The Cornflower Witch

Bringing the captured Kossel and the Firefox to the damaged track, they found not only the City Lord and the local guards, but also a group of ragged rebels. Among them were some professional troublemakers. Although their strength was far inferior to the City Lord’s guards, they threatened the City Lord, saying that if they couldn’t return alive, they would blow the track outside the city apart.

It seemed clear these people were Kossel’s accomplices.

When Sylutia led Kossel over, the rebels visibly panicked. After all, Kossel was the strongest among them, and his contracted Firefox was the main reason their plan had a chance of succeeding.

The Fifth Tier Illusion Flame Firefox was not only agile, it could also use flames to easily disguise and cover their movements. Without that fox, this group would have long ago been wiped out by Gilson’s forces.

Now that the Firefox had been caught and frozen into ice crystals, the rebels lost their backbone and naturally became anxious and chaotic.

“Release Kossel, or we’ll detonate the track outside.”

“You Alliance lackeys!” someone cursed.

Facing their hostile stares, Sylutia felt like a villain in a story. She had only come to inspect the scene and restore rail traffic as quickly as possible.

They set Kossel down. He no longer had his former composure, clutching his frostbitten arm and looking down in silence.

When Sylutia dragged the mastermind over, the City Lord’s face lit up with delight.

“So it was this Firefox causing the confusion, and this outsider... It was all them. They dared to sabotage the Alliance’s plan.” He prepared to have Kossel dragged over to pressure the rebels.

But as a few guards approached, members of the Inspection Department intercepted them. Seeing this, Gilson immediately turned his gaze to the nearby girl.

Sylutia ignored the City Lord and instead walked to the rebels, scanning them carefully.

These people didn’t seem disguised; they were genuinely the poor lower-class residents of the city. Their hands were callused from frostbite, and the wrinkles and weary marks on their faces showed they had suffered a lot.

Their situation might be understandable, but if the North Wind Defense Line were to fail, the consequences would be unimaginable. For Sylutia, ensuring the trains ran quickly was the priority.

“I know you’re dissatisfied with the City Lord, but if you keep sabotaging things—even if you have no choice—this behavior has already severely affected the survival of ordinary people across the northern regions,” Sylutia said. “Every day the track stops, supplies get stuck, and who knows how many will freeze or starve in the cold.”

“Your suffering is real, and I won’t ignore it,” she continued, “but if you don’t explain and only resist in this manner, I can’t defend your case.”

Her words made the rebels waver. With Kossel captured, they were already in danger. If they continued to resist, they might be able to blow the track and delay things for a time, but they would also completely antagonize the Inspection Department, leaving no safe retreat afterward.

Seeing that Sylutia had not sided with them, Gilson’s expression shifted and a hidden resentment flashed in his eyes.

Kossel regained some clarity and looked at the girl’s retreating back, a hope rekindling in his eyes.

Soon several rebels stepped forward and began to tell their story.

Since the storm struck, many villages in the Worze District wilderness had been destroyed. Small towns couldn’t withstand the powerful winds; many people and livestock were lost to the gale. Survivors naturally flocked to Worze’s main city.

As the city’s stranded population increased, food prices rose. At first people could grit their teeth, but prices soon reached levels ordinary people couldn’t afford. The City Lord Gilson had not enacted effective price controls.

Riots, looting, and theft broke out across the city. The guards were overwhelmed. The City Lord had first focused on disaster relief and contacted the guild to lower food prices.

But that lasted only a few days. The City Lord later announced that the city reserves were insufficient to continue relief, and when food prices surged, he used severe measures. Anyone who started riots was executed.

Temporary order held, but hunger persisted. As people’s savings dwindled, conflicts grew until everything finally exploded.

The rebels’ account matched most of what Sylutia had heard before, though details differed slightly.

“In truth, the city still had food, but the City Lord and several small guilds hoarded it together,” one man pointed out. “They deliberately kept prices high to reap more profit.”

“Indeed, there was some stock, but I had to think of the city’s long-term needs. If we gave it all away now and the storm continued, how could we survive the winter?”

