Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 252 - 235: The Shadow of Revenge

The gathering neared its end a few days later, leaving only the final act, a program earlier conveyed to various Witch groups through each Witch Mother. An affirmation of oneself, a vision for the future.

On a night when the moonlight was obscured by a thick fog.

Lily and the Witch of Death had already packed up their tents. Aside from agreements reached during the Witch Mother council with other groups, the Witch of Death had hardly welcomed a new member, fortunately, they had intended to stay out of it all along. Just as Lily had said, what the Witch of Death needed to do now was to enjoy a ridiculous performance about dreams and idle talk brought by the Matriarch Sesela of the Vengeance Witch, after which they could applaud to show their involvement and then return to Andrey to continue playing with the Liches.

Mory, Rola, and Fergenie were sharing their travel experiences. A few days ago, through the introduction of the magical cat Veraliz, they met their new Witch companion, Kurona, a Vengeance Witch. The four got along surprisingly well and quickly began frolicking together.

"Kurona says she will give us a big surprise today, really want to know what it is."

"Why not just wait? We are on the way to witnessing it."

The Witch of Death advanced up the hillside, forming a massive procession like other Witch groups, with rows of silhouettes in black lines becoming the mountain range’s new attire. Looking up, the cold wind fluttered their tattered dresses—they looked like devout pilgrims enduring the bitter cold.

Piercing through the clouds blocking the view, the sight naturally became fixed on that abrupt black obelisk standing in the middle of the altar. The clouds above and the bright moonlight and the distant light at the edge of the vision did not disturb the stone’s somberness—it stood like a landmark of a land of sorrow, firmly setting the atmosphere here. The gloomy and bizarre were commonplace to Lily, the Witch of Death, but that unnatural glint of light in the distance aroused her suspicion, shining incessantly in the darkness like a star fallen to earth.

The approach of Sesela disrupted Lily’s exploration of that distant brightness, and as she looked at the woman before her, she noticed her full lips were actually curled up, bearing a gentle smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Appreciating the despondency of the failures, it makes the delight in my heart all the sweeter."

At the altar, Kurona, shrouded in black gauze, knelt before the stone pillar, basking in the residual light. Her clothes had been stripped from her body, and her delicate skin was as white as moonlight. The frail girl knelt within the ancient runes glowing with eerie witchcraft.

Just like a sacrifice to evil.

In Lily’s ears, Sesela’s voice was like an evening breeze.

"I’ve done it again, the ancient ritual."

"Yes, Sesela, as perfectly as the last time you did... but you will fail eventually."

"Veraliz is not that girl with astonishing potential. Although the girl’s charm fascinates the Witches, beauty is not power."

"Is that so? But what about after the ritual? You didn’t tell that black cat, did you? Every Matriarch awakened is not free; she is a puppet lured by the temptation of power, a puppet destined to become our master. The Matriarch will become our master, burdened by us; otherwise, the witchcraft power inside her will tear her apart, along with everything around her."

"Nothing is free. Freedom is just a cage we don’t feel confined by," Sesela’s eyes narrowed, and the cold light in her gaze sharpened, "Besides, who said I must deceive and conceal? The lessons from last time have taught me that deceit always comes at a cost."

"You mean... "

"Veraliz, my future Matriarch, has long been aware of everything about the awakening ritual. I’m not the one who plays with everything and then fails to grasp it. We just use each other to get what we want. As long as I can achieve the future I hope for, I am willing to be consumed. Veraliz chose to exchange her freedom for power and become our Matriarch, even knowing everything."

Sesela looked at Lily’s astonishment and revealed a bizarre smile.

"Veraliz is a revenger like me, no, her hatred is a thousand times more profound than mine."

The sky grew even darker.

Moonlight was hijacked by shadows, emitting helpless cries in the sky. Dark waves tumbled across the sky, looming over the Witches’ heads, like waves ready to overturn at any moment.

In the surging shadows connected to the top of the black obelisk, two fierce lights appeared, like cold flames, like the frosty gleam on ice. The black cat’s eyes watched everyone, and its light seemed to freeze souls.

