Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 92: The Most Beautiful Memory

In the world formed by illusory stars, Xia Ya's figure dissolved into countless scattered light particles, slowly fading away.

The Starrealm fell into brief silence.

After a slight daze, the golden elf seated upon the Throne of Thorns let out a soft chuckle.

"Little Death, did you hear that?"

"I just got teased."

Her crisp, silver-bell-like laughter lingered for a long time before gradually fading.

She gazed at the spot where Xia Ya's figure had vanished, shaking her head slightly as she murmured to herself, her voice echoing in the vast, illusory starry sky.

"He's really grown up..."

"Not the little boy he once was, but a man who bears responsibility."

"Though he's a bit domineering, a little lacking in proper respect for his teacher..."

"But, I don't dislike it."

The golden elf lightly tapped the Starrealm with her pale fingers.

"Since my disciple is so good at stirring up trouble, as his teacher, I suppose I'll have to put in some effort too."

"Little Death, my true body is still trapped in the Dimensional Abyss and can't return. You'll have to take a trip to the Imperial Capital and keep an eye on things."

"Understood."

As the golden elf finished speaking, a towering, pitch-black skeletal wraith silently emerged in the starry sky.

It gave a slight nod toward the golden elf seated on the Throne of Thorns before swiftly departing, its massive skeletal frame vanishing into the depths of the Starrealm.

Silence once again settled over the astral expanse.

The golden elf girl leaned back in her throne, closing her eyes as if slipping into slumber.

The illusory stars flowed, rippling outward in wave after wave of light.

Time in the Starrealm moved differently from the Material Plane. It was unknown how long had passed before the golden elf’s eyes slowly opened again.

Her cool, detached gaze carried a rare hint of surprise.

"They're here too?"

A trace of helplessness flickered through her crimson-gold irises.

"You really are..."

"A 'male lead that makes hearts race'..."

Her gaze deepened, lost in thought.

"If I'd known this would happen, maybe I should have locked him up in the Black Tower's forbidden plane and refused to let him out until he became a legend..."

After a long silence, the golden elf let out a quiet sigh.

"But I suppose now... Little Death won't need to intervene."

Material Plane

Western Continent – Fresta Empire – Imperial Capital, Camelot

Royal Guesthouse

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This was the finest hotel in the entire Imperial Capital. Even the most basic single room cost over ten Rhine Gold Coins per night, while the most luxurious suites had prices exceeding one hundred gold coins per night.

Yet despite the steep prices, the hotel had been fully booked recently.

The reason was, of course, the banquet scheduled for tomorrow.

On the surface, it was nothing more than an engagement dinner between two young nobles.

But anyone with even a basic understanding of the Empire's current political climate knew that this seemingly ordinary engagement banquet had implications that could very well shape the future of the entire Fresta Empire.

Nobles, powerhouses, spies, scouts—countless eyes were now fixed upon the Imperial Capital.

No one wanted to miss a single detail of this banquet.

As a result, the city was now teeming with visitors from all corners of the Western Continent.

Those who were formally invited by the Borgia family, primarily figures aligned with the Order faction, had accommodations arranged for them within the capital.

But for the uninvited guests, they had to find lodging at their own expense.

Royal Guesthouse – Tulip Suite

The Tulip family was one of the Empire's Eight Oathbound Houses. Though they had remained neutral, neither siding with the old nobility nor fully submitting to the Imperial Family, they were still a force to be reckoned with.

A suite named after one of the Oathbound Houses was naturally extraordinary. Unless one was part of the Empire's aristocracy, they wouldn't even have the privilege of reserving such a room.

Fioren stood at the entrance of the Tulip Suite, looking toward the massive wooden wardrobe inside the room.

Inside the wardrobe were rows of brand-new garments, all handpicked by Fioren from the most prestigious fashion boutiques in the capital—most of them from the Black Lily District.

Beside the neatly arranged clothes, a silver-haired witch stood before a full-length silver mirror, gazing at her own reflection.

From time to time, she would take a dress from the wardrobe, hold it in front of her, and study how it looked in the mirror.

Sylvia's pure silver hair cascaded down her pale shoulders, shimmering under the moonlight streaming through the window.

Fioren even saw her lift the hem of a dress and twirl lightly in front of the mirror.

At this moment, she did not seem like a legendary figure who had emerged from history after five hundred years of slumber.

She looked like a young girl filled with anticipation, carefully selecting an outfit for a date with her beloved.

The Master of the White Chalk Tower—she had a side like this?

But upon reflection, it made sense.

When The Argent Witch ascended to the Legendary Seat, she had only been in her early twenties—about the same age as Her Highness, the Imperial Princess.

Then followed a long, five-hundred-year slumber.

Thinking about it this way, in terms of actual life experience, Sylvia’s lived years weren’t much more than a mere decade.

She might even have less experience than Fioren herself.

Fioren found herself briefly lost in thought, but quickly recovered.

Despite how approachable The Argent Witch had seemed over the past few days, Fioren hadn't forgotten what happened when she handed Sylvia that newspaper—

The ruins of the Cangting Royal Capital, wiped off the map in an instant under the wrath of a blazing twilight aura.

By Imperial Law, such an act could be considered the destruction of historical artifacts.

But considering that the one who reduced it to ruins might also be its last living survivor, no one dared to press the issue.

Fioren quickly suppressed her wandering thoughts and spoke respectfully.

"Your Excellency Sylvia, as the Southern Inspector, I am aligned with the Imperial faction, but I have still received an invitation to the Borgia family’s banquet."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Tower Master, are you truly planning to disguise yourself as my attendant for the banquet?"

"With your status, even if you weren’t formally invited, simply revealing your identity as the Master of the White Chalk Tower would guarantee you the Borgia family's highest-level hospitality."

「No need.」

Pale golden letters appeared in the air before Fioren’s eyes.

"...Understood."

Fioren respectfully nodded.

Just as she was about to take her leave, she suddenly noticed something.

The Argent Witch had stopped looking at the wardrobe and the mirror.

Instead, she had turned her emotionless golden eyes toward the distant night sky outside the window.

「Four of them.」

"Four of them?"

Fioren's heart tensed for a moment before she quickly pieced it together.

For someone of the White Chalk Tower Master's caliber to take note, the only ones who could possibly be involved were other legendary figures.

If that was the case, then four of them…

Guderian Borgia, the Crimson Rose Patriarch, was certainly one.

The Imperial Family had also long stationed a legendary figure within the capital.

But what about the other two?

From what Fioren knew, the Borgia family had invited various factions that were home to legendary figures. However, most had only sent envoys to observe the event rather than attend themselves.

With demi-gods absent, legends were the absolute peak of the Western Continent. They rarely ventured outside their domains.

Fioren's heart clenched.

As a veteran titled-tier Beastmaster, she was well aware of what it meant when legends descended.

If the Imperial Family’s legendary guardian were held in check by Guderian, then two unleashed legends, at full power, would need only fifteen minutes to level the entire Imperial Capital.

And if she thought deeper—if these two unknown legends were Guderian’s secret allies, brought in to eliminate the Imperial Family...

A terrible sense of foreboding surged within Fioren.

As the Second Imperial Princess’s confidante, she knew that Isadella had already reached the peak of the titled tier. If not for her pursuit of a perfect breakthrough and greater potential, she could have stepped into legendary status at any time.

But even if Her Highness forced a breakthrough at this moment, facing two veteran legends at once would still be an incredibly difficult battle.

If even one of the Imperial Family’s two legends fell, it would be a catastrophe for the Empire.

Fioren parted her lips to speak but was interrupted as another line of pale golden text appeared in the air before her.

"One is far away, only observing through the Starrealm. Likely an undead or an immortal race."

"And the other..."

"Augustina."

Upon seeing Sylvia’s response, Fioren finally let out a breath of relief.

She knew that the Borgia family had close ties with The Church, and their only daughter had even become a Blessed One, with a chance to ascend as a Saintess in the future.

Under these circumstances, no matter what allies Guderian sought out, there was no way he would invite undead—the greatest heretics in the eyes of The Church.

And The Queen of the Night, Augustina, and her Shadow Council had always remained neutral, never aligning with any faction.

These two legendary figures were most likely just here to watch the show.

"So, the Queen of the Night has sent an avatar to the Imperial Capital?"

"It seems even the Shadow Council considers this banquet significant… Well, they are the greatest intelligence network in the Western Continent, after all."

Fioren wiped the sweat from her brow as she spoke.

The Empire and the Shadow Council had a fairly cordial relationship, even cooperating on occasion.

So Fioren was well aware that the Queen of the Night’s authority was linked to darkness and concealment. If she wished, she could manifest a shadow avatar anywhere in the Western Continent where the Shadow Council had a presence.

But just as she finally started to feel at ease, another line of golden text appeared before her eyes—

"It’s her true body."

"Your Excellency Sylvia, I need to report this to Her Highness immediately."

Fioren’s voice was urgent as she quickly departed.

But Sylvia remained still, silently standing before the massive wardrobe, gazing into the full-length silver mirror.

The outfits she wore continued to change, and with each new ensemble, the aura and demeanor of her reflection shifted as well.

At times, she appeared as a gentle, bashful village girl.

At times, as a valiant hero, radiating confidence.

At times, as a righteous knight, noble and solemn.

And at times, as a monarch whose presence commanded all beneath the heavens.

For a legend, altering one's aura and temperament was trivial.

But in the end, the mirror's reflection settled.

Sylvia donned a dark knee-length dress, the layered folds of its skirt cascading like overlapping lotus petals.

On her head sat a small white round hat, and on her feet, a pair of red high heels.

The exact same attire she had worn five hundred years ago, amidst the flower fields of Morning Star Hills.

Sylvia retrieved her amethyst hairpin and carefully secured it within her silver tresses.

Then, the heavy, ancient tome once again fell into her hands.

One by one, delicate golden letters began to appear across its pages.

"Xia Ya-gege, you once told me— 'The longer one dwells in high places, the easier it is to lose oneself.'"

"So, I buried myself within the White Chalk Tower, severing and discarding all unnecessary memories."

"Because I was afraid."

"Afraid that as time passed… as I viewed the world from the perspective of a legend… I would grow cold, distant, indifferent to everything."

"That I would become like so many others before me—obsessed only with longevity, with godhood… becoming the very kind of person I once despised."

"And more than anything, I was afraid… that you would despise me. That you would reject the unfamiliar person I had become."

"If that were to happen… even if we met again at the end of time, we would only be strangers to each other."

Sylvia turned to look at the mirror once more.

The silver-haired girl reflected within had a face as flawless as a painting, her soft smile brimming with warmth.

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to rewind.

She was once again in the Grand Ducal Estate, receiving a letter from a servant, excitedly selecting her outfit for the next day’s meeting.

That night, too, the moonlight was so clear, so bright.

Sylvia placed her pale hand against her chest, feeling the gentle ripple of emotion within