“Sir, you must know how hard it is to get support from the Alliance Council now. Every place needs aid. Worze District is remote and less important than other regions. How can I be sure we’ll receive enough supplies later?”

“True, I watched many starve, but it was the disaster’s inevitable result. Our reserves weren’t meant for them. Giving them food before was a great favor.”

“Do you want me to hand over all the food, exhaust our supplies, and then watch everyone die together?” he said through gritted teeth, voice rising.

Some guards empathized and stepped up for the City Lord.

“That’s exactly right. We owe these people nothing. Why should we share our precious food when they won’t even pay?”

“They’re pitiable, but what about us? If there’s no food, do you expect me to watch my family starve?”

When the rebels heard this, they shouted back in outrage.

“Nonsense! You despicable lot—do you think your crocodile tears will fool us?”

“You’ve hidden enough in your warehouses to last one or two years. Now you exaggerate as if your kin truly died!”

“I watched my daughter go from lively to speechless with hunger. She slowly wasted away. You should all die for this!”

Anger flared on both sides. Accusations and insults flew, and the guards replied that the rebels deserved punishment and that the Alliance owed them nothing.

Sylutia raised her hand. A deep-blue runic imprint appeared and invisible ripples spread out, delivering a cold mental shock. It wasn’t intense, but it was enough to make people pause.

She didn’t immediately judge who was right or wrong. Instead, she had them choose several representatives, and sent her team to verify the city’s food reserves.

“Does the City Lord agree to this verification?” Sylutia asked Gilson, who had been silent.

“Of course, without complaint.” He looked calm and made no objection.

The inspection team returned after about forty minutes with their report.

They had checked all the city warehouses and indeed found little surplus. Based on Worze’s population consumption, supplies would last one to two months.

“What about the guilds?” Sylutia asked.

“The guilds’ declared warehouses were checked too. Combined they can provide about three months’ worth.”

There was indeed little surplus, consistent with Gilson’s earlier claim. Sylutia turned her gaze to Kossel; she still suspected his motives were not so simple.

Kossel stood up on trembling legs. His wounds had only barely healed and he couldn’t run.

“I have something to say,” he said to Sylutia.

“Speak.”

“There are eight small guilds in the city. They are Demis Guild, Purple Silk Guild, Siari Guild... I can only name five. The Purple Silk Guild has secret warehouses you don’t know of. The grain hidden there is definitely substantial.”

“If he knows, why did he do this here?” Sylutia blinked.

With his Seventh Tier strength and the Seventh Tier Illusion Flame Firefox, few could stop him. Did he think that a guild would hire a Seventh Tier Transcendent to guard a warehouse?

Kossel sighed, knowing that revealing the truth might make him lose credibility today.

“Because I had ulterior motives. I wanted to take revenge on City Lord Gilson and make him lose power.”

“For vengeance?” the girl asked.

“Yes, but not for myself. It’s for my old classmate Saran.”

“That sounds like a long story. Tell me as we walk.” Sylutia instructed a few people to stay, then led Kossel to the location he indicated.

Seeing this, Gilson was furious but dared not explode on the spot. After Sylutia left, he quietly instructed his men to send word.

Following Kossel’s guidance, they reached a corner of the city — the Workshop Zone. Shops lined the street and various workshops filled the interiors, with large mechanical installations visible.

“Keep going inside. In Workshop 78 there’s a warehouse storing coal briquettes. Move the briquettes and you’ll find a passage below leading to a large storage.”

They quickly arrived. People from the Purple Silk Guild tried to block them, but when they saw members of the Inspection Department, they scattered in fear and could only watch as the inspectors moved the piled briquettes and found the sealed warehouse entrance beneath.

Inside they indeed discovered substantial supplies: not only food, but metals, weapons, and armor.

At that moment, the Purple Silk Guild’s manager arrived and stood before Sylutia.

She was a dark purple-haired woman with alluring looks, dressed in a wine-red gown and holding a silk folding fan, flanked by the guild’s elite guards.

