Chapter 114: Lake Harry

As she stepped forward, the sight that met her eyes was an endless wilderness.

The wind swept across the grassland like a carving knife, causing the green blades to ripple in layered waves of emerald.

Above hung two pitch-black celestial bodies, like a pair of deep, hollow pupils, gazing down upon the earth with cold indifference, bathing the entire sky in an eerie yellowish glow.

The boundless grass stretched toward the horizon like a green tide, and above, the blue sky and starry night had vanished, replaced by a silently converging darkness that completely shut out the clamor of the material world.

Floating across the heavens were countless fragments of cities.

Some of these city fragments were grand and magnificent, with spires towering into the clouds, symbolizing classical splendor; others were dilapidated, their broken walls and crumbling ruins covered in the erosion of time.

City fragments of wildly different styles were like a jigsaw puzzle out of control—one moment they would combine with a dull rumble, constructing castles in the air, and the next they would separate, drifting apart in the gravity-defying void, painting a surreal and bizarre tableau.

Tunzuo raised her head, her emerald eyes reflecting the astonishing scenery above.

“Whoa…”

Her tone was filled with awe and wonder.

She instinctively turned to look at Antuxi walking beside her and blurted out.

“Mommy, is this your spirit world?”

Since Antuxi had explained earlier that witches with strong mental power could construct their own spirit worlds, Tunzuo naturally assumed that the vast otherworldly space before her was Antuxi’s creation.

“Hehe, this is not my spirit world.”

Antuxi’s laughter rang out distinctly across the open wilderness.

She elegantly smoothed her wind-tousled hair, dismissing Tunzuo’s guess.

“However, it is indeed very quiet here—none of those annoying witch-buzzing flies—so I do occasionally use this place as a scenic little rest stop.”

Then, Antuxi’s rainbow-colored eyes narrowed slightly, a playful smile curling at the corners of her lips, her gaze lingering on Tunzuo.

“To be precise, this place should now be considered your territory.”

“My territory?”

Tunzuo pointed at herself in confusion, her face full of bewilderment.

She didn’t remember having such a beautiful piece of land to her name.

Tunzuo’s brain worked at full speed, trying to dig up any trace of this wilderness from the corners of her memory.

Unsurprisingly, the result was a complete blank.

Just as Tunzuo was about to ask Antuxi what was going on, a gust of wind suddenly swept through, lifting the hair of all three witches high into the air, their robes fluttering noisily in the breeze.

A figure in yellow robes appeared with the wind, standing silently before Tunzuo.

Hasuta, the Lord of the Yellow Robes, had arrived.

“Lady Antuxi, Young Miss.”

Hasuta gave a slight bow, greeting Antuxi and Tunzuo with humble reverence.

Then, he nodded toward Olivia, who stood beside Tunzuo, as a gesture of friendliness.

“Hasuta?”

Seeing the Lord of the Yellow Robes, whom she had met once before, suddenly appear before her, Tunzuo couldn’t help but feel surprised.

After all, according to what was taught in class, it was very difficult for a familiar to descend to the material world through other channels without being summoned.

Did Mommy summon Hasuta here?

Sensing Tunzuo’s inquiring gaze, Antuxi waved her hand dismissively, looking somewhat indifferent.

“Don’t make such a fuss, acting like you’ve never seen the world. A spirit world is naturally an extension of the spirit world, essentially a part of it. Besides, Carcosa is Hasuta’s domain, so it’s only natural for him to appear here.”

Before she even finished speaking, Antuxi looked up at Hasuta, a glint of cunning flashing through her shrewd eyes.

She asked him in a tone that seemed to seek approval but was actually a command.

“I plan to borrow Carcosa to train your Young Miss’s mental power. You don’t have any objections, do you?”

After hearing Antuxi’s request, Hasuta’s yellow-robed form paused slightly, his voice low and hoarse.

“It is this one’s honor that you and the Young Miss wish to cultivate in this one’s abode. Carcosa is always open to the Young Miss.”

But then, Hasuta’s tone abruptly shifted.

The faceless visage beneath the yellow robes slowly lifted, staring intently at the pale mask on Tunzuo’s face, an indescribable sense of repulsion and disgust spilling out without any pretense.

“However, there are some unclean things that this one is unwilling to allow into Carcosa.”

Hasuta’s voice was icy cold, clearly not welcoming the visit of an old colleague.

“Hey hey hey! Yellow Robes, that’s no fun!”

Before Tunzuo could react, Naiya let out a sly cackle, throwing a tantrum in response to Hasuta’s dismissal.

“Isn’t it just ‘blowing up’ Hali Lake twice? No need to hold such a grudge, right? We’re all old friends here—why be so distant?”

Although Naiya described it as an unintentional joke, Tunzuo could clearly feel Hasuta’s emotions churning violently.

Clearly, what Naiya had done to Hali Lake was far more than just “blowing it up.”

Just as Naiya and Hasuta were locked in a standoff, the tension in the air growing thicker, a hand suddenly shot out from the side like lightning.

Antuxi snatched Naiya right off Tunzuo’s face, clutching her tightly in her hand.

No matter how Naiya struggled and squirmed under Antuxi’s grip, letting out all sorts of strange cries, she eventually fell silent under Antuxi’s overwhelming power.

“Hmm, she’s probably been choked unconscious.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Naiya.”

Antuxi shook the pale mask in her hand at Hasuta, a signature fox-like smile on her face.

“My credibility is still guaranteed, isn’t it? Carcosa will be perfectly safe this time.”

Staring at Antuxi’s playful fox smile that clearly said “you have no choice but to agree,” Hasuta fell into a long silence.

The darkness beneath the yellow robes stirred, ultimately dissolving into a sigh that seemed to come from the dawn of time.

“Since you, Lady, have spoken, this one shall say no more.”

Hasuta extended a tentacle, waving it gently to guide the three witches.

“Please follow this one. This one will take you all to Hali Lake.”

Under Hasuta’s lead, Tunzuo and the other witches crossed the wilderness and arrived before a vast lake.

Hali Lake—the heart of Carcosa, the origin of all illusions.

The mighty Hali Lake stretched beyond the horizon, like a boundless mirror.

The water was crystal clear, possessing a strange, ethereal quality.

Yet what astonished Tunzuo the most was that the mirror-like surface did not reflect the twilight of dusk, nor did it capture the city fragments floating in the sky.

Instead, the lake was more like a colossal screen, playing vivid yet eerie images one after another.

Through the lake’s surface, Tunzuo could see:

In a rift valley of lava, a dragon raised its head and roared, its breath incinerating everything in its path;

In a verdant forest, elves moved with graceful leaps, chasing and playing among the treetops;

In the clamorous underworld, demons reveled wantonly, hosting bloody feasts;

In a holy cathedral, angels prayed devoutly, singing praises to their one true lord.

All forms of life, all phenomena of the world—all contained within the waters of Hali Lake.

Tunzuo stared at the lake, lost in thought, trying to make out the details of the images.

Beside her, Antuxi stepped lightly and walked directly across the surface of the lake, the tips of her feet barely touching the water, sending ripples spreading outward.

Seeing this, Tunzuo first tested the surface with her toe, and upon realizing she wouldn’t fall through, she lifted her skirt and hurried after Antuxi.

Seeing that both Tunzuo and Antuxi had already departed, Olivia, standing on the shore, decided to follow suit and walk on the water.

But the moment Olivia’s foot touched the surface, the previously solid lake immediately churned into waves.

“Splash!”

Before Olivia could even let out a cry of surprise, she plunged headfirst into the water.

“Glub! Cough, cough!”

The water of Hali Lake was bitterly cold, as if it could freeze one’s very soul.

“Glub! Cough, cough, cough!”

Olivia struggled in the water for a good while before flailing her arms and legs, scrambling pitifully back to the shore.

Once on land, Olivia was drenched from head to toe, her golden hair clinging wetly to her face.

Without hesitation, she wiped the water from her eyes and turned to look, only to see Tunzuo already far ahead, her figure growing smaller and smaller.

“Little Ghost! Wait for me!”

Olivia shouted at the top of her lungs, trying to get Tunzuo to wait, but Tunzuo seemed not to hear her at all, walking on as if nothing had happened.

In no time, she disappeared into the mist rising from the lakeshore.

At this, the at-a-loss Olivia could only pace anxiously by the shore.

Just then, Hasuta approached Olivia.

He did not mock the drenched witch, only speaking in a calm tone.

“Hali Lake only accepts the visitors it desires, Miss. Please wait here with this one for a while.”

Hearing this, Olivia had no choice but to sit down on the ground with a sigh, staring blankly at the spot on the lake where Tunzuo had vanished.

Meanwhile, on the surface of Hali Lake, after walking for what felt like an eternity, Antuxi finally came to a stop.

Seeing Antuxi halt, Tunzuo looked around—the shore was nowhere in sight, only the mist rising from the lake and the mirror-calm water keeping her company.

“Alright, this is good.”

Antuxi nodded, turned around, and narrowed her rainbow-colored eyes, fixing a mischievous gaze on Tunzuo.

“Ready for your special training, my dear daughter?”

Antuxi’s words sent Tunzuo into instant alert.

Almost reflexively, Tunzuo raised her fists, assuming a combat stance, every muscle in her body tensed, ready to counter whatever monster Antuxi summoned or whichever elusive magical bombardment she threw.

Seeing Tunzuo so poised for battle, Antuxi couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle, finding her daughter adorably silly.

She walked over to Tunzuo, reached out, and gently pressed down Tunzuo’s raised fists, making her sit down on the spot.

“Relax, silly daughter. No fighting this time. No need to be so tense.”

“No fighting? Then it’s a lesson?”

Tunzuo’s eyes widened with suspicion, full of distrust toward Antuxi.

After all, she knew all too well what Antuxi’s so-called special training was like.

Those supposedly “easy” tasks always came with painful consequences.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be as tiring as you think.”

Antuxi’s lips curled slightly.

With a flick of her wrist, she produced an exquisite hourglass from who knows where and gently placed it on the water’s surface beside Tunzuo.

“Your training is very simple.”

Antuxi pointed at the lake, her tone as casual as if she were telling her child to pull weeds in the front yard.

“Do you see your reflection in the water? All you need to do is stare at it until the hourglass runs out.”

“Stare at my reflection?”

Antuxi’s words caught Tunzuo off guard.

She instinctively looked down at the lake.

On the surface, Tunzuo’s reflection was curiously peeking outward, occasionally making funny faces.

Of course, those were all things Tunzuo herself was doing.

“Just staring is enough, Mommy? No incantations? No meditation?”

The absurdly simple task made Tunzuo find it hard to believe.

“Of course it’s not that simple, silly daughter.”

In response to Tunzuo’s question, Antuxi’s smile deepened, the thoughts swirling in her rainbow pupils beyond any witch’s comprehension.

“In this training, you must maintain absolute mental focus, staring at your reflection in the lake at all times. Not a single moment of distraction, not even a blink.”

The moment Antuxi stated her requirements, Tunzuo’s face instantly scrunched up in misery.

“Huh?!”

For a ghost witch who loved sleeping and slacking off, this kind of tedious training demanding intense concentration was nothing short of torture.

But under her mother’s authority, Tunzuo had no choice but to swallow her complaints and ask in a small voice.

“Then… how long will this hourglass take to run out?”

“Oh-ho, that’s hard to say~”

Antuxi raised a finger and wagged it in front of Tunzuo, her smile radiant.

“It could be ten seconds, it could be a day, or it could be a year. Time has no meaning in this training. It all depends on your performance.”

“Alright, very Antuxi-style training…”

The answer, full of mischievous cruelty, made Tunzuo, who had expected as much, let out a resigned sigh and accept Antuxi’s bizarre training requirements.

She adjusted her sitting position, took a deep breath, and prepared to begin this training of unknown duration.

