The Academy’s small building lay in ruins.
The office furniture had been smashed to smithereens, the expensive carpets torn to shreds, and the window frames shattered by violent gusts of air. The walls were a spiderweb of cracks.
“Lilith—!”
Granahl hovered amidst the wreckage, letting out a roar of pure fury.
She had never expected her favorite student to betray her. What an ungrateful, cold-blooded traitor!
Dammit!
But the crux of the matter wasn’t Lilith—it was that seemingly harmless black-haired girl.
Granahl loathed Wang Yue with every fiber of her being. That brat had not only tamed Lilith into a devoted hound—or rather, a loyal little bitch ready to bite anyone on command—but she had also personally orchestrated the mass escape of the young witches. At the final moment, she had even blocked Granahl’s killing blow.
At that moment, the white-haired nun stepped quickly into the office, followed by three commanders of the Expeditionary Force and several Restorationist witches.
Granahl’s rage vanished instantly, her emotions smoothing over as she turned gracefully to face the Church officials and her followers. “It seems,” she said, her voice calm and measured, “that we need to have a serious talk.”
The two sides sat across from each other at the conference table once more. The Restorationists and the Church representatives lined up on opposite sides, the atmosphere heavy and somber.
“I offer my condolences regarding the escape of the young witches,” Natya said with a faint smile.
“You look quite pleased with yourself,” Granahl noted, tilting her head toward the nun with an icy stare.
“And why shouldn’t I be? It means we are destined to become allies who must share the same breath to survive, joining hands to fight the dark forces of the Evernight. How romantic,” the nun chuckled, revealing her pearly white teeth.
“Sharing spit just to stay alive? How wonderful,” Granahl remarked, clapping her hands sarcastically.
“Why don’t you start by telling us your plans, Your Eminence?” Natya asked, spreading her hands.
“Terrifying changes are coming soon.” Granahl leaned back, her tone turning grave. Her gaze drifted out the window toward the distant horizon.
“Changes? Are you referring to ‘Blood Dripping from Heaven’?”
“It has nothing to do with that.” Granahl’s eyes swept over everyone present, her voice dropping to a low register. “Have any of you ever been summoned by the Blue Lake?”
The crowd shook their heads.
“Please, elaborate,” Natya said, straightening her posture.
“Ever since I entered the lake and merged with the demon larva, I have been subjected to frequent summons. It’s hard to describe the feeling. I thought that after becoming a Taboo Name, I would no longer possess biological instincts. However, during these summons, I felt a primal craving—a visceral need that made my body act before my mind could. I walked toward the Blue Lake like a mindless zombie…” Granahl described the sensation in detail.
“The Font… has chosen you…”
Secrets gleaned from the Church’s archives surfaced in the white-haired nun’s mind. Natya’s body went stiff, her face pale with dread as she whispered, “The Will of the Source is awakening. It means the ‘Great Eruption’ is coming…”
There was no shortage of scholars among the Church and the Restorationists, and they immediately broke into discussion.
“This is exactly like the conditions before the first Great Eruption. At the dawn of the Genesis Era, the ‘Font’ selected high-aptitude lifeforms to ‘bestow’ its gifts upon, creating beings that were ancient yet reborn. During that period, all life grew wild. Colossal prehistoric creatures walked the earth, and countless intelligent species emerged…”
“There is definitely more than one Font. New ones will appear in various regions.”
“But for humanity, this isn’t necessarily a good thing.”
“Humanity isn’t a single collective of fate; we are a multitude of individuals. For high-aptitude individuals, this will be a blessing.”
Natya coughed, ending the discussion. She looked up at Granahl. “Your Eminence, what is your opinion?”
“If a Material Great Eruption occurs, it signals the end of this era and the birth of a new one. Destruction is always accompanied by rebirth; the cycle repeats.”
Granahl paused for a moment before continuing. “What we must do is huddle together to prevent the Lantern-Bearers from wiping us out. We don’t necessarily have to defend the current Font to the death, because new ones can appear at any time. Therefore, there is no need to engage the enemy in a decisive battle early on. Profiting from the Great Eruption is the only thing that matters…”
***
Fishmouth Town.
With the sudden influx of nearly a thousand people, the town became extraordinarily lively.
