Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King

Chapter 1089: 1089 Survivors

While nearly everyone around him was kneeling under the oppressive force of Wolfe’s unrestrained Aura, Cassie and Ella stood unaffected, as well as one undead woman who was slowly shambling forward.

Her gaze was unfocused, and her gait unstable, but she was headed straight for Wolfe with all the speed and grace of a hip replacement patient.

“Nox…

Noxus Patriarch. You lied to us.” The undead stammered.

Wolfe waited as she stumbled out into the light and turned her face skyward for a few minutes before surrounding herself in magic.

The undead woman’s face slowly returned to an approximation of healthy life, and her robes repaired themselves to reveal deep black witch robes in the same style that the witches still used for formal occasions.

“You lied to us Noxus Patriarch. You said you would be back with a surviving Saint to revive the Witches.” She repeated.

“And I am. I am here, and I brought ten Witch Saints with me. They are the first since the war, there were no others to bring you.” Wolfe explained.

“We have been here, waiting for you. But you left us for centuries.”

“Would you like to be alive again?” Wolfe asked.

“You promised. Why didn’t you come to save us? We are all undead.”

Wolfe turned to Cassie and Ella and whispered a question. “Can you do it? If you heal them while you cleanse the undead curse, she should return to life.”

Cassie nodded. “They’re not truly dead. Their souls are stuck in their bodies, but we can fix the bodies.”

The two witches held hands as they cast the spells to revive the woman, who was still staring at Wolfe, waiting for him to answer.

The healing power surrounded the undead woman, and Ella gasped.

“They’re the core. These undead are the witches who served as the core of the Bloodline Curse. The reason it strengthened every generation was because they never received relief from their anguish.

The previous Noxus Patriarch must have promised to come back for them and cleanse the curse, to return them to life once the One World Army had repented.”

Wolfe nodded in understanding. That made sense. Nothing that was done at the end, other than the reshaping of the world, was intended to be permanent. It was just that there weren’t enough survivors to change the way that things were done in a positive direction, and the world fell to chaos.

Over the next few seconds, life returned to the undead’s body, while the other undead watched in fascination.

Once she was fully revived, the surprisingly youthful Rank Five witch stared around, confused.

“You’re not him. Where is the Noxus Patriarch?” She asked.

“I am the Noxus Patriarch now. The one you’re thinking of died in the final attack of the war. These are the first Saints of any sort that the world has produced since then. There were some complications, as you will surely notice soon.” Wolfe explained.

The witch looked around. “Like the fact that the mountain is gone and everything is melted or scorched? Plus, why is there so much curse corruption left after all this time?”

“Your group here was the focal point of a bloodline curse that spread over the world, reducing the power of every generation of witches until they couldn’t even make it past the First Rank without the assistance of Mana Beasts or other outside sources.

There is a lot to go through, but I will have the Saints bring the rest of the survivors back as one large group, in case some of them lost most of their minds when they became undead.” Wolfe offered.

“Please do. You are centuries too late to keep the promise, and from what I can tell, our whole home is destroyed, except the subterranean levels.”

Ella sighed and patted her on the shoulder. “The same is true for the majority of the world. There are only three major covens left in the south. Morgana, Sylvan and Myrrh, and they only survived because they sheltered in Fortress Cities.

There are scattered covens in the north, and humans in the east, but society is nothing like what it was before the war.

As Wolfe said, there is a lot for you to catch up on.

Would you like to join us for the casting? You know everyone we’re cleansing, and that should help repair their bodies and minds.”

“Tell me one thing first. Did we win? Are the slaves free?”

Ella shook her head. “The slaves are free now. We freed the last of them in this generation, or at least we think that’s the last of them. But nobody won. 90 percent of the world’s population died during the war.”

There were tears in her eyes as the Witch moved to join the circle.

“We need two more ladies for a full circle. It will make it easier. What about the pale twins? They’re powerful enough.” She requested.

“They’re demons, is that fine?” Cassie asked.

“Demons? Why are there unbound demons in the world?”

Wolfe laughed. “Oh, you’re in for a shock. There are Fae all over the place as well. It’s a long story.”

“If there were Fae Saints here, it would be even better, but thirteen is an important number for resonance.”

“In that case, take Nimue, she is half Dryad, and then lady Carmine. She’s not a Wrath Demon, at least. If the nature of the casters matters, we probably don’t want to encourage more Wrath.” Wolfe offered.

Nimue ran over to take the Witch’s other hand, and the recently revived woman smiled.

“Dryads always feel right. I used to have one as a Familiar. Perhaps I might get one again with the next summoning.”

After two hundred years as an undead, it made sense that the Familiar Bond had completely disintegrated, assuming she ever had more than one to begin with.

Everyone moved back to the circle, and the woman took a deep breath, then stared at Wolfe.

“Why does the mana taste like you? You know what, never mind, that can be dealt with later.

Ladies, I am Silvana, youngest daughter of Queen Sylvan. Please join with me to resurrect the martyrs and trust my guidance in this spell.”

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