Chapter 2: The Birth of the Ghost Witch

Deep in the Ruins of the Granitnuo Forest, the air felt like ink that had solidified over a thousand years, heavy and suffocating.

This was the shadow side of the world, a forbidden zone rarely touched by the footsteps of the living.

In the corner of the ruins, hidden in the shadows, the final drop of energy essence from the blood bead, like a trickle of red jade, slowly seeped into the mass of thick black fog that was curled up in the center.

Tunzuo had completely digested the blood bead.

As the blood bead was fully absorbed, the body of black fog that had once been merely chaotic erupted instantly.

It was not a vibration in the physical sense, but a reconstruction from a higher dimension, focused on the level of the soul.

The illusory shadow fog surged and roared like boiling water, collapsing violently inward as if an invisible giant hand were forcibly shaping this twisted and chaotic dark specter.

The sound of bones growing echoed through the deathly silence.

The black fog and shadows were solidified, and soul energy was materialized.

Immediately after, muscles and skin began to sprout onto the newborn skeleton, and the once chaotic black fog was gradually kneaded into a human form.

Tunzuo felt as if she were being forcibly dragged back to reality by a powerful force from an endless, empty dream.

Was it pain?

No, it was not the pain a mortal could understand, but a sensation of tearing and reshaping caused by one’s “existence” being forcibly defined.

When all the clamor settled into silence and the churning black fog receded like a receding tide, a brand-new silhouette—a “physical entity” in the true sense of the word—was born in the shadows.

The woman stood quietly in the shadows, her figure tall and upright, reaching 5 feet 7 inches.

Compared to the ethereal black fog from before, she was now so concrete and so… heavy.

The woman slowly lowered her head, adapting bit by bit to this brand-new body.

A pitch-black gothic dress perfectly wrapped around the woman’s newly formed body.

The skirt of the gown fell in layers like the silent night, and every fold seemed to contain the mysteries of the abyss.

The collar and cuffs were decorated with dark purple thorn patterns, reflecting a cold and mysterious metallic luster under the faint foxfire deep in the ruins.

This was not something the woman had chosen deliberately, but an instinctual interpretation of “beauty” and “darkness” from the depths of her soul; this was her initial form as a Ghost Witch.

The woman’s skin was a near-transparent cold white, shimmering with a jade-like luster, creating a sharp visual contrast with the pitch-black dress.

She slowly lifted her head.

A waterfall of black hair fell onto her shoulders, the strands flowing with stardust light under the illumination of the foxfire.

The woman’s face was as delicate as the most perfect work of art, with facial features both three-dimensional and profound, yet she always carried an inhuman and eternal coldness.

Most striking of all were the woman’s bright eyes.

Deep green soul fire burned slowly within the pupils, like two soul-guiding lamps from the underworld, capable of easily seeing through all disguises and falsehoods in the world.

The woman looked down at her own hands.

Her fingers were slender, and her nails were a translucent jet black, as if polished from the finest black pearls.

She gently clenched her fist and then released it.

The fingertips conveyed a cool, tactile sensation.

This feeling of “heaviness,” this “sense of entity” bound by flesh and bone, made her feel a hint of novelty, and also a hint of… impatience.

“I… have a body again? And I’m a girl… is that the effect of the blood bead…?”

Tunzuo spoke her first words.

Her voice was hoarse and lazy, carrying the confusion of a fresh awakening and a sense of emptiness from the depths of her soul.

The cold voice echoed in the empty ruins, as if countless ghosts were whispering at the same time.

Tunzuo raised her hand and pinched her cheek gently.

The skin was smooth and delicate but cold to the touch.

Under her fingertips, there was a real sensation.

Tunzuo could feel the faint pulse of energy flowing through her body and the rise and fall of her chest while breathing.

This sensation of existing as a physical entity was far less comfortable than floating in the air as a simple ghost, as if she were chained to the ground by invisible shackles.

“How troublesome, so tiring…”

Tunzuo frowned slightly, a flash of annoyance appearing in her deep green eyes.

Her body instinctively wanted to go limp, dissipate, and merge into the surrounding shadows as it had before.

However, although her newly acquired body could still dissipate into black fog, an anchor remained bound to the center of the fog, preventing Tunzuo from being as free as she once was.

However, the restraint of her body did not keep Tunzuo frustrated for long.

Suddenly, an unprecedentedly vast and restless energy surged within her body.

It was a gift from the blood bead, a starter present from some Prankster Mother for her little project.

Tunzuo closed her eyes, gathered all her perceptions inward, and sank quietly into the depths of her soul.

‘Let me see what the blood bead gave me. I hope there is a skill that allows me to sleep peacefully…’

Tunzuo moved her mind, and the ground beneath her feet seemed to “come alive.”

It was not a physical change, but a connection established on a higher dimension.

Tunzuo’s shadow—that dark area that had been lifeless and merely an obstruction of light—began to flow slowly and eerily, like living black mercury.

The shadow was no longer a passive projection; it was an extension of Tunzuo’s will.

As Tunzuo’s intentions flowed, the shadow on the ground spread to the surroundings like a black tide, silently covering the entire ruin and penetrating into the cracks of the rock walls.

Tunzuo could feel every inch of land the shadow touched, the texture of every rock, and even every tiny protrusion.

The shadow became the tentacles of her body, turning into another way for her to perceive the world.

“I can manipulate shadows? Not bad…”

Tunzuo murmured to herself, her voice finally carrying a hint of excitement from exploration.

She tried to give the shadow more concrete instructions.

As her will flowed again, the shadow spreading on the ground pierced out like a sharp blade instantly, sinking silently into the hard gray rock wall.

There was no flying gravel, no sound of impact; the shadow passed through the wall as if sliding across the surface of water, easily cutting a bottomless, mirror-smooth mark into the rock.

“Not bad.”

The corners of Tunzuo’s mouth rose slightly, forming a cold curve, but she was obviously not satisfied with just that.

Tunzuo focused again.

The shadow under her feet began to bulge upward like black mud rising from the ground, being reshaped bit by bit.

In an instant, the pitch-black shadow transformed into several translucent black arms.

They had no physical form, yet they possessed astonishing strength and could touch reality.

These arms stretched flexibly toward the ground, grabbing the gravel and dead wood scattered around, slowly suspending them in mid-air and making them revolve slowly around Tunzuo, as if performing a silent dance of sacrifice.

“I can shape them, I can control them…”

Tunzuo opened her eyes, staring at the gravel and dead wood suspended in the air.

The deep green soul fire at the bottom of her eyes pulsed slightly.

“Shadows bow to me.”

However, this was only the tip of the iceberg of Tunzuo’s abilities.

Tunzuo took a deep breath and turned her focus to a deeper level—the soul.

Tunzuo closed her eyes again, and her perception at the soul level was forcibly amplified to the limit.

In an instant, the world became completely different in her “eyes.”

The air was no longer empty; it was filled with drifting, weak soul particles.

They drifted in disorder like dust in the universe.

Tunzuo could “see” the flow of these soul particles and “hear” their silent collisions and communications.

But that was not all.

Tunzuo’s soul perception spread out like an invisible net.

She “heard” something.

She heard the cries and wails of destruction from many years ago deep within the ancient ruins.

Those sounds did not pass through her ears but sounded directly in her soul.

Countless resentful spirits whispered in Tunzuo’s ears, howling about their pain and unwillingness.

“So noisy…”

Tunzuo frowned impatiently.

The senses of her new body were too sharp, and this noise from the soul level made her feel a bit irritable.

This made her instinctively want to shut everything out.

Tunzuo concentrated her mind with her eyes closed, and a burst of chilly soul power erupted from her body.

Like an invisible barrier, it spread outward instantly.

In the blink of an eye, all discordant noises were shut out.

