The sunset in the ruins always carries a scent like rust, but in the eyes of Tunzuo over the past few months, it has become the most reassuring color in the world.
“Phew… it is finally… over…”
Tunzuo collapsed on the ground without a shred of dignity, her limbs splayed out like a starfish.
The witch looked like a piece of rice cake that had been left out in the sun for far too long.
Her originally pale cheeks were now flushed with an unnatural crimson from mana exhaustion, and the two specks of soul fire in her deep green pupils were as dim as a candle in the wind, ready to snuff out at any moment.
Just a moment ago, under the guidance of Antuoxi Otilis and her hellish, spartan training, the very last mana circuit within Tunzuo’s body had finally closed its loop.
That strange, itchy sensation vanished, replaced by a feeling of fullness that flooded her entire body.
The pale silver lines that previously danced across her skin slowly receded deep into her flesh as if breathing, leaving behind only a faint, shimmering glimmer, like stars falling into the deep sea.
“Does this mean… I am an adult now?”
Tunzuo lifted her hand with great effort and stared at her palm.
She could feel that the mana within her no longer coursed violently as it had before; instead, it flowed slowly and orderly along those precise circuits like blood.
Every cycle of mana brought with it a sense of comfort that made her soul tremble.
“My, my. Although the process was a bit unsightly and the crying and screaming were a bit noisy, you have finally started to look like the real deal.”
Antuoxi sat elegantly atop a hovering boulder, swirling a glass of red wine that had appeared from nowhere.
She scrutinized her “work” from on high.
The playfulness in her eyes had diminished slightly, replaced by the satisfaction of seeing a fine piece of art brought to life.
“You now barely qualify as a capable vessel.”
“A vessel… Mommy, you make me sad when you talk about your daughter like that…”
Tunzuo complained weakly.
The exhaustion in her body was so great that she had lost even the desire to argue.
She rolled over and buried her face into her own shadow, trying to draw out a bit of the shadow’s chill to cool off.
“Mommy, since I am ‘grown up’ now, does that mean I can sleep for three days and three nights?”
Tunzuo mumbled her unrealistic delusions face-down.
“In your dreams.”
Antuoxi shattered Tunzuo’s fantasy without mercy.
She took a light sip of wine, a playful smirk curving her lips.
“You just learned to walk and you already want to lie flat? Is your ambition really so small, my silly daughter?”
“My ambition is just to lie in bed and not move at all…”
Tunzuo rolled her eyes in her mind, but her body’s instincts prevented her from saying those words aloud.
After all, she still had vivid memories of Antuoxi’s hand, which was always ready for some “physical correction.”
“However, since the mana circuits have formed, there are indeed some basic common facts about our witch race that you should understand.”
Antuoxi snapped her fingers, and the hovering boulder slowly descended.
She stood up, her gothic dress fluttering in the evening wind.
“Come over and sit down. This is your first theory lesson as a witch.”
Although Tunzuo was ten thousand times unwilling, recalling the “cake and slap” policy, she obediently used her shadow to condense a chair.
She sat down honestly in front of Antuoxi, putting on the appearance of a good student ready to listen.
Antuoxi nodded in satisfaction.
She waved her hand, and the surrounding scenery of the ruins instantly blurred.
Countless brilliant starlights emerged in the void, as if the model of the entire universe had been transported right in front of Tunzuo.
“Tunzuo, tell me, what do you think we are?”
“Uh… witches?”
Tunzuo answered tentatively.
“Correct, witches.”
Antuoxi’s originally playful voice became solemn and grand, echoing amidst the specks of starlight.
“In the eyes of tiny ants and dust, we are monsters, we are heretics, we are calamities. They fear us, they worship us, yet they delusionaly attempt to destroy us.”
Antuoxi turned around, her eyes—which had traversed the ages and gathered the entire starry sky—fixed firmly on Tunzuo.
“Witches view the beliefs and struggles of ants and dust as nothing more than mist. My daughter, you must remember: we are the cosmic natural disasters, the supreme zenith located at the very end of the evolution of all intelligent races.”
“The zenith?”
“The zenith.”
Antuoxi extended a finger, and a dazzling blue flame condensed at her fingertip.
The flame had no temperature, yet it emitted a heart-wrenching aura of destruction.
“Humans will age, elves will rot, angels will fall, demons will wither, and dragons will sleep. Only witches—as long as mana still flows in the universe—are ageless, deathless, and indestructible. Our souls are sufficient to contain the truths of the universe, and our bodies fear not the wear and tear of the passing years. We are born to plunder, to conquer, to stand above all things. We are tyrannical and bloodthirsty, we do as we please, and our desires rise above everything else.”
Tunzuo was intimidated by Antuoxi, but her mind wandered off.
Ageless and deathless?
It sounded great, but wouldn’t that mean she would have to work forever and never have a retirement day?
