The Cornflower Witch

Book 3: Chapter 64: The Awakened Black Griffin

The passage was dark, barely wide enough for him to squeeze through; when running he had to duck his head, and the edges still scraped his body, tearing at his wounds and bringing waves of pain.

Fire Pig hadn’t felt like a wolf in a long time. During the endless running he grew somewhat dazed, memories of his past self surfacing.

Back then he was thin, curled up inside cargo crates, arriving in this bustling Asra District.

Begging, rummaging through trash, getting beaten, doing chores, being cheated, receiving scorn—so many things, even looking back now, carried a bitter sadness. He had never received a scrap of kindness or comfort. Other beastmen who came in like him at least had somewhere to go, someone willing to give a little guidance.

Maybe it was because he was too ugly.

Long ago his illusions were shattered, and only one obsession remained: to eat a proper meal and find a place where he could sleep without worry.

He had already managed the first, and half-achieved the second. As a headman, few dared offend or attack him.

Yet safety still eluded him. He preferred living underground, where he had fellow guards posted, thick soil and stone walls, and tunnels leading everywhere.

So hungry...

As he kept running using the Breathing Technique, his stamina gradually drained, and the wounds all over his body sapped his strength.His stomach rumbled and that gnawing hunger reawakened the long-dormant fear in his mind.

He felt himself slowing down.

The tunnel ahead grew narrower and narrower. His fat bulk became harder to squeeze through, and the countless wounds beneath him tingled and itched like ants biting.

Once again, he fell to the ground. The metallic smell of earth filled his mouth; his long fangs sank into the ground, and the recoil jolted his head, bringing him a touch of clarity.

I can stop here, I can stay.

Supporting his head with weak effort, he looked at the still-not-very-large opening, picked up his axe, aimed at his right arm, and brought it down hard.

Pale flesh and blood rolled back, exposing the snapped thick bone within. The pain that shot through him chilled his spine and nearly made him lose his footing.

Trembling like a sieve, he propped himself against the wall and staggered backward into the inner caverns, stumbling onward.

When Sylutia reached this place, she saw the severed arm in the underground rock still giving off waves of cold and the metallic stench of blood.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She sighed, then continued the pursuit.

Passing through tunnels that had once been dug, running in the dim whiteness, Fire Pig finally saw a patch of light ahead—the glow of flames. Although the light was dim beyond the white gloom, the Griffin emblem was striking, illuminating the pale eyes in his flesh.

Almost there, this was where I hid my treasures. I hid the things I loathed here, letting the most loyal, obedient pig-kind guard them.

Yes, these pig-people were dumb, but they were the few who would stay loyal to Fire Pig.

He stumbled into the tiny cavern. Small braziers burned there, lighting everything up, but the scene beyond froze him in his tracks.

The floor was littered with dead pig-person guards; many had their throats cut, some even dismembered and hung up like butchered meat.

The treasure cavern that used to be hidden had been opened; light chests filled with gold coins were being carried away by familiar enemies. Scattered coins lay on the ground, and the small sealed door to the vault he cared about had been blown open by a known method, revealing the rare treasures inside.

A thin, low figure sat on the narrow seat behind the round table in the small hall—this ought to have been Fire Pig’s spot.

“Oh, is that your Fire Pig little fellow?” Four Fingers spun a golden crown in his hand. From its look, it should be one Fire Pig had collected.

“Why does he look so mangy?” The moment he said that, mocking laughter erupted around him.

Fire Pig tried to speak, his gaze shifting toward the only interior road leading deeper. Unfortunately that exit was blocked by enemies; ten squat beastmen in full heavy armor stood guard there.

He roared, the sound wave scattering enemies along the way, and charged toward the only exit.

At that moment, Four Fingers waved his arm and his men pulled out crossbows, aiming at the huge crimson pigman inside the cavern. Fingers pressed triggers, faces full of smug ridicule.

Then the bowstrings twanged.

When Sylutia returned to the cavern hall, what she saw was Fire Pig’s broken body pinned to the ground, riddled with arrows and motionless. One of his eyes had been pierced through by an arrow, the other buried in the earth, seeing nothing.

Seeing the girl arrive, Four Fingers jumped down from the corpse and approached her.

“Miss Hedra, thank you for punishing the criminals of the Asra District. The treasures here also include a share for you. Please come with me.”

Sylutia remained unmoved by these words. She shook her head slightly.

“I want to learn from Fire Pig where my friend Anari went, and where the missing Dragon Eye treasure is.”

“This?” Four Fingers rubbed his head and looked back at the nearly dead Fire Pig.

“We’ll help you continue looking for your friend’s whereabouts, how about that?”

Sylutia shook her head again and pointed at the motionless body.

“Isn’t he still breathing? Make him stand and tell me.”

“Well...” Four Fingers frowned.

