to Emenas!”