There was an utter shock on their faces.

“Sins!!” they all gasped in unison, the word tasting like ash in their mouths.

It had been years—perhaps decades—since they had heard of the word.

In their earliest days of training, when they were still novices clad in plain robes and trembling under the gaze of their masters, they had been told of the Seven Sins—the dark-born apostles of the Daemon God.

Each of them is an embodiment of a primal corruption, each of them said to command legions of horrors far worse than any mortal nightmare.

They remembered the warnings well: “If the Sins awaken, the age of mortals ends.”

Back then, the elders had spoken of them like phantoms—ancient beings who might never return, locked in slumber beyond the reach of the living. Some had even dared to think the stories were exaggerated, a way to keep initiates obedient.

But now… now they seem to have awakened.

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush the breath from their lungs.

The wind picked up outside, causing the tent walls to flutter and the hanging braziers to sway on their chains.

The light shifted and danced across their faces, casting shadows that seemed to writhe with a life of their own.

Three of them stared at the map, but the look in their eyes told that they were lost in deep thought.

They were told that sooner or later they would have to face the greater enemies, and it seems like the time has come.

“The Council has deliberated,” Anita continued, producing a scroll sealed with crimson wax.

“You three have been selected not merely for your individual skills, but for the potential that exists when you act in concert. The prophecies speak of the trinity of champions who will either turn back the darkness or die in the attempt.”

She looked at all three of them, telling them it was time to turn the war in their favour.

She broke the seal and unrolled the parchment, revealing text written in the flowing script used for the most important of the Council’s decrees. “Your mission is threefold: first, you must penetrate the demon lines and determine the true scope of their forces. Second, you must locate and eliminate the source of their coordination—whether that be a summoner, a bound greater demon, or some other focal point. Third, and most crucial, you must discover what they seek in these lands and prevent them from obtaining it.”

The silence that followed was heavy with implication.

Each of the three understood that this was no ordinary military campaign they were being asked to undertake.

***

The morning sun cast long shadows across the terraced gardens of Hanompetra East Hill, its golden rays dancing through the crystalline windows of the estate of the Illumariti Coven.

The estate solely belonged to the coven and was used for training purposes. Each coven had its own base in the city.

Ladraella Covenant stood at the top of the witch covens, and it was the strongest of them all right now. The coven produced many potential witches, and all of them are now holding influential positions all over the empire.

Right after learning the truth, Rena had completely lost herself and closed herself in her room in the villa. All of them tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t bear the loss of Jaenor.

It was too much for her.

After a week, she came out and asked Morgana to train her and make her a witch like her.

Morgana then sent her to the Illumariti Coven with a letter of recommendation from her.

Ever since then, she has been practising vigorously in the coven under their care.

Rena Meervan stood at the edge of the practice circle, her auburn hair now adorned with the silver threads that marked her ascension to Originmarked status—a feat achieved by fewer than one in a thousand witches, and never before by one so young.

Usually, witches start from Acolyte to expert level, and beyond that, they are ranked based on their Origin power. Those ranks are called Originmarked, Originshaped, and Originbound.

These are the three ranks that define the level of control you have on the Origin power and how the Origin would change you.

Her five-star talent was the very foundation of her meteoric rise.

In the vast expanse of the known realms, talents exceeding three stars were already considered exceptional—rare jewels among the countless stones.

Those blessed with five were rarer still, spoken of in hushed tones in academies and royal courts, their names destined to be carved into history.

But beyond that lay the true miracles—children born with six or even seven stars.

Such beings appeared once in a generation, if at all. The old crones claimed they were touched by the raw essence of creation itself, destined not merely to change the world but to bend it to their will.

A witch of such magnitude could command storms with a whisper, split mountains with a gesture, and command armies with the flick of her gaze.

It was said that if one walked the lands, the balance of power between kingdoms, empires, and covens would shatter.

Six months had transformed the frightened girl who fled the forest incident into something altogether more formidable.

The five-star talent that had once been merely potential now blazed within her like a controlled inferno, cultivated through rigorous training under the watchful eye of Dahila, the Coven’s most respected battle-mistress.

“Again,” Dahila commanded from across the courtyard, her voice carrying the authority of three decades spent mastering the elemental arts. “But this time, remember you are not merely casting Origin Power. You are becoming it.”

Her gaze was unblinking, piercing through him like a blade through still water. “Every breath you take, every heartbeat, every thought—let it not be yours alone. Let it be the Origin’s. When you strike, it should not be a woman they see before them. It should be the will of the cosmos itself, passing through your flesh.”

Rena closed her eyes, feeling the familiar tingle of power coursing through her meridians.

The bond she had forged with elemental forces was unlike anything the other initiates possessed.

Where they drew upon external sources, she had learned to merge her very essence with the primal forces of creation.

It was this unique ability that had earned her the Originmark.

She raised her hands, fingers weaving through the complex somatic patterns Dahila had drilled into her memory. The air around her began to shimmer as she called upon the Fourfold Integration—a technique that should have been beyond any witch save those of the Inner Circle.

“Aer’thalhan nala vespear,” she whispered, the ancient words of binding rolling off her tongue with practised ease. The air itself responded, gathering into visible currents that spiralled around her form. But she was far from finished.

Fire came next, not the crude flames that lesser mages summoned, but the pure essence of combustion itself. It merged with the air currents, creating ribbons of superheated plasma that danced like liquid light. The ground followed—not mere stone and soil, but the fundamental force of stability and endurance. The ground beneath her feet cracked as she drew power from the very bedrock of Hanompetra Hill.

Finally, water—but not as others knew it. She called upon the water within all living things, the primal medium that connected every form of life. The moisture in the air condensed into perfect spheres that orbited her like miniature planets, each one containing enough compressed force to shatter steel.

The four elements swirled around her in perfect harmony, a display of power that would have impressed even the Archwitches of the Inner Circle.

But Rena was no longer content with mere displays.

“Ultharhan mor’duen kela’thessac!” The words tore from her throat with such force that they seemed to reshape reality itself.

The Elemental Maelstrom erupted from her position, a controlled hurricane of destruction that consumed everything within a twenty-foot radius.

Stone targets exploded into powder, practice dummies were reduced to ash, and the very air crackled with residual energy.

When the display finally ended, Rena stood at the centre of a perfect circle of devastation, unmarked and serene.

“Impressive,” Dahila said, though her tone carried a note of concern. “But remember, child—power without wisdom is the path to darkness.”

Rena nodded, though her eyes burned with barely contained ambition.

The other women of the Illumariti had welcomed her, yes, but she could see the fear behind their acceptance.

They knew, as she did, that she was destined for something far greater than the quiet life of a Coven witch.

In the entire Coven, no one matched her level of talent. Such a remarkable 5-star talent is rare, which is why she was able to join the Coven so easily despite her commoner background. The social class of individuals heavily influences interactions in these circles; without exceptional talent, gaining entry into the Coven is difficult. Most of the witches are from noble families, emphasizing the prestige and exclusivity of the group.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep