"This is where you last docked?" Tilly asked, gazing at the towering cliffs ahead.
The beautiful ship, upon spotting the coastline, sailed westward along the shore until it reached this beach, where Ash finally shouted for the ship to stop.
"Look," she said, pointing to the top of the hill.
Tilly looked in the direction she pointed and saw two orange flags fluttering in the wind.
"Though it was still a beach when we last came, those two flags mean we haven't strayed." "I remember too," Old Jack said with his pipe in his mouth, "but last time they used a giant balloon to ferry all the Witches over the cliff. How do you plan to cross?" "A giant balloon?" Tilly asked curiously.
"Indeed, it can take flight when filled with steam," Ash nodded. "Legend has it this was invented by Your Highness Roland, harnessing the rising force of hot air to lift both the balloon and its rider." The Fifth Princess Godse's expression grew enigmatic. "The court tutors never taught such tricks," she mused, exhaling a puff of white vapor. "We'll meet him soon enough. The outcome will be clear then. Let's disembark." "Are you certain you won't wait for him on the ship?" The captain shook off the ashes. "What of this cliff?" "Leave it to Savie," Tilly replied with a smile.
As this was a naturally formed coastline with no known seabed depth, the 'Pretty Lady' couldn't approach dangerously close. They had to deploy a landing craft to ferry people ashore on the shallow beach.
As the group stepped onto the thick snow, Tilly turned to Jack the One-Eyed. "Captain, could you please wait here for three or four days? Lian and the others still need your help to return to Sleeping Island." "Certainly," the captain replied. "Without you on board, I wouldn't dare return the same way. Who knows if those mutated water ghosts might come knocking again." Tilly approached the cliff's edge and used the Magic Stone's power to soar straight to the mountaintop. She surveyed the surroundings—the terrain behind the mountain was much higher than the shallow beach, nearly level with the summit, meaning they only needed to climb rather than descend. The cliff's height was about fifty paces. While the barrier would significantly increase Magic Power consumption when pushing objects, this distance shouldn't pose much difficulty for Savie. She slowly descended beside the four. "Savie, those three are your problem." "Yes, Tilly," the latter said with a smile, patting her chest. After two days of rest, she had recovered from the violent impacts of the sea monster. Once everyone had stepped onto the transparent barrier, she activated Magic Power to ascend slowly, soon crossing the mountain ridge.
Guided by the ashes, the group finally reached Border Town after a long journey.
The first thing that caught Tili's eye was a uniquely designed steel bridge. Spanning the wide river, it had only two piers at its base. Apart from the neatly arranged iron beams and columns, the entire structure was devoid of any superfluous decorations or patterns. The contrast between the snow-covered bridge deck and the exposed black bridge body was striking, creating an indescribable sense of grandeur at first glance.
"This bridge... is truly massive," He Feng mused. "How many iron ingots must they've melted to build something like this?" "What a waste of materials! A simple pontoon bridge could've solved the passage problem. Why go to such lengths?" Ash retorted dismissively. "Border Town is the final stop for merchant fleets. Do any ships still want to trade at the river's source?" "What shallow opinions," Andrea swayed her index finger elegantly. "Even if I weren't from Graycastle, I'd recognize this western woodland's potential for cultivation. No town now doesn't mean none in the future. If territorial expansion is desired, venturing into the no-man's land would be ideal. Pontoon bridges would then become obstacles to river transport. Lord Tilly's elder brother clearly thinks further ahead than you do." Ash raised an eyebrow. "You used to call the crude Noble who favored barbaric cooking' Lord Tilly's elder brother'?" "That term was your invention," the blonde witch snorted. "Moreover, foresight and barbaric cooking don't conflict. Stop spreading rumors about Lord Tilly." Tilly paid no heed to their routine quarrel, instead turning her gaze across the river.
She noticed an incredible phenomenon.
The sky still blanketed the town with light snow, and the temperature was as harsh as winter's coldest days. Normally, residents would huddle in their homes—some by the hearth, others curled up under blankets. Even in the capital, winter streets were nearly deserted: the bitter cold drained vitality, and to stay warm, people had to eat more than usual, let alone risk catching a cold outdoors. Thus, beyond basic necessities, most civilians avoided movement during the season.
Yet the riverside of the small town was constantly bustling with people—some pushing carts, others carrying large bags, hurrying as if engaged in labor. Tilly found no overseers wielding whips among them, indicating that these individuals were working entirely voluntarily.
How is this possible?
After crossing the iron bridge, two guards wielding peculiar long spears approached immediately. Dressed in uniform and looking sharp, their demeanor differed sharply from the typical urban patrol squads. "Stop! Why are you coming from the south?" One of them scrutinized them for a moment. "Wait, are you...Witches?" The question startled Tilly. Though she had long known the town's public acknowledgment of Witches' existence, hearing ordinary people ask this question so calmly still stirred waves in her heart. "Yes, we are Witches." "So you want to join the Guild of Assistance," the guard chuckled. "Please wait here while I report to superiors." "Wait? No, this is—" "Alright, we'll wait here." Tilly cut Ash off. "By the way, may I ask what these people are busy with?" "Ah, they're repairing the dock. The heavy snowfall came too suddenly, throwing everything into disarray. I'm not entirely sure what specific tasks are underway." When the guards returned to their posts, Ash asked in confusion, "Why didn't you reveal your identity?" "Don't you find it curious? How would they accept a Witch from another city?" Tilly winked playfully.
Before long, a tall woman in a white dress approached—her golden long curls and flawless features. Even without seeing Magic Power, Tilly could sense the sharp aura emanating from her, like a blade freshly drawn from its scabbard.
There's no doubt this is a combat witch, and one of the most formidable types.
"I actually thought a new Witch was joining the Guild of Aid. Didn't you go back to Sleepy Island?" She glanced at the ashes first, then scanned the crowd. When her eyes fell on Tilly, she froze—suddenly, the sharpness vanished, replaced by a warmth as soothing as water.
"Hello, I'm Nightingale," she nodded in greeting. "You must be Tilly Wimbledon, the sister of Your Highness Roland, right?"