On the edge of the cosmos, this tiny planet had no name, merely an insignificant point of light in the vast starry sea.
Its civilization was still in its ignorant infancy; the natives worshipped various primitive nature gods, and their knowledge of magic was limited to rural legends passed down through streets and alleys.
And at the street corner of a certain town on this planet, a long line had formed in front of an inconspicuous fortune-telling stall.
The stall owner was a woman who seemed quite mysterious, draped in a black cloak with ornate golden patterns embroidered along the edges.
Her face was half-hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, revealing only a pale chin and the sly, fox-like smile at the corners of her mouth.
A crystal ball the size of a fist sat on the table of the fortune-telling stall.
Inside the crystal ball, various mystical scenes swirled, looking very high-end and impressive.
‘Hmm, a very pretty but useless ornament.’
Antuxi tapped her fingers on the table listlessly, watching the long line of natives in front of her, her heart completely calm.
The crystal ball used to project an impressive image was a trinket Antuxi had picked up at some interstellar flea market.
Its only function was to play some flashy light effects, enough to fool some unsophisticated bumpkins.
‘After all, for fortune-telling, you need something that looks really high-end to be the storefront for advertising, right?’
“Master, please read my love fortune!”
A young man covered in freckles sat down eagerly in front of the stall, his hands nervously twisting together, his eyes full of anticipation.
Antuxi glanced at the man lazily, then waved her hand casually over the crystal ball.
Inside the ball, an image of mandarin ducks playing in water immediately appeared.
“On the night of the full moon next month, you will meet the love of your destiny.”
Antuxi lowered her voice, deliberately creating a tone of mystery.
“She will be wearing a red dress and will appear near the mill east of the city. You can go look for her then.”
“Great, thank you, Master! Then… how much should I pay you?”
The man was very excited, but then his face turned cautious.
Antuxi extended five fingers toward him.
The man was startled for a moment, then quickly understood.
He hurriedly took out five copper coins from his chest and placed them respectfully on the table.
Antuxi didn’t even glance at the pile of copper coins.
She just waved her hand casually, indicating that the man could leave.
The man left with a thousand thanks, a happy smile on his face, as if he already saw a wonderful life beckoning him.
Antuxi’s next customer was a middle-aged woman with a worried expression.
“Master, my husband hasn’t come home for three months. Can you tell me where he went?”
Antuxi glanced at the crystal ball.
Inside the ball, a mist appeared, and in the mist, the silhouette of a man could be seen walking into the distance.
“He won’t come back.”
Antuxi’s tone was flat, stating an insignificant fact.
“Your husband has another woman outside. He plans to abandon you and your child.”
Antuxi’s words made the middle-aged woman’s face fill with grief.
Her lips trembled, and she couldn’t utter a single word.
Antuxi suddenly changed the subject, a playful smile curling at the corner of her mouth.
“However…”
“I do have a way to make him change his mind.”
“What way?!”
The middle-aged woman grabbed at the straw, asking Antuxi urgently.
But Antuxi slowly extended three fingers and waved them in front of the woman.
“The price is three years of your life.”
The reward Antuxi demanded made the expression on the woman’s face shift from hope to fear, and from fear to despair.
She opened her mouth, said nothing, then lowered her head and turned away from Antuxi’s stall.
Antuxi watched the woman’s retreating figure, her eyes devoid of any pity.
She enjoyed watching these ignorant natives display all kinds of human emotions under her control—it was one of her favorite games.
Some people were willing to give everything for a vague hope, others chose to escape from cruel reality, and still others wavered between greed and fear.
All of this brought Antuxi unexpected amusement.
For the next while, Antuxi received various customers who desired their fortunes told.
Sometimes Antuxi would charge a high fee, sometimes she would give it for free.
Sometimes she answered clearly, other times she was evasive.
Sometimes the method she provided came at no cost, sometimes the price was even greater than what the customer originally faced.
How she charged, how she answered, and what solution she chose all depended on her mood at the time.
Just as Antuxi was telling the fortune of an old woman, a string in her mind was gently plucked.
That string was a mark Antuxi had specially left for Tunzuo—a kind of special attention—
So she could receive her foolish daughter’s call at the first moment.
Antuxi rarely bothered to monitor Tunzuo actively; after all, she wasn’t the type of mother with strong control issues…
Well, maybe a little, but Antuxi pretended she wasn’t.
At first, she didn’t pay attention to Tunzuo’s calls and continued explaining the old woman’s dramatic fate.
But as time passed, the frequency of that string being plucked grew faster and faster, more and more dense.
Once, twice, three times…
Something unusual made Antuxi frown.
‘What’s wrong with that dull-witted daughter today? Normally she calls once or twice, but today she won’t stop like she’s announcing a death? What happened?’
While dealing with the customer in front of her, Antuxi half-heartedly sensed what was going on with Tunzuo.
She could vaguely feel that Tunzuo seemed to be discussing something with other witches, and the content… seemed to be about her.
This made Antuxi couldn’t help but curl her lips in satisfaction.
‘Ah~ looks like my silly daughter misses her mom and is bragging to her classmates about her mother’s glorious achievements.’
Antuxi decided to temporarily block Tunzuo’s calls and concentrate on enjoying her fortune-telling game.
But just as she was about to cut the connection, a name suddenly came from Tunzuo’s side.
Lovecraft.
The expression on Antuxi’s face abruptly changed.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her pupils contracted, and the space around her became unstable.
The natives waiting in line for their fortunes inexplicably shivered, unaware where this piercing chill came from.
Nostalgia, anger, and some indescribable emotion mixed together.
Antuxi’s expression became extremely complicated.
Antuxi raised her hand and snapped her fingers lightly.
Snap—
The entire planet’s time froze.
The bustling crowd on the street turned into wax statues.
The shouting vendors opened their mouths but couldn’t make a sound.
Birds were frozen midair, and the wind stopped flowing.
The whole planet seemed embedded in a piece of amber, with only Antuxi and the pretentious crystal ball in front of her still active.
The crisp sound of the snap echoed in the air.
Antuxi leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and extended a finger to lightly hook the void.
A faintly visible thread of fate emerged from it, stretching toward the distant Dona Yala World.
‘Let me hear what my good daughter is gossiping about behind my back.’
Antuxi placed her fingertip on that thread, closed her eyes, and began to listen to the conversation in the Summoning School’s specialized theory classroom at the Witch Academy of the Vast Sea City.
Immediately, Antuxi’s face darkened to the color of a pot’s bottom at a visible speed.
“Lady Antuxi loves to play pranks… Her favorite target for pranks is Lady Lovecraft…”
“Lady Lovecraft used shadow tentacles to hang Lady Antuxi up and spanked her for a whole day and night…”
“It’s said that Lady Antuxi’s pathetic, tear-streaked face is still deeply impressed on the witch council members who were present…”
“Ooh~”
Tunzuo’s gloating exclamation rang especially harshly in Antuxi’s ears, making her temples throb with anger.
Good, very good, excellent!
‘My precious daughter is currently having a delightful discussion about my dark history with some Summoning School instructor~’
‘From the tone, my precious daughter isn’t just enjoying the story—she’s adding fuel to the fire, trying to get the instructor to spill more of my secrets~’
‘She really needs a lesson!’
Antuxi suddenly stood up, the hem of her cloak fluttering with the motion.
She reached out, ready to tear through the void and teleport straight back to Dona Yala, grab that little troublemaker Tunzuo, and make her personally experience what it was like to have her clown makeup ruined by tears!
But right as she was about to act, Antuxi stopped.
‘Wait, no…’
Antuxi squinted, quickly weighing the pros and cons in her mind.
‘If I go back to Dona Yala now, I’ll definitely be caught red-handed by that old fossil and the witch council members.’
‘Then they’ll use excuses like “the Chief Witch is neglecting her duties,” “the council documents are piled up like a mountain,” “please approve them immediately, Your Grace,” to drag me back to work.’
‘I finally escaped that boring cage to enjoy a few days of peace—I can’t just walk into a trap.’
‘Besides, that silly daughter Tunzuo hasn’t graduated yet. Even if I bring her over, she can’t help me with work.’
‘No young witch may participate in government affairs—I made that rule myself. I can’t be the first to break it, can I?’
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Antuxi bit her own thumb tip, then reluctantly sat back down in her chair.
‘I’ll keep this debt. When that little troublemaker graduates, I’ll settle the score with her properly.’
With that thought, Antuxi took out a palm-sized black notebook from her chest.
On the cover of the notebook, the words Book of Hatred were written in golden letters.
Antuxi opened the notebook, opened a new page for Tunzuo, and carefully recorded the crime of disrespect to the Chief Witch.
“Year 1145 of the Awakening Calendar, 11th month, 5th day. Tunzuo discussed this Chief’s dark history with Instructor Lei Ruiya in the Summoning School class. Attitude was vile, circumstances serious. Recorded hereby.”
After writing this sentence, Antuxi thought for a moment, then added a line at the end.
“Suggested punishment: one good spanking, plus a one-month ban on sweets.”
Having written this line, Antuxi nodded with great satisfaction.
Then she casually flipped a few pages back in the Book of Hatred.
The earlier pages looked aged, the paper slightly yellowed, and the handwriting blurred.
And occupying these pages was always only one name.
Lovecraft.
More than half of the Book of Hatred had every page filled with entries related to this name.
Some were crossed out, some were revised repeatedly, and some had little angry expressions drawn next to them.
If any other witch saw that the Chief of the Witch Council kept such a thing in her personal notebook, they would probably be silenced on the spot.
Antuxi stared at the name Lovecraft, falling into a long silence.
“That untrustworthy witch. I hate her the most.”
Antuxi whispered softly, a vulnerability and loss in her voice that Tunzuo had never heard before.
With a snap, Antuxi closed the notebook and stuffed it back into her chest.
She took a deep breath, adjusted her emotions, and transformed back into that mysterious fortune-teller appearance.
Antuxi raised her hand and snapped her fingers again.
Snap—
Time resumed its flow.
The streets were bustling again.
The wind rustled the leaves, and sunlight spilled across the land.
Everything returned to normal, as if the pause had never happened.
Antuxi straightened her back, once again hanging that playful smile on her lips.
But this time, there was an extra hint of malice.
Her gaze swept over the line of natives in front of her.
‘Good. Starting now, not a single person who comes for a fortune today will have a good outcome.’
‘The Chief of the Witch Council is in a very bad mood today. A very, very bad mood!’
Meanwhile, as Antuxi tormented the natives, on the other side of the universe, inside the Witch Academy of the Vast Sea City.
After walking out of the classroom, Tunzuo didn’t immediately return to her dormitory.
Instead, she stopped under a patch of shade.
She lightly waved Huanye, and the concentric circle runes on the umbrella glowed faintly.
A rainbow-colored light flashed, and Yuge reappeared before Tunzuo, bowing to her.
“Young Mistress, what are your orders?”
Tunzuo looked Yuge up and down with a cold gaze, then slowly spoke.
“Tell me. Why did you lie to me?”
Hearing this, Yuge raised his head and met Tunzuo’s eyes.
“Young Mistress, you mean…”
“You know what I mean. I won’t repeat myself twice.”
At this, Yuge lowered his head again and sincerely apologized to Tunzuo.
“I apologize, Young Mistress.”
“Why did you lie to me?!”
Tunzuo’s voice was full of grievance.
She felt that Yuge hadn’t given her the most basic trust, which made Tunzuo feel very insecure.
She continued to question Yuge.
“You said you were my familiar. You said you were a transportation type. You said those bubbles and mist were just entrance effects… Do you know I hate being lied to the most?”
Tunzuo grew more agitated as she spoke, and her last sentence was almost shouted.
Yuge silently accepted all of Tunzuo’s accusations, offering no excuses, no rebuttal.
After Tunzuo finished, he spoke slowly.
“Young Mistress, please allow me to explain.”
Tunzuo let out a cold snort, crossed her arms, and assumed a posture of “let’s see what story you’ll come up with.”
Yuge straightened his tie, then began to explain his reasons for acting this way.
“Young Mistress, besides being the bloodline of the Honored One, you are also the bloodline of Lady Antuxi.”
Yuge’s explanation made Tunzuo pause.
She didn’t quite understand the causal relationship between the two.
“What does that have to do with you lying to me?”
“It has a lot to do with it.”
Yuge’s voice was low, as if recalling some very unpleasant memories.
“After the ‘Severance War,’ the relationship between the Honored One and Lady Antuxi deteriorated sharply. The Honored One fell into a deep sleep and disappeared without a trace, while Lady Antuxi became the new Chief of the Witch Council.”
“You were raised by Lady Antuxi. We… were worried that because of Lady Antuxi, you would hold prejudice against us and refuse to accept us. So we chose to hide our identities.”
Yuge raised his head to meet Tunzuo’s gaze, the ghost fire in his eye sockets flickering.
“We just didn’t want to lose you, Young Mistress.”
Tunzuo frowned deeply.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found herself at a loss for words.
She hadn’t expected that the Cthulhu-type familiars would be so wary of her bad mother.
It seemed that the relationship between Antuxi and Lovecraft was far more complicated than Tunzuo had imagined.
Moreover, Yuge’s words revealed an important piece of information.
“The Severance War.”
This was something Lei Ruiya hadn’t mentioned before.
So Tunzuo asked Yuge:
“What is the Severance War?”
Yuge gently shook his head, refusing to answer the question.
“Young Mistress, now is not the time for you to know this.”
“Why?”
Tunzuo was somewhat displeased.
She felt she had the right to know.
“I’m sorry, Young Mistress. Regarding the Severance War, Lady Antuxi placed a gag order on us. No one is allowed to speak of it. This matter… you’ll have to wait until Lady Antuxi tells you herself. I cannot say more.”
Yuge’s tone was serious, and his attitude on this matter was extremely firm.
This made Tunzuo stare at him for a long time, and in the end, she could only sigh helplessly.
It seemed she would have to find out about the Severance War from somewhere else.
“Fine, if you won’t tell me, then don’t. But, Yuge, remember this.”
Tunzuo put her hands on her hips and warned Yuge severely.
“Don’t you dare lie to me again. I will really get angry. If you lie to me again, then I truly won’t want you anymore!”
Yuge bowed slightly, giving Tunzuo a standard gentleman’s bow.
“I swear, from now on, I will never deceive you again, Young Mistress.”
Tunzuo stared at Yuge for nine seconds, then let out a cold snort.
She tossed her schoolbag to Yuge, turned around, and started walking toward the dormitory.
“Let’s go. Time to head back.”