Those cries, wails, and whispers seemed to hit an unbreakable high wall, instantly dissipating without a trace.

The world returned to tranquility, leaving only the fluctuations of Tunzuo’s own energy dancing.

“I can perceive and suppress souls as well.”

Tunzuo opened her eyes, a flash of realization in them.

She realized that the strength of her soul far exceeded everything in this place.

Those remaining resentful spirits and obsessions were nothing but weak fireflies before her, not worth mentioning.

But this was only defense and isolation at the soul level.

What Tunzuo wanted to explore were more proactive, more aggressive abilities.

Tunzuo closed her eyes again.

This time, she condensed her soul’s perception into a single point and probed the shadow beneath her feet.

She no longer viewed the shadow simply as an extension of her limbs, but completely “threw” her consciousness into the shadow.

A strange sense of detachment washed over her.

Tunzuo felt her “vision” switch instantly.

She was no longer the tall witch standing on the ground, but became the darkness on the ground.

Her consciousness had projected into the shadow.

The novel feeling was wonderful and free, allowing Tunzuo to traverse any shadow at will, ignoring all physical obstacles.

Walls?

They were as good as non-existent to her.

She could easily “flow” through the cracks in rocks and “seep” into metal partitions.

Tunzuo sensed everything around her, not through eyes, but through the soul’s absolute affinity with darkness.

She “saw.”

In the world of shadows, she could sense the soul fluctuations of all living things around her.

Those fluctuations were like fireflies in the dark—weak, tiny, yet clearly distinguishable.

Tunzuo knew that if she were willing, she could easily follow the connections of these soul fluctuations, invade the shadows of those creatures, and subsequently touch their souls.

This ability made Tunzuo feel a hint of satisfaction.

At least if she encountered trouble, she could “hide” in the shadows at any time, and no one would be able to find her.

No, not just hiding; she could become a hunter in the shadows, approaching prey silently and delivering a fatal blow.

“However…”

Tunzuo’s consciousness withdrew from the shadow and returned to her original body.

This high-intensity soul exploration made her feel a deep fatigue.

The energy consumption of her new body was far greater than she had imagined.

Things like “using one’s brain” and “exploring” were, as expected, too tiring.

Tunzuo let out a long yawn, a lazy expression appearing on her delicate face again.

She raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

The shadow behind her began to surge like a living thing, quickly condensing and shaping.

The pitch-black shadow transformed into a comfortable recliner made of pure darkness.

This chair was condensed from the essence of the Shadow World, emitting a chilling breath that brought peace of mind.

Tunzuo lay down, her body sinking into the embrace of the shadows as if she had returned to that original, unconstrained, warm, and safe state of nothingness.

The Shadow Recliner swayed slightly with Tunzuo’s body, like a cradle.

“Let it be like this…”

Tunzuo closed her eyes, letting the two green soul fires slowly extinguish in the depths of her pupils.

Her consciousness sank again to the edge of half-asleep and half-awake.

“As long as I can have a good sleep, nothing else matters…”

The ruins returned to deathly silence, with only the chair made of shadows emitting a faint, ghostly glow in the darkness.

The chair quietly carried Tunzuo, the ghost witch who had just been born.

The exploration of the Ghost Witch Tunzuo had just begun, and her journey would truly set off only after this long sleep.

In her dreams, Tunzuo might dream of wider shadows, deeper souls, and… that great existence who gave her a new life.

But for now, Tunzuo was simply enjoying the long-lost “weight” and “peace” brought by this body.

The black gothic dress swayed gently in the breeze, and her black hair fell like a waterfall, covering half of Tunzuo’s face.

She slept soundly, like a carefree child.

And beneath her, the Shadow Recliner acted like the most loyal guardian, silently guarding Tunzuo’s dreams, ready to transform into the sharpest sword or the sturdiest shield in her hands the moment she woke up.

The era of the Ghost Witch Tunzuo thus quietly pulled back its curtain in the midst of a deep slumber.