However, Antuxi’s next words caught Tunzuo completely off guard.

“Alright, now that you know the requirements, I won’t stay here with you. Train well—I’ll wait for you at the shore.”

Hearing that Antuxi was leaving, Tunzuo felt a wave of panic.

This was something she had never expected.

“Mommy, you’re not going to watch me?”

Tunzuo stammered, clearly unaccustomed to training without a witch supervising her.

“What’s the matter, silly daughter? You’re a grown witch now. Do you still need your mommy by your side?”

Tunzuo heard Antuxi’s laughter, clearly amused by her question.

“But Mommy, aren’t you afraid I’ll slack off?”

Tunzuo fidgeted with her fingers, feeling embarrassed just saying it out loud.

To this, Antuxi said nothing, silently walking toward Tunzuo.

As a familiar pressure approached, Tunzuo immediately shrank her neck, squeezed her eyes shut, and trembled slightly, feeling like Antuxi’s “big stick” punishment was about to come down any second.

But contrary to all expectations, what Tunzuo received was not a scolding or a slap, but a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The soft touch, mixed with a faint fragrance, instantly soothed the tension and unease in Tunzuo’s heart.

Tunzuo blinked, dazed, and opened her eyes to meet Antuxi’s gaze—warm and full of love.

Those rainbow-colored eyes, usually filled with mischief and cunning, now brimmed with the tender affection of a mother.

“Mommy believes that my good daughter won’t fail to endure even this little hardship.”

Antuxi cupped Tunzuo’s face, her voice gentle, as if she were just an ordinary mother encouraging her child.

“I believe in you.”

Tunzuo stared at Antuxi, momentarily stunned.

The thoughts of slacking off and complaining that had been brewing inside her dissipated into thin air.

“Mommy…”

“Don’t worry, Mommy. I won’t let you down!”

Tunzuo nodded firmly at Antuxi, her eyes full of determination, clearly resolved to conquer this training.

“Good. I look forward to your performance.”

With that, Antuxi smiled and turned to leave, her figure gradually fading into the mist until she disappeared entirely, leaving Tunzuo alone to face the vast Hali Lake.

After Antuxi was gone, Tunzuo took a deep breath, steadied her emotions, then reached out and flipped the hourglass beside her.

Fine sand began to trickle down, making a faint rustling sound.

Tunzuo focused intently on her reflection in the lake, not daring to let her guard down for a single moment.

One second, two seconds, one minute, one hour…

Time passed bit by bit, and the simple act of staring grew increasingly difficult as the minutes dragged on.

The prolonged use of her eyes made her eyelids ache, tears leaking out uncontrollably, her vision blurring.

The endless monotony and oppressive silence also began to torment Tunzuo’s mind.

The entire Hali Lake was terrifyingly quiet.

All Tunzuo could hear was her own breathing and heartbeat.

Even so, Tunzuo forced her will to hold, wiping away the tears at the corners of her eyes, refusing to blink, keeping her focus locked on the reflection before her.

Gradually, as time slipped by second by second, Tunzuo’s consciousness began to waver.

Tunzuo stared at the reflection on the lake, and the reflection seemed to stare back.

Slowly, the reflection grew both unfamiliar and strangely familiar.

Tunzuo gradually drifted off, her awareness dispersing, her eyes losing their light, as if her spirit was being slowly drained away by Hali Lake.

In an instant, the line between reality and illusion blurred beyond recognition.

Upon reaching a certain threshold, Tunzuo’s spirit entered a void, all five senses lost.

She couldn’t feel her own existence, couldn’t feel the cold of the water—couldn’t perceive anything at all.

At the same time, the reflection on the lake eerily came to life.

The previously still reflection now curled its lips into a meaningful smile.

It smiled and opened its arms toward Tunzuo, as if welcoming an old enemy’s return.

The next second, the lake rippled, the solid surface churning into waves.

Tunzuo’s body lost its support, plunging into the water, sinking silently toward the bottom.

What Tunzuo didn’t know was that the hourglass on the lake’s surface had long since stopped flowing—no one knew exactly when.