Chapter 56 “But you are different, only you can do it.”

Chapter 56 "But you are different, only you can do it."

Still in the library, the musty smell lingered at the tip of her nose. Fey looked over her body, unharmed.

Strange, what was that light just now?

She was about to pick up the book again when a suppressed chanting reached her ears.

Glancing at the now empty shelves, Fey slightly furrowed her brows and silently approached the source of the sound.

In the deepest part of the rows of shelves, a person in monk's robes was muttering softly while drawing a strange yet familiar magical circle on the ground.

As Fey peeked out, the final stroke of the magic circle was heavily drawn.

"Great Witch of the Sin, Salira! I summon you with my soul as the offering!"

Fey: Huh?

Before she could react, a towering black mist erupted from the ground. The slithering hiss of snakes grew louder, as an elegant black skirt gently touched the ground.

The pale face of Tutor Salira appeared, her crimson lips curving into a beautiful arc.

The monk's eyes widened in disbelief as he knelt down, “She's real... the witch... the one who fulfills all human desires!”

He eagerly crawled forward a few steps, “I want gold! Lots and lots of it! And women, as beautiful as you! And power! Why should Dean have half the continent? I want it too, the supreme kingship!”

Thin snakes wrapped around Salira's waist, numerous triangular snake heads emerging from behind her neck, eerily fixing their gaze on the man before them.

"What can you offer in return?" the beguiling voice hit the ground, igniting the monk's madness.

“Anything! My life, my soul! You witches love human souls, don't you? Take my soul wherever you like after I've lived my life! But I want what I just asked for!”

Salira stroked the little snake that nuzzled her, her eyes brimming with scorn.

"I do like souls, but yours isn't worth that much. 3000 gold coins or a weapon that could make you a member of the Royal Combat Mage Corps is the only price your sinful soul deserves."

"Are you playing with me?!" the monk shouted, unable to contain himself, "Just 3000? What about that worthless weapon, I want military power! Give me the position of the head of the Combat Mage Corps!"

"To trade, or to refuse?" The snake heads uniformly turned towards the monk, their tongues flicking out like cold arrows, making him instinctively step back.

Behind the bookshelves, Fey covered her mouth.

This was definitely Tutor Salira, but not the one Fey knew. Her facial expressions and emotions were completely different! What was happening?

She saw the man's angry questioning but also his hesitation to confront the witch directly, ultimately his desire prevailing.

"I want the weapon!" the monk tugged at his hair, "War is imminent, and if I win, I'll earn military honors before Emperor Feyman! Then all the gold will be mine... all mine!"

The black mist rose, and a staff wrapped in dark energy fell from the void.

Fey recognized it; it was a mere level 30 ordinary staff, with only one skill slot, utterly worthless.

As the monk joyously took the staff, not even bothering to erase the magic circle, he hastily ran out.

After the man left, a clear impatience flashed in Tutor Salira's eyes.

"Today's harvest doesn't seem so great!" Silver-white hair cascaded down from the high bookshelves, revealing another familiar face above Fey.

"Lilith," Salira turned, "shut your mouth."

"In such chaotic times, only dealing with these small fries every day, Salira, such bad luck." Lilith giggled, and in the next moment, a swarm of snakes rushed to her face.

The white hair wildly whipped around, as snake heads were chopped into pieces.

"Are you that idle?" Salira finally looked up at the towering witch, "So, your sister finally let you out? Aren’t you worried my magic will surpass you and then kill you?"

"Is Salira jealous of my power?" Lilith seemed delighted, "Sadly, that day will never come! This is war, after all!"

Lilith's eyes sparkled, "Isn't this the true 'harvest season' for us? Knights craving military power, mages scheming to enter the upper echelons of politics, hunters insatiably longing for gold, summoners wishing to turn everything into their familiars... The more chaotic the world, the stronger we become. Salira, can you hear the darkness spreading? I must say, Feyman is quite the emperor!"

"Don’t call me Salira, it reminds me of some weird guy." Salira looked away, gently touching her chest, and smiled softly, "But you're right, war is indeed a beautiful era."

"However, I hope we don't meet again. You should go back to your sister. That's where Lilith belongs, isn't it? Witches aren't a species that lives in groups."

The black mist dissipated, and the magic circle along with the witch vanished without a trace.

Bored, Lilith's hair surged as she prepared to teleport away, but Fey rushed towards her.

"Headmistress Lilith!"

However, like a handful of smoke, Fey dissipated upon contact with Lilith, who didn’t notice her and disappeared.

Fey was left slightly bewildered.

What had she just heard? What time was it now?

Fey immediately ran out of the library, and the desolate scene outside was like an old movie being replayed.

Hurried administrators and law enforcement officers were running across the square; the golden and majestic academy was yet to be built.

Solemn knight legions were heading towards the city gates, battle formations composed of various professions looked equally grim and detached.

They passed right through Fey and headed towards the distance.

"Have I returned to the first cycle?"

