Novel & Cerita Overwatch Witch Mercy

Immediately, I broke the chains and set the angel free, watching him disappear into thin air, and then I turned to face Warrick. I slammed my eyes shut, and my brain turned, like an infected zombie that allowed the virus to take hold, “Welcome to the real you my daughter,” Warrick declared. A lycanthropic dragon was dragged out and thrown to my feet, “Kill her,” Warrick commanded. I looked at the young woman, she was weeping and pleading for Mercy, I squatted down before her, she was a Lycanthropic dragon, my family, those I swore to protect.

Crescent wolves rallied. For a moment, victory felt possible. But the enemy wasn’t finished. From the tree line opposite, a figure stepped forward—a woman cloaked in crimson, eyes glinting unnatural green. She raised both hands, and the air itself seemed to twist. Wolves screamed as their limbs locked, some collapsing mid-run. Mercenaries surged forward with mechanical precision, cutting down those immobilized. “The witch,” Evandra whispered, her stomach clenching, pointing toward her. “Balor—there.”

A bonfire crackled at the center, blue and white flames licking the sky. Around the fire stood seven witches—each cloaked, each radiating a different kind of power. Cold. Calm. Wrath. Grief. Hunger. Mercy. And the last… unreadable. Like a blank slate with invisible ink. The first witch stepped forward, the one who radiated grief. Her eyes were a soft violet, rimmed with silver veins that pulsed like rivers. “Daughter of Wolfsong,” she said. “You carry more than a child. You carry a storm.”

She nodded and took a step forward. “I assure you that we are not defenseless. I have made my promise to this land and protect all the life on it. I wouldn’t be so calm if not for our new Alpha female who has made the same promise to the land. Separate, we might be powerless, but I believe that with the help of the witches we have called over, we have a chance to help bury this dark energy. The Sentinels have been looking for areas of land that can hold this negative force, but it is us, Witches that will need to use our powers to trap it,” Meredith finished.

"It's your promise, Sevina... You must never break it." The words from the late Queen hovered in her head as Queen Sevina mused about her decisions. She had given her word to the previous King and Queen and it was a rule among the witches to always live up to their promise. If she did one thing that would betray them, she would lose her immortality and her freedom... she would be sent back to Mysticia and will no longer be given the chance to see the humans again. It was one thing she didn't want to ever happen, and that was why she took the risk and agreed to everything.

Regret for trusting the witch swarmed him in the pit of his stomach. The dark witches in the room sensed his anger but sadly he could not take it out on them. There were too many. So he settled his eyes on Mericel and hoped she could feel the glare of his hatred. If she did she did not show it for she continued with the same cool and collected voice. "Sadly I only have the honor of killing Zachary." Her dark eyes flashed wickedly as a swift image of her plunging the silver blade in Zachary's chest emerges into her head.

She began to address the Witches as she approached them. "Put your hands above your head, Mariana," Merit yelled out, pointing the Spear at the Scarred Witch. "And why would I do that?" Mariana asked, and stopped walking. "What crime have I committed against you that you must charge me with such hatred?" Her voice sounded soft and innocent, she would have succeeded in fooling any other clueless Witch, but not them. "You were meant to be dead," Bell stated, her orbs becoming bright orange as with Merits.

At its center, encircled by ancient ruins, the stone bier lay surrounded by thirteen witches, their silver robes glistening with dew. As Ryker and Nova dismounted, the head witch stepped forward. Her eyes were blind and milky. “You have come to witness a miracle, Alpha.” Ryker narrowed his eyes. “What kind of miracle?” She gestured to the bier. “The return of blood. Of legacy.” There, beneath a sheer veil of glowing silk, a figure lay still. Slender. Familiar. Her chest rose and fell in slow, unnatural rhythm. The witches began to chant.

Dark energy erupted from his palms and constricted the witch's neck. "Worth it?" His voice lowered, nearing the unhuman. "She is worth living in peace, not agony. And if you ever speak of it — if you ever even think about showing it to her again — I will make your heart stop beating before you can say her name." The witch gasped, her feet lifting off the ground by an inch. Darkness enveloping her tightened like a snake. Seraya, who was watching from the future, felt her knees weaken. Her hands covered her mouth as unspoken tears rolled down her cheeks.