“Eat, eat the big portion!”
With a loud bang, a spirited, full-voiced shout rang out inside the room.
Antuxi flicked her wrist and slammed a white porcelain bowl as large as a basin onto the dining table in front of Tunzuo.
Antuxi’s bold manner startled Tunzuo, making her flinch.
Cowed by Antuxi’s authority, Tunzuo looked into the bowl with a grim expression and saw countless white worms with round, razor-like mouths densely piled within the large porcelain vessel.
The white worms were lively, squirming and tangling wildly in the bowl.
Their grayish-white bodies rubbed against one another, producing faint, rustling sounds that gave the witch goosebumps.
Occasionally, one would raise its head and spit out corrosive acid.
Staring at the seething sea of white worms before her, stomach acid surged into Tunzuo’s throat, triggering a violent wave of revulsion.
Gritting her teeth against the urge to vomit, she stiffly shifted her gaze to the side.
On the dining table in front of Tunzuo also sat a large white porcelain platter, upon which lay a giant brain with bizarre limbs.
Though the strange brain had long since lost its vitality, the slightly twitching cerebral cortex, the unconsciously spasming muscle tissue, and the thick, viscous blood dripping down the rim of the platter all told Tunzuo one thing—
It had been slaughtered no more than ten seconds ago.
Extremely fresh.
“Mommy…”
Tunzuo clutched her stomach with a pallid face, forcing down the churning in her gut.
“I mean, are these two things even something a witch can eat? Forget whether they’ll bite me, wouldn’t just swallowing them give me a stomach perforation?”
Tunzuo gazed at the two bizarre dishes Antuxi had lovingly prepared, and inside her heart, ten thousand alpacas trampled through her reluctance.
The needle and thread of resistance sewed her mouth shut, and she simply couldn’t bring herself to take a bite.
“Eat, you must eat!”
Antuxi crossed her arms, watching Tunzuo with a serious expression, tapping her slender fingers lightly on the tabletop, her stance as unyielding as a stubborn rock.
“Your thought sea just expanded, so your spiritual development needs to keep up. If you rely solely on natural growth, you won’t get anywhere until the cows come home. Mind flayer tadpoles are rich in high-concentration psychoactive enzymes, and intellect devourers are the ultimate brain tonic. For you at this stage, this is the best nourishment you can get, so—”
Antuxi paused, her gaze sharpening in an instant.
“You have to eat every bit of it clean, not a single scrap left. You should know, these ultra-premium ingredients are things even ordinary witches never get to touch. It’s only because your mommy dotes on you that I’m willing to spend this kind of fortune.”
“Ugh… well, c-couldn’t it be cooked?”
Tunzuo’s voice trembled, her tone twisted with discomfort, trying to negotiate with Antuxi.
“It’s not like we haven’t had stir-fried silkworm pupae and roasted brains before. Sprinkle some cumin and chili powder, and they taste pretty good, but raw… how am I supposed to open my mouth for this? Just thinking about it is—!”
Just as Tunzuo was hoping Antuxi might do a little processing on the raw ingredients before her, what she got instead was a small dish of lemon vinegar Antuxi shoved under her nose.
“Dip it in some seasoning to change the flavor. The sourness will neutralize the fishiness.”
Unfortunately, Antuxi wasn’t buying any of it and left Tunzuo absolutely no room to maneuver.
“Heat destroys the psychic enzymes in the cells. Those active substances all die the moment they’re exposed to heat. Only in their raw, natural state do you get the best results, understand or not? Hurry up and eat. Don’t waste time yapping at me. If they crawl out, I’m not helping you catch them.”
Seeing the clearly mischievous smile on Antuxi’s face—one that practically said she was settling in to watch the show—Tunzuo knew there was no escaping this ordeal.
With no other choice, Tunzuo could only cast a pleading look at the sidelines, asking Olivia and An Lin with desperate eyes whether there was a more reasonable dietary option that wouldn’t harm her spirit.
In response, Olivia helplessly spread her hands, a flicker of sympathy passing through her brilliant golden vertical pupils.
After all, what Antuxi said was true—raw consumption was several times more effective than cooked.
So Olivia could only signal for Tunzuo to endure it.
Meanwhile, An Lin, who had already proactively changed into her black-and-white maid outfit, reacted quickly.
With a “swish,” she raised an empty plate beside her, silently covering her face and pretending she wasn’t there, absolutely refusing to get involved in the matter between Tunzuo and Antuxi.
That said, An Lin’s greedy gaze shot out from behind the plate without any pretense, locking onto the two bizarre delicacies on the table.
Wah wah wah!
Those are mind flayer tadpoles worth two thousand witch gold each!
And they’re served by the basin! And an intellect devourer worth nearly ten thousand witch gold! This isn’t a meal—this is eating money!
Damn it, is this what the filthy rich upper class looks like? When will this outrageous fortune ever fall to me?
Wah wah wah, Sister Tunzuo, please go easy on the leftovers!
If you can’t finish, leave a couple for your big sis, I don’t mind at all—
Unaware that another witch was coveting her leftovers, Tunzuo let out a resigned sigh and accepted the fate she couldn’t defy.
Tunzuo furrowed her brow, held her breath, and extended two fingers, trembling as she picked up a lively, squirming mind flayer tadpole from the bowl and held it before her.
“Screw it! Here goes!”
Tunzuo squeezed her eyes shut, steeled her heart, and shoved the mind flayer tadpole into her mouth.
As her teeth bit down hard, an abundance of protein burst across Tunzuo’s tongue in an instant.
The hard chitin crackled and crunched under the grinding of her teeth, and the tender, juicy flesh stuck between her upper and lower molars.
After chewing experimentally a few times, Tunzuo’s tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed, and her eyes lit up.
Huh, not bad—actually tastes pretty good?
Though the overall texture was a bit sticky and carried the distinctive savoriness common to marine creatures, it was crisp on the bite, and the more she chewed, the more fragrant it became.
The flavor was uniquely distinctive, with a faint sweetness lingering at the end.
Once she got past the psychological discomfort, a witch’s adaptability was terrifying.
After the first mind flayer tadpole went down, Tunzuo quickly found her rhythm.
With a tadpole in her left hand and a slice of intellect devourer in her right, she dipped them in lemon vinegar and dug in with gusto.
“So good.”
Tunzuo mumbled indistinctly, her cheeks stuffed full.
Seeing Tunzuo happily chowing down, a satisfied smile curled at the corner of Antuxi’s mouth.
Her gaze drifted downward, landing naturally on Tunzuo’s wrist.
A simple, unadorned bracelet swayed there—no woven gold threads, no gemstone accents, just a small USB drive attached.
It was a gift Lake Harley had given Tunzuo, and proof that Tunzuo had lived another life.
A glimmer of emotion passed through Antuxi’s eyes, but she said nothing more.
Instead, she shifted her tone and brought the conversation back to the troublesome wager.
“Once you’re done eating, get ready to train.”
Antuxi pointed toward the door, her tone flat.
“At your current level, you’re about on par with the little dragon whelp. You’ve made decent progress, but that Fafnir isn’t slacking off either.”
“Oh, okay, Mommy…”
Hearing Antuxi say that, Tunzuo, who was happily gnawing on the intellect devourer, lifted her head with blood smeared across her face and bits of flesh hanging from the corners of her mouth.
Her tone was full of weariness and complaint, clearly disliking the feeling of being dragged into someone else’s fight.
Seriously, if the older generation has a grudge, they shouldn’t drag the younger generation into it.
Fighting back and forth is exhausting, thankless, and damages relationships.
Well then, don’t blame me for coming up with my own counter-strategy to your policy.
As Tunzuo finished off the remaining food, she secretly glanced at Olivia, scheming quietly to herself.
Heh heh, anyway, it’s me and the perverted dragon fighting in the end.
On the field, we’ll both go easy on each other—you tap me, I tap you, then we both pretend to collapse from exhaustion and stage the whole match.
You two old-timers won’t have a leg to stand on.
Sensing Tunzuo’s gaze, Olivia blinked and returned a knowing OK gesture to Tunzuo.
Oh ho ho! As expected, the perverted dragon understands me best! Now this is what you call a telepathic connection!
Satisfied, Tunzuo lowered her head and cleaned up the last scraps in her bowl.
What Tunzuo didn’t know was that her little back-and-forth with Olivia couldn’t possibly escape the notice of a cunning old fox like Antuxi.
The moment Tunzuo looked away, Antuxi had already seen through both witches’ little schemes completely.
Antuxi didn’t call it out on the spot.
Instead, she spoke in a light, coaxing tone, like a snake luring its prey into a trap.
“Don’t keep making that sour face. Participating in the academy league has its benefits for you too.”
Antuxi spoke persuasively, as if she had Tunzuo’s best interests at heart.
“Not to mention, if your academy makes it into the top eight, you won’t have to take the basic exam for the Summoning School. I’m sure with your current strength, plus the little dragon whelp, that’ll be an easy win.”
“I won’t have to take the school’s basic exam?”
Tunzuo raised her head, thoughts swirling, but soon lost interest and lowered it again, pouting with displeasure.
“What’s that supposed to be, some amazing perk? In the end, I bust my ass just to skip one exam. It’s not like I get to skip all of them. I still have to take the rest, so it’s not really worth it.”
Seeing Tunzuo acting ungrateful despite getting a good deal, Antuxi smiled and lightly flicked her forehead.
“Count your blessings. Getting an honor and skipping one exam is already pretty good. The assessment system in witch society is very strict. Do you want to take the basic exam that includes a written test, a practical combat assessment, and an interview defense?”
Tunzuo looked up with a grin, showing a row of white teeth tinged with blood.
Skimping on effort where possible was an unshakable principle.
“Hehe, of course not!”
“Hmph, you, you’re lazy to the bone.”
Antuxi shook her head, raised a hand, and a gentle wave of magic swept across, wiping away the residual blood from Tunzuo’s mouth.
“Done eating? If so, come outside with me to train. Don’t stay in the house, it’s annoying to look at.”
“Oh.”
After a brief response, Tunzuo got up to follow Antuxi out.
Taking that opportunity, An Lin, who had been sneaking glances, quickly peered into Tunzuo’s bowl.
Yep, licked clean, polished like new—nothing left but a bit of bloodstain.
Even the plate was so shiny it reflected light.
Seeing her dear little sister with such a hearty appetite, tears of missed opportunity streamed from the corners of An Lin’s eyes, and she was too moved to breathe.
Tunzuo had once asked Antuxi why her training method wasn’t something like meditative sitting.
In response, Antuxi said:
“Meditation is indeed the mainstream method for cultivating spiritual power, but it’s too easy, too comfortable. A greenhouse can’t grow towering trees. What I want is for you to be able to summon all your spiritual power instantly even in life-or-death combat. So do meditation in your spare time during rest. For special training, we’re doing something special.”
Hearing that, Tunzuo rolled her eyes hard on the spot.
She knew it—Antuxi was still the same malicious, wicked mommy, always finding ways to torment her.
She figured whatever the upcoming training was, it definitely wouldn’t be easy.
Antuxi led Tunzuo to an open clearing on Glowing Crystal Coral Island.
The view was unobstructed—aside from a few scattered coral trees, there were no obstacles in sight.
“Since I still need you for something important later, I won’t have you expend too much energy this time.”
Given Antuxi’s personality, that “something important” was definitely a huge pitfall waiting for her.
Antuxi stopped with her back to Tunzuo, her tone light.
“Just run two simple laps around the island.”
“Something important? What important thing?”
The hidden meaning in Antuxi’s words made Tunzuo uneasy, and something felt off.
Seeing how wary Tunzuo was, Antuxi chuckled lightly, turned around, gave a mischievous wink, and explained:
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. After all, it wouldn’t look good to have the Three Pillars missing one, right? It’s about time things got a bit livelier around you.”
After hearing Antuxi’s words, Tunzuo finally understood.
It seemed her magical circuits were now sufficient to summon a third familiar, so Antuxi intended to have her summon the final pillar of the Three Pillars.
In that case, conserving energy was indeed necessary, since summoning rituals were very tiring.
But… two laps?
Before Tunzuo could figure out what Antuxi meant by “two laps,” a massive shadow descended from the sky with a dull, whistling sound, crashing heavily to the ground in front of her.
BOOM!
Dust flew, and the ground cracked.
A shadow as vast as a mountain swallowed Tunzuo completely.
She looked up, dazed, and saw a rhinoceros the size of a hill, its body clad in thick iron armor, standing before her like an iron wall.
The ferocious rhino snorted, blasting two white jets of vapor from its nostrils.
Its small, bloodshot eyes burned with savagery as it stared fixedly at Tunzuo, as if looking at an old nemesis.
An armored dragon rhino—a vicious, extremely destructive magical beast with thick skin, immense strength, and a charge capable of shattering mountains.
Tunzuo had crossed paths with this thing plenty of times during her special training, getting chased through the forest, so they were old acquaintances.
“Using your spiritual power to make the armored dragon rhino stop is the content of this training session.”
Antuxi leaned against a fruit tree, idly trimming her nails with a delighted smile.
“How about it? Easy, right? As long as you make it stop before it slams into you, you pass.”
“Oh, right.”
Then, as if remembering something, Antuxi casually added for Tunzuo:
“I’ve already sealed your shadow abilities. You won’t be able to undo the sealing formula, so don’t think about escaping into the shadows. Face it head-on, got it?”
“Heh… heh, aaaah! You wicked mommy who ruins her own daughter!”
The corner of Tunzuo’s mouth barely lifted into a smile before she turned tail and ran without a second thought.
The armored dragon rhino let out a low roar, pawed the ground with its four hooves, and charged fiercely after Tunzuo like a marching army.
Its heavy hooves thundered, shaking the ground with every step.
In an instant, dust and chaos filled Glowing Crystal Coral Island.
“What’s with those screams?! What’s with that cowardly attitude?! Stop! Charge straight at the armored dragon rhino! Suppress it with your spiritual power! Control it!”
Antuxi cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone, shouting with gleeful abandon.
Her voice carried far on the sea breeze, but the only responses were Tunzuo’s fading screams and the armored dragon rhino’s enraged roars.
Seeing this, Antuxi lowered her hands and shrugged, watching the two shrinking figures—one chasing, one fleeing—and a sly smile of a scheme successful curled at the corner of her mouth.
Then, Antuxi slowly turned around and looked at Olivia, who had been following Tunzuo the whole time and now stood there looking utterly lost, her eyes narrowing with meaning.
“Little dragon whelp, are you interested…”