“Fire Pig is already almost dead. Rescuing him is troublesome, and besides, we have no effective healing means.” He did not want Fire Pig to live. If Fire Pig survived, he would be a constant threat—having only one underground headman in Asra District would suit him fine.

“I’ll say it again: make him stand and tell me.” The girl’s voice was calm but unusually clear in the cavern.

Seeing no sign of respect for their leader, Huang-Eyed Mongoose—one of Four Fingers’ men—leapt forward and raised his palm to slap this ungrateful wretch.

With a sharp smack, the palm was sliced by invisible threads and dropped to the ground. Blood from the wound mixed with dust, becoming a few rolling black dots.

At this sight Four Fingers’ men changed expression, raising their weapons. Many hoisted crossbows, aiming at the girl in the center of the hall.

The cavern fell momentarily silent, broken only by Huang-Eyed Mongoose clutching his severed wrist and rolling on the ground in pain, crying out.

“Boss, kill her. Don’t split any treasure with her!” he snarled through clenched teeth.

Four Fingers fixed his gaze on the girl but did not order an attack immediately.

“Miss Hedra, we bear you no deep hatred. Why use such heavy-handed measures?”

“No hatred, but I never intended for all these pig-people to be slaughtered.” She had already seen the sleeping guards now killed—some decapitated and dismembered.

Though she hadn’t done the killing herself, what difference did that make? She hated being used.

Hearing this, Four Fingers finally understood why the girl was so stubborn.

“My fault. Though they are lowly pig-people, they were your prey. We overstepped.” He thought for a moment and decided to let the conflict cool.

He raised a hand, signaling his men to lower their weapons.

“I’ll have half the stored gold here given to you. How about that?”

To him this was generous. He had many men, and the girl opposite was only one person. Even if Sylutia was talented, she was still only an apprentice; turning talent into reward would take years.

Sylutia shook her head and said nothing. Her gaze swept the scene, counting Four Fingers’ men.

Two hundred and fifty-one in total, of whom 128 were First Tier, 31 Second Tier, and 4 Third Tier—enough to found a miniature state in a remote region. No wonder he was so confident.

“Mr. Four Fingers, don’t you understand what I’ve been asking? Find the missing beastgirl Anari, and the lost treasure, and restore her name.” He had been talking about money the whole time, but she had never requested wealth.

There really were people who didn’t care about coins?

Four Fingers felt annoyed. Frankly, he thought he had shown sufficient respect given his status and current strength, but she kept clinging to one issue and wouldn’t let him save face.

“Miss Hedra, you’re a bright student now. You should know sometimes the price paid and the returns are far from proportional.”

“Now is not the time to act recklessly. If I mobilize my men to help you search openly, the Mage Alliance officials upstairs won’t be happy. Besides, this matter doesn’t concern you much; why drag yourself into it? If the authorities get an ugly impression, your future could be greatly affected.” Four Fingers prepared to sway her with reason and emotion, trying to convince her to give up.

“Do I need to say this a third time? That Fire Pig on the ground still has breath. Make him get up and tell me.” When she finished speaking, Four Fingers’ face darkened.

He had heard Hedra’s demand before, but this was one point he could not compromise. If Fire Pig lived, he would seek revenge and his loyal guards were strong and fanatical. Even if they launched a simple attack and the authorities later intervened, Four Fingers would lose much of his vigor.

Moreover, if Fire Pig escaped and reported the treasure hoard, the officials would force Four Fingers to surrender most of it.

Fire Pig must die here. He gave a look to a trusted man behind him; the man understood, picked up his great axe and aimed at Fire Pig’s neck with a heavy chop.

But instead of the anticipated sound of bone and flesh breaking, several invisible threads bound the axe, halting its momentum at the neck and only leaving a white scrape on the thick hide.

“Why?” Four Fingers’ expression became grave. The cavern’s atmosphere grew tense and oppressive. Crossbows once again pointed at the girl.

She shook her head; she would not explain further.

Her slender finger pressed against her chest. At the center of the collar of her black dress, a golden badge embossed with a black griffin sat beneath her fingertip, emitting a faint glow.

It was the Griffin family crest, one of the gifts she had received from Master Nox when she left Meteorite Lake; it had been placed in the box handed to her along with several esoteric secret arts tomes, usable only at Fourth Tier and above.

To be honest, she was unfamiliar with griffins beyond their image and general abilities. She had seen griffin-like mechanical constructs in the Mage Alliance.

But Nox, as a master of the Bionics School, truly understood the habits of such fantastical creatures and the innate rune pathways they naturally possessed.

As her finger touched the badge, an invisible wave of qi spread from Sylutia’s side like a storm sweeping the underground cavern. To the astonishment of everyone present, black feathers flew in the gale, and a huge form slowly materialized behind Sylutia.