“But Mommy, since witches are so powerful, why do we still have to take exams?”
Tunzuo remembered that during class, Antuoxi had mentioned information regarding the Witch Council and the ranking of witch tiers.
“Oh? I didn’t expect you to remember something I mentioned in passing.”
The starlight in Antuoxi’s eyes dissipated, and she changed back into that mischievous and dangerous mother.
“Although the witch race has achieved considerable development through years of warfare and plundering, the quality of newborn witches is uneven. To ensure the continuation and evolution of the race, the Witch Council established a strict hierarchical system.”
As Antuoxi spoke, six badges emitting different lights appeared in the void, arranged according to their rank like a ladder reaching the heavens.
“Remember them well. These are the tiers every witch must engrave deep within her soul.”
Antuoxi waved her wand toward the gray badge at the very bottom and began to explain the witch tiers to Tunzuo one by one.
“First tier, Novice Witch. This is a witch who has just awakened her mana circuits and has not yet received formal education. That is your current state—you have barely managed to leave the category of ‘wild monster’.”
“Second tier, Common Witch. This is the tier where most witches will stay for their entire lives. They master basic spells, are capable of independent survival, and are the backbone of witch society.”
“Third tier, Upper Witch. Only those who show outstanding talent in a certain field and pass the council examination can be promoted. They are usually the managers of a faction or tutors at an academy.”
Tunzuo silently took notes in her mind.
It sounded like the difference between staff, supervisors, and managers in a company.
“Fourth tier, Great Witch. Every witch who reaches this tier is a strategic asset. They can utilize spells to trigger natural disasters to destroy an entire planet or cast curses to hex an entire race. They are the backbone of witch warfare.”
“Fifth tier, Apex Witch.”
Antuoxi’s voice rose slightly as she pointed to the badge emitting golden light.
“This is the true powerhouse. An Apex Witch can traverse the sea of stars with her physical body. The laws of the universe no longer bind them; instead, they become tools in the hands of the Apex Witch. To become an Apex Witch, having massive mana is not enough. You must reach the pinnacle in at least one of the nine great spell schools of the witches. At the same time, you must pass the rigorous review of the Witch Council and publish numerous high-standard academic papers, making outstanding contributions to the knowledge base of the entire witch race.”
“Nine great spell schools?”
“Elemental, Alchemy, Necromancy, Illusion, Spacetime, Summoning, Transmutation, Divination, and War Art.”
Antuoxi rattled off the names of the nine spell schools as if she were counting her own treasures.
“Witch society is a society that highly values knowledge and power. Your status does not depend on how noble your bloodline is, but on how much new ‘truth’ you bring to the witch race. Only those witches who can drive the progress of witch civilization are qualified to be called ‘Apex’.”
“Then… what about the last one?”
Tunzuo pointed to the magnificent badge at the very top, which radiated seven-colored light and seemed almost to tear the void apart.
“Legendary Witch.”
Upon mentioning this term, Antuoxi’s originally flippant demeanor instantly became as deep as the abyssal sea, and an aura of supreme arrogance and pride took hold.
“That is a legendary existence, a living epic, a truth walking upon the earth. A Legendary Witch no longer limits her vision to driving the laws of the universe, but begins to remodel them. The laws of the universe change because of them, and the rules of the world move according to the Legendary Witch’s whim. Since the development of the witch race, those who can be called ‘Legendary’ are few and far between.”
“Just how many are there?”
“Out of billions of witches, there are only a few dozen.”
Antuoxi curled her lips into a wild, arrogant arc.
She raised her arms high as if holding the entire universe in her embrace.
“And I, the supreme Antuoxi Otilis, am the pinnacle of those few dozen legends!”
Tunzuo widened her eyes.
Although she had long known that this cheap mother of hers was strong, she hadn’t expected her to be this strong.
“A Legendary Witch is not only a symbol of power, but also a creator of rules.”
Antuoxi closed her eyes in intoxication, savoring her glorious years and supreme honor.
“I spent only 200 years rising from a Novice Witch to a Legend. I rewrote the three fundamental laws of Elemental Construction, I discovered the thirteenth connection point between the Abyss and the mundane world, and the few alchemy formulas I scribbled down are still regarded as scripture by alchemy witches!”
“200 years…”
Tunzuo calculated it in her mind.
For a long-lived race, 200 years might not be long, but to fight her way from the bottom to the summit? This was simply the protagonist template of an overpowered power-fantasy novel.
“Aren’t you awestruck by your great mother?”
Antuoxi leaned in toward Tunzuo, her beautiful face begging for praise, compliments, and flattery.
“…Yes, yes, Mommy is the best. Mommy is the strongest in the universe, Mommy is invincible.”
Tunzuo skillfully enabled her brown-nosing mode.
She understood now: Antuoxi was just a patient suffering from late-stage middle-school syndrome who possessed invincible power.
As long as she went along with it, she could save herself a few beatings.