“Sir, please allow me to explain.” She stepped forward, clasping her hands and bowing.

“These reserves are our guild’s last safeguard. While in a crisis they should indeed be used to get people through, they’re also the fruit of our labor. We would like to ask some questions.”

“Ask.”

Sylutia felt events peeling apart like a yarn ball; the more she pulled, the more threads came loose.

“Will the relief supplies come only from our guild, or will all guilds contribute?”

“Will our guild members be included in relief? Will their families be guaranteed?”

“Will the Alliance officially compensate and provide consolation later?”

“When distributions are made, will the food be distributed in the Alliance’s name or in our guild’s name?”

Sharp questions. If Sylutia had been heavy-handed, she might have had the woman arrested on the spot. But she sensed the woman believed Sylutia cared about the common folk’s fate, and so dared question her. Sylutia began answering directly.

“For now, only your guild will hand out its last reserves.”

“Your guild members and their families should be included in relief and receive appropriate protection.”

“The Alliance should later provide compensation; if not, I will help you apply.”

“The relief will be distributed under the Purple Silk Guild’s name.”

The woman bowed in thanks and stepped aside.

Sylutia ordered her team to coordinate with the city guard to organize food distribution, temporarily easing hunger and prices, then returned with personnel to the damaged track. Gilson had already been informed of the discovery.

“I truly did not know the Purple Silk Guild concealed reserves. I ask for your pardon, sir.” He chose to present it as something he hadn’t been aware of.

Some mistakes can be admitted as ignorance, which is easier to accept than deliberate malfeasance. Even if a guild hoarded supplies, the matter alone might not be enough to convict the City Lord; at most he might be demoted. Sylutia knew Kossel was hiding other secrets — these facts alone couldn’t unseat the City Lord.

As expected, Kossel spoke up again.

“You really didn’t know, City Lord Gilson?” he challenged.

“Will you swear that if you did know of other guilds’ hoarding, or transferred food from official warehouses to the guilds, you would immediately commit ritual suicide to atone?”

While the hours won’t enforce vows, the existence of the Secret Word Aspect allowed many methods to verify the truth of an oath. The cost and difficulty were higher, but verification was possible.

“I can swear,” Gilson replied through gritted teeth.

He inhaled, ready to speak, but hesitated when Inspection Department members produced recording devices. Panic crept into his eyes and he faltered.

After a few seconds he resumed and swore in a measured voice.

“I swear there is no falsehood in what I say.”

“After the storm, I worked diligently to help victims, opened numerous locations to shelter survivors, and distributed food.”

“I negotiated with guilds to assist in relief and entrusted representatives to do their best. I accepted no money or bribes, and did not transfer food to guilds.”

“On the contrary, I used my savings to buy food and distribute it to civilians to alleviate famine.”

It sounded flawless, but Kossel immediately contradicted him.

“No. You should swear that you did not transfer food elsewhere, not merely that you didn’t sell it!”

Gilson’s expression shifted, but he continued to swear.

“I did not move food elsewhere.” After he spoke, an inspector came to Sylutia’s side.

“He just lied.”

Sylutia looked over to where the track was almost repaired.

“City Lord Gilson, if you can persuade the remaining guilds to release their reserves for relief, I can temporarily refrain from pursuing accountability for the train delay caused by this riot.”

His voice choked. If he agreed now, it would imply his earlier oath was false; if he denied it, how long could he hold out under inspection?

At that moment another key city figure arrived.

Tall and sword-browed, clad in an iron-gray robe, his aura and the badge on his chest marked him as a high-ranking Fifth Tier mage. He was the head of the Worze District Mage Guild, the local tower guardian and a member of the Lightning School: Galit, nicknamed “Magneto Storm.”

“Sorry I’m late. I also bear some responsibility for the track damage. Miss Hedra, please don’t be too hard on City Lord Gilson.” He arrived with a group in lightning robes like moving thunderclouds; the air flickered faintly with electric currents.

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