Veraliz leapt down from the top of the stone pillar, bringing with her a surging tide of shadows, like ink diffusing into clear water, engulfing Corona in the center of the altar.

In the writhing darkness, Corona let out a terrible scream, as if enduring a horrific torment. The little witches at her side dodged away, but the scene had already become their nightmare.

The screaming had twisted to the point of deformation, and if you really listened closely, you would find a clear difference from the previous sounds. The last breath was a faint sigh, no longer youthful, carrying a distinct air of toughness in its tone.

The darkness blocking the view changed, becoming light and thin, turning into a piece of smooth cloth, dancing in the air with the wind. From within the shadows stepped out a woman they had never seen before. Her stature far exceeded that of the era, her appearance suggesting she was around twenty years old, her body developed to the peak of aesthetic perfection, with ample curves, long and full thighs enveloped in a layer of black gelatinous fabric. The shadows spread over her graceful limbs, forming her clothing. Her hair was fine and disheveled, like a lion’s mane, adding a touch of wildness to the woman, along with her aggressive gaze. In her amber-colored vertical pupils, there was a mix of slyness and wisdom.

The moment she appeared, an oppressive feeling loomed over the witches, and the Vengeance Witches had already knelt in worship of their Matriarch.

Sesela walked up humbly.

"My mistress. Matriarch Veraliz."

The woman’s facial expressions were immobile, but the look she gave Sesela seemed to smile, her voice sweet and cloying, like kissing your heart, a trend of corruption and intoxication that would open your heart and make you submit to her.

"Sesela, skip the formalities and start the part we desire."

Three witches were brought forth; these were clanless witches, their strength having reached the Third Tier, but now they were frail as infants. The power of witchcraft had eroded their bodies, their organs nearly ceasing to function. A witch’s life was fleeting, coming to an abrupt end as their powers increased.

Veraliz extended her delicate fingers, like young bamboo shoots, and from her palm poured a dark shadow, like a black cat, into the bodies of the witches.

"My clan, we hunt in the shadows."

The shadows, like torches, burned on the bodies of the three witches. Once the darkness had fully merged into their bodies, the witches whose conditions were once severe opened their eyes, bestowing them with the same beast-like pupils as Veraliz. On their heads stood tufts of cat ears, their long tails swaying at will, and their nails sharp like claws, tips gleaming with cold light.

They became agile and powerful, their strength having entered the Fourth Tier.

The transformation was a success. The Witch Mother had appeared, and she had bestowed her clan with her grace; the witches’ lives were no longer in the grip of organ failure. Their futures shone as brightly as those of other races, and they were more powerful. All the witches looked joyfully at their new Matriarch, their savior.

"Lady Veraliz, please allow me to follow you!" "Me too!" "And me!"

Veraliz revealed a smile, identical to that of Sesela.

"No, this is still not enough, my sisters. We have not yet become truly powerful. Our bodies have been redeemed, but not our spirits. We are still those who consider ourselves weak, unless we overcome our own fears and become the masters of ourselves."

"Lady Veraliz, what should we do?"

"We were abandoned, hurt, fleeing, hiding, filled with fear and numbness. Why? Why was it only us who suffered all this? We lost our homelands, swallowed by the so-called righteous light that consumed everything beautiful we once had! Now, shall we continue to bite back our words and pretend we are unharmed?"

A terrible thought arose in Lily’s heart, and a premonition rang like an alarm bell. She rushed towards Sesela, grabbing her clothes in a distressed scream, "Answer me, Sesela, where are we, and what is that light in the distance? What are you planning!"

"Where are we? Just as you think, Lily. This is the Brink-Yinslanche Mountain Range, and there..."

Verlet waved her hand and tore apart the clouds surrounding them, revealing in the distance a city wrapped in radiance, still bright in the darkness, matching the firelight in all the witches’ eyes.

"Our enemy lies right under our eyes, sleeping soundly, enjoying everything we have lost! Shall we just crouch in the cold wind, watching them bask in their peace? A peace built upon the bones of our sisters! The hunt begins, my sisters! Let them experience everything we have gone through! They will pay for their deeds!"

"That is the Holy City of Rocarrot."