“Hmph, you have an eye for talent.”
Antuoxi sat back on the boulder contentedly and continued.
“Therefore, Tunzuo, your goal cannot just be sleeping. As the daughter of me, the supreme Witch Antuoxi Otilis, your destination should be that position.”
Antuoxi pointed to the badge representing “Legendary.”
“Of course, I know you are lazy and useless, a good-for-nothing salted fish. But since you have inherited the title of ‘Shadow of the End,’ I will not allow you to live like a rat in a sewer.”
“But Mommy, all that thesis and academic research stuff sounds like a headache…”
Tunzuo’s face looked miserable.
If it meant fighting, she might be able to rely on instinct to get by, but making her write a thesis? That would be worse than killing her.
“That is a matter for the future.”
Antuoxi waved her hand dismissively.
“You can’t even control your mana yet, so why talk about academics? When you can actually do something flashy with that clumsy shadow of yours, come talk to me about not wanting to write a thesis.”
At this, Antuoxi suddenly changed the subject, her eyes becoming somewhat meaningful.
“However, you must remember: although witch society protects every witch externally, internal conflicts are extremely fierce, especially in academic-faction families like ours, where the fighting is even more brutal.”
“Family fighting?”
Tunzuo felt uneasy hearing that term.
If she could avoid it, she really didn’t want to get involved in that kind of business.
“Exactly.”
A cold, sharp light flashed in Antuoxi’s eyes.
“The Witch Council maintains the appearance of order, but the undercurrents in private have never stopped. Those families with ancient bloodlines and spell heritages will use any means necessary to compete for resources and succession rights. Assassination, poison, curses… these are all daily occurrences.”
“That sounds dangerous…”
Tunzuo shrank her neck in fear.
“That is why you must become strong.”
Antuoxi stood up and walked behind Tunzuo, her hands gripping her smooth, delicate neck.
Her voice was low and filled with temptation.
“Only by standing at the summit do you have the qualifications to talk about leisure. Only when you are truly strong enough that no one dares to provoke you can you fall into a slumber without worry, never needing to fear that someone will flip your bed in the middle of the night.”
Tunzuo fell into deep silence.
She had originally thought that Antuoxi teaching her magic was just for fun, to satisfy the control freak nature of an eccentric mother.
But now it seemed that this seemingly crazy Legendary Witch was using her own way to pave the road for the daughter she had “picked up.”
“Of course, if you really don’t want to put in the effort, there is another way.”
Antuoxi suddenly released her hands, and her tone became lighthearted.
“Find a powerful witch to marry, marry into her family, and be an obedient, pretty pet. You can also receive protection that way~.”
“…I think I will work hard to become strong.”
Tunzuo refused the suggestion without hesitation.
It was a joke; make her go wait on someone else?
That would be worse than death.
Since she had to put in the effort anyway, she might as well fight for the sake of her own nap time.
“Hehe, that’s my daughter.”
Antuoxi laughed heartily, appearing very satisfied with the answer.
“Alright, that is enough theory for today. Since your mana circuits are perfected, tomorrow’s lesson shall be upgraded.”
“Upgraded? What kind of upgrade?”
Tunzuo suddenly had a bad premonition.
“Combat practice.”
Antuoxi smiled sweetly, and a teaching whip appeared in her hand from nowhere.
“Starting tomorrow, I will summon all kinds of magical beasts to ‘play’ with you. If you cannot persist for ten minutes under their attacks, it means your mana circuits are not yet solid enough and need to be ‘reinforced’ once more.”
“Have mercy, Mommy!”
“Don’t worry, even if you are torn to shreds, I will heal you~.”
Antuoxi blinked, revealing a devilish smile.
“Besides, at most you will just break a few bones and lose a few chunks of meat. For a witch with the potential for immortality, that’s just a little scrape; sleep it off, and you’ll be fine.”
Tunzuo looked at Antuoxi’s beautiful yet cruel face, a sense of deep helplessness rising in her heart.
This wasn’t a biological mother; this was clearly a wicked stepmother! No, even a stepmother wouldn’t be this ruthless!
“Alright, go to sleep.”
Antuoxi seemed to have had enough fun.
She waved her hand, and the surrounding starlight dissipated.
The ruins returned to darkness.
“Rest up. Tomorrow will be very ‘interesting’~.”
Tunzuo felt as if she had received a reprieve and scrambled into her own shadow.
“Good night, Mommy! See you never tomorrow!”
Watching Tunzuo’s fleeing back, the smile on Antuoxi’s face slowly faded.
She looked up at the deep night sky, and within those eyes that could see through everything, the birth and death of countless stars were reflected.
“Shadow of the End…”
Antuoxi murmured this name, which was actually a taboo for her.
“Hmph! I want to see just what level the things you left behind can eventually reach…”
The wind blew through the ruins, carrying away that whisper.
Thanks for the chapter!