Every vacant house managed by the Town Hall was packed to the rafters. Young witches were stuffed into every corner; mattresses covered the floors, and when the bedrooms ran out, they slept in the living rooms.
For the students of the Witch Academy, moving from a crowded dormitory to a crowded living room wasn’t much of a change.
The teachers were busy reorganizing the registers and verifying the headcount.
Since the Principal and the professors were absent, Wang Yue had become the Acting Principal, managing all affairs. People had already started calling her “Little Principal Wang.”
Once the tally was finished, Vida approached with a list, her expression heavy.
Is someone missing?
Wang Yue squeezed her fingers and took a deep breath. “Just say it. Don’t treat me like a child. I am the Acting Principal now.”
Vida nodded firmly, her voice thick with sorrow. “Aside from the three enchantresses who defected to the New Church, only one person didn’t make it… Dorothy.”
“The pink-haired Dorothy?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” Wang Yue said, her voice tight.
She trembled, gasping for air as she stepped back and sat on a pile of firewood against the wall. She covered her face with her hands, her nose stinging with the threat of tears.
She knew very well that Dorothy was likely gone. Being hit by the Corona of a Taboo Name meant instant death.
Seeing Wang Yue’s slumped shoulders and silent grief, Vida’s heart ached. She tiptoed over.
She wanted to pat the girl’s head and offer a few words of comfort, but then she remembered that even an Acting Principal was still a Principal. She couldn’t be too familiar.
Instead, the little teacher propped herself up on the woodpile and sat down beside the black-haired girl. She handed over her handkerchief and tried to console her. “Dorothy has gone to the Pure Land. There will be endless delicacies for her there. Don’t be sad; she can eat as much as she wants without ever getting fat. Her intestines will probably become one straight tube just so food can pass through faster…”
“Be quiet. That sounds even more miserable.”
Wang Yue pressed the handkerchief to her face. Catching a faint scent of jasmine, she sighed. “Dorothy was greedy, lazy, dim-witted, and weak-willed… but she was a kind soul. She was a good girl who never did anything wrong. I was the one who brought her to the Academy, but I couldn’t bring her out. I’ll never see her chubby little legs again…”
Vida felt a pang of sympathy, wishing she weren’t so small so she could pull her student into a proper embrace.
Suddenly, she remembered something. “Dorothy… might actually still be alive. There is a certain survival rate when being exposed to a Taboo Name’s Corona.”
“Really?” Wang Yue turned her head, looking at her with excitement.
“Yes. I asked a Taboo Name about it once,” Vida confirmed, gesturing with her hands. “After being exposed, one doesn’t necessarily dissolve into primordial fluid and turn into liquid. Instead, the body is scrambled and reorganized… into a strange mass of meat.”
“Wait, what? That’s worse than dying. If I’m eating meat in the future and find pink hair in it, I’ll have a total breakdown.” Wang Yue felt a wave of nausea.
It was late. After surviving so much, the students were exhausted both mentally and physically. They needed rest, so they queued up for the baths before heading to sleep.
Wang Yue coordinated with the Town Hall to borrow bathrooms from the local residents. Aside from a few households who thought having witches in their homes was bad luck, most agreed.
After handling the minor logistics, Wang Yue went to the Town Hall and requested a private rest area. She needed to be alone to think about her future plans.
The furniture in the room was old but clean.
After showering, Wang Yue changed into a simple chemise that reached her upper thighs and lay back on the faded, woad-dyed blue sheets. Her small body sank into the soft mattress. With her hands behind her head, she stared at the ceiling in thought.
I’m not really a witch, the Academy is gone, and I’m no longer an undercover agent. Is it time to end this journey? I could go back to the countryside and live in seclusion. I’ll raise some geese, plant some trees, and spend my days eating plums…
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
A familiar voice called out.
Speak of the Plum, and the Plum appears.
Feeling a spark of joy, Wang Yue sat up. Her long, bare legs swung over the edge of the bed. Without putting on slippers, her snowy feet padded across the floor to open the door. She welcomed the orange-haired girl inside.
“You’re just in time,” Wang Yue said. “The Academy is gone now. Why don’t we just leave? We can find a place to live in seclusion, just the two of us…”
“And what about Lilith?” Medeili asked tonelessly. In the shadows cast by the backlight, her cold, piercing gaze made Wang Yue’s heart skip a beat.