It was a massive black griffin. Its eagle-like eyes were razor sharp; beneath feathered wings its muscular body and razor talons gleamed.

Just being stared at by this powerful beast made many people’s legs tremble. The broad black wings beat slowly, sending invisible currents throughout the cavern and producing howling gusts.

Four Fingers knew then there was no easy way out.

Surrender? Hand over Fire Pig and all the treasure? If he missed this chance, he might never have another to kill his rival. Besides, the treasures here probably couldn’t be kept either—he’d have to hand them all over.

All his efforts wasted, only to survive under the griffin’s shadow.

The choice didn’t seem that hard to him; he quietly suppressed his emotions and prepared to order his men to step back and give up.

Unfortunately, not everyone shared his calm reason.

A stealthy elite crept behind Sylutia. Focusing on the black-haired girl’s back, he lunged with a dagger in a cold, sharp arc.

To him, the griffin was a mere illusion summoned by the girl; if she died, the artifact would lose its activator and fade away.

The theory and intention were not wrong—the only misjudgment was likely underestimating her power.

The wicked blade sliced across the back of the girl’s neck, but there was no resistance of flesh and blood; it cut through air as if striking nothing, then the attacker’s figure collapsed into scattered silver flakes.

At that moment, another identical figure stepped from behind the griffin and faced the stunned thief-assassin.

The griffin’s talons struck down hard. After three bloody slash marks, the attacker’s body was tossed aside, his dagger clattering and bouncing off the wall until it landed in the hall’s open floor.

Seeing the unscathed black-haired girl, Four Fingers felt a chill. This was the first time he had seen such abilities on a Second Tier apprentice. He was cautious by nature and wanted to call a halt to this conflict, but the scene had already spun out of control.

Like a signal, the assassin’s strike prompted the others to assume it was Four Fingers’ cue. After all, there was just one opponent; surrendering and giving up today’s loot seemed absurd when they were all waiting to divide spoils.

Since someone had made a preemptive move, why hold back? Even if the griffin was powerful, if they killed that Second Tier student, everything would be solved.

Tension, greed, fear, and urgency mingled together, and the men reacted instinctively. Bowstrings twanged in a dense volley as sharp arrows pierced the air, striking the rock beside Sylutia and some even hitting the griffin, embedding in its black feathers.

“Kill her!” someone shouted crazily.

Overwhelmed by their emotions, they no longer heard Four Fingers calling from behind. Grabbing their weapons, they aimed at the constantly dodging girl with a single thought in their minds:

Kill her fast, then today’s treasures and gold are ours.

“Quick! Quick! Quick!”

Huang-Eyed Mongoose, his wrist already cut, urged them on without mercy. He wouldn’t stop, even if Four Fingers ordered it.

Arrows kept flying at the griffin, forcing it to flap its wings and scatter the volleys. Seizing the gaps, a group of heavy-armored beastmen charged into the wind to encircle the girl and tear her apart. Several assassins ran like beasts along the rock walls, flanking to avoid the griffin’s protective radius.

Seeing this change, Sylutia first darted along the stone wall to evade, then leapt. Several silver Flying Birds shot out and knocked incoming arrows aside, and she landed on the griffin’s back. Just when everyone thought she would hide there, her descent did not slow.

Her form plunged into the griffin as if merging with it. The previously mechanical, stiff griffin suddenly moved with fluidity, like a machine that had just acquired a skilled pilot.

Its broad black wings beat with fierce force, invisible gusts once more sweeping away nearby enemies and flinging many of them through the air; a sharp, piercing cry came from it.

Powerful sound waves echoed throughout the underground cavern, shattering many things; some weaker foes bled from nose and ears, collapsing into unconsciousness.

The black griffin rose and beat its wings, then dove with thunderous force. Heavy-armored beastmen were ripped apart by its lightning-fast talons; the crossbowmen were swept by the gale and thrown down.

Back and forth a few times, Four Fingers’ men fell one by one, dead or badly wounded. Many of the removed chests and treasures were buried again by collapsing soil.

At this point no one in the cavern could mount resistance. Four Fingers clutched his huge bloody chest wound and half-kneeling on the ground, watched the griffin descend again and could no longer suppress his fear; he flopped to the ground.

“Please, spare us. We’ll do anything,” he begged.

The black griffin hovered in midair, its sharp gaze sweeping the scene. Once it confirmed there was no more resistance, it slowly landed and a pair of black-booted legs appeared again before Four Fingers.

He cautiously raised his eyes to look at the boots not far in front of him, then quickly bowed his head and answered.

“I—I have a precious healing potion reserved for myself. I can give it to Fire Pig so he can temporarily recover and help you find the answers.” Saying this, he carefully took out a blood-stained vial from his bosom—one originally kept as his own emergency cure.

“Go.”

Her voice remained as calm as when they first met, as if she had never been angry.