Magic flowed without issue; although she couldn’t attack others, casting on herself worked perfectly.

What about the rest?

Fey tried calling out, "Beelzebub Odelric Vito Priestley."

No response.

Then, "Little World?"

Still silence.

Her consciousness sank into her chest, where the golden heart still beat strongly and steadily.

Okay, could this be the Divine's memory or some sort of persistent delusion?

"So, what are you trying to tell me?" Fey transformed her hat into a hawk and soared into the vast clouds.

This time must be just before Dean initiated the full-scale war. Due to Feyman's dark rule, battles large and small erupted across the continent, with countless ambitious individuals vying for a share in the chaotic era.

Fey saw unarmed residents' homes invaded by thugs, leaving behind only corpses, and a barely alive young girl with lifeless eyes, wishing upon a witch.

Enshrouded in black mist, the witch granted her the power of vengeance. New souls entwined around the witch's chest, heralding fresh strife.

Amidst fire and blood, the government mansion seemed like an illusion. The sacred mages, seeking greater power and ignoring their Divine, united with forest mothers, hunting gods, and many other professions to capture witches, coveting only their hearts.

“Look, this is history, and this is reality,” Fey whispered as she flew over the land, the white silhouette finally appearing beside her.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Fey stared at It, "It's human desire that creates all this, not the witches."

"Yes," the shadow looked down at all beings, speaking slowly, "So when only this wisp of consciousness remained, I realized the grave error I made. But some stories are already beyond redemption."

"Fortunately, you still have a chance. From your soul, you are different from us, from this world. In this world, all of us are bound by the events that have occurred, except for you, free from the control of the world line."

Fey paused for a moment.

"Back then, you told me witches could fulfill any wish," the shadow extended a hand, "Now, may I use the last of my power in this world to ask the witch for one final wish?"

Fey reverted from her transformation, landing on a high rooftop.

She gazed directly at the shallow figure, "Go ahead, say it."

"I wish for this world to be free of invaders, where ordinary people are no longer part of a predestined program to be killed and forced to rise again." Golden eyes peered through the mist, "I hope for the wicked to perish, and for betrayal and invasion to cease forever."

As the last word fell, the mist instantly transformed into countless golden threads, intertwining around Fey's body. Her heartbeat raced as if it would explode, and a clear voice resonated in her mind.

"This is the last thing I leave in this world, as atonement. You will get what you desire, and as a gift before I completely dissipate."

"Don't worry, this is my memory, which the Master of the World cannot pry into."

"Lastly, please convey my apologies. To the departed, and to all people."

The view in front of her suddenly zoomed out, the vast empire continent shrinking to the size of a sandbox. Fey felt herself being lifted high, observing the happenings below with inhuman speed.

A flood of intricate information rushed into her thoughts, but this time, it wasn't as unbearable as before.

The two hearts merged into one, gold and black intertwining, ultimately transforming into a yin-yang symbol hovering over her chest.

"So it is... only the power of a god can lift the divine punishment."

Now, with a part of a deity's power in her, she certainly could do it.

Her eyes shimmered with golden light as Fey looked down at her body, where inconspicuous sacred curse texts under her skin looked like chains.

She lowered her gaze, covered them with her hand, and then gently tugged—

As the headless warhorse was about to launch its final charge, the terrified God of Hunting suddenly noticed the red-haired Witch of War stopping her magic coverage and abruptly looking up at the sky.

Amidst the surging snakes, new souls being devoured, and yet another doll-like figure appearing before her, Salira's brows suddenly furrowed, and she used her magic to blow off the roof, revealing the gradually brightening sky above her.

Lilith, standing amidst corpses and a river of blood, luring wild treants with her magic; Gaia, sewing tiny clothes for hanging dolls in her hideaway; Sharpe, repelling Abyss Breakers with countless weapons—all the witches looked up simultaneously.

They didn't understand what was happening, only feeling a heavy shackle suddenly lifted from them.

But it wasn't over yet.

Fey continued to magnify the memory, swiftly searching for a specific figure.

Soon enough, she found the person she was looking for.

A child-like Theodore stood in a corner behind his father, watching the empire's evening sky.

At that time, the Feyman Empire was already riddled with holes, and its future demise was already in sight.

The boy held a palm-sized book in his hands, with only two words on it — "Festival."

Back then, Theodore's pupils were still a deep green.

Suddenly, Fey heard the crackling sound of electricity.

"Do as I say, Theodore, and you will forever tread on all existence. You are the only one who can access that world. Whether it be your father or the supreme Divine, they will only be steps under your feet. Today's failure will become the foundation of your success."

A young witch, ghost-like, stood beside the future archbishop, her cold gaze landing on the back of Theodore's ear.

There was a small, round, floating chip.

— Yes, a chip, like those found in every smartphone on Blue Star.

An item that shouldn't exist in this world, yet it was on Theodore.

Fey finally broke into a smile, "Found you!"