“Hey, are you okay?” Yilu asked Lyr.
She held the sword she had just picked up in one hand, and with the other, she tried to pull Lyr up, only to find he was much heavier than she’d imagined.
Lyr shook his head, his consciousness scattered, a sharp pain radiating from his chest.
“Why are you here?”
There was no time for thanks, but her being here wasn’t a good thing.
“What do you mean, ‘why am I here’? You’re the one who ran off with my sword without a second thought. How dare you ask me that?”
In all her years, Yilu had never met someone so brazen as to steal from her right in front of her face.
At the Academy, everyone avoided her. Lyr was the first person who dared to take her things.
“That’s not important right now,” Lyr said, struggling to stand with Yilu’s help. “The one in front of us is dangerous.”
Yilu turned to look at the faceless figure and curled her lip. “I can see that.”
That bizarre magic formula was something she had never seen before either.
“How touching,” the figure sneered, addressing Yilu. “Are you sure you want to help him? You’ll regret it.”
Her words implied more than just the current situation.
The Witch’s Curse destined those who gained power to be seen as monsters in the eyes of ordinary people.
Once unable to resist the curse, anyone close to them, or anyone who tried to help them, would ultimately be indiscriminately slaughtered.
Those who gained a Witch’s power were destined for loneliness.
Yilu snorted. “There are plenty of things I could regret. But this guy owes me something, so if he dies here, I know I’d be at a loss.”
She wasn’t sure if she was swayed by soft words, but she absolutely refused to be intimidated.
The more someone didn’t want her to do something, the more determined she was to do it.
“Fine. I’ll grant your wish.”
The figure raised her hand high, like a queen issuing a decree.
Instantly, crimson magic arrays materialized in the surrounding space, encircling Lyr and Yilu, forming a killing formation.
“Such magic exists…” Yilu’s eyes widened.
To sustain so many magic arrays required immense magical power, far beyond her understanding.
“Run!” Lyr shouted at Yilu.
For some reason, as these magic arrays appeared, a force began to churn violently within Lyr’s body.
It was like a beast, bound by chains, thrashing in a mad struggle.
He instinctively crouched down, clutching his chest, as wisps of eerie black energy began to seep from his body.
“A Witch’s power will naturally stir the power of another Witch, and it can also drive the intensity of the curse to its peak. Even if you are special, the suppression you maintained has just been breached by me. You can’t hold it back now,” the figure laughed.
This was how it should be.
They were both recipients of power. Why should this guy be able to suppress the curse?
Those who gained a Witch’s power should be like this—twisted by an endless curse until everything before them turns to blood and ruin.
The suffering she endured, he should suffer too. That was only fair!
Seeing Lyr in such agony, Yilu was momentarily at a loss.
In the blink of an eye, blood spears and thorns shot from the magic arrays.
With no room to retreat, Yilu could only use her sword to block the incoming attacks.
In mere moments, she was reduced to a sorry state.
The figure merely stood in place, watching the scene with keen interest.
Those desperate defenses, in her eyes, were like puppets dancing to her tune, everything under her control.
She wanted to kill this girl in front of Lyr, to see him twist and break under the curse as his mind shattered.
But just as a blood spear locked onto Yilu’s neck, poised for a fatal strike, the figure’s peripheral vision caught the gemstone at her throat.
Her pupils constricted. With a flick of her finger, all attacks came to an abrupt halt.
The blood spear stopped mere inches from Yilu’s neck.
Yilu was already drenched in sweat, her clothes torn, wounds covering her arms and legs, blood flowing freely.
Yet she still glared fiercely at the figure before her, stubborn and defiant.
She didn’t understand why the attacks had suddenly stopped.
“That gemstone…” The figure stared intently at the gem, then slowly lowered her hand to her face.
Under Yilu’s bewildered gaze, the figure burst into laughter, a laugh bordering on madness.
“Ha ha ha! It’s true. That old hag was right. Witches truly are drawn to one another. I actually forgot that.”
Even though her face was hidden by the cloak, one could imagine the twisted expression from her laughter.
When she lowered her hand, the magic arrays in the void vanished.
Her crimson gaze fell on Yilu, and beneath the cloak, she seemed like a vampire bat in the darkness.
“Carrying an object imbued with the Nightmare Witch’s aura… So that means you, like the previous one, are of the Nightmare Witch’s bloodline. Ha ha ha.”
“Bloodline… like yours?” Yilu was stunned for a moment before reacting. Despite her injuries, she pointed her sword at the figure. “The person you mentioned… is that my brother? Where is he now?”
“Berspin?” Even Lyr was surprised, not expecting to hear news of Yilu’s brother here.
“So he was your brother. How surprising,” the figure said. “As for his whereabouts… perhaps he’s already dead, killed by another Witch.”
“What…”
Finally getting news of Berspin, only to be met with such a statement—Yilu refused to believe it.
She still needed to find him and ask him clearly about this so-called treason.
“I don’t believe you! You’re lying!”
Forgetting completely how she had been utterly overpowered moments before, Yilu took a step back, gathered her strength, and charged at the figure again, intent on forcing an answer.
But before her sword could even get close, it was as if an invisible hand had seized it, freezing it mid-air.
“How presumptuous.”
At close range, Yilu vaguely glimpsed a flash of crimson hair and twisted eyes beneath the cloak.
“If I truly wished, I could kill you right here. However…” The figure’s gaze fell on the gem at Yilu’s neck. “I failed to capture that one before, thanks to the interference of another Witch. Now, you share the Nightmare Witch’s bloodline. Perhaps through you, I can find the legacy she left behind.”
Black energy emanated from beneath the cloak, violently repelling Yilu and sending her tumbling across the ground.
The black energy swirled around Yilu, and several tendrils of it seeped into her body.
Yilu struggled to get up but felt a sudden dizziness.
The scenery before her eyes began to shift rapidly. A bloody, indescribable vision and reality alternated, blurring the line between real and unreal.
“Among Witches, the Nightmare Witch was able to leave a bloodline in this Kingdom, hide her power, and spare her descendants from the curse. What a selfless, benevolent image! How it makes other Witches jealous and loathe her!”
By the end, the figure’s voice was filled with venomous hatred, just as furious as when she had learned Lyr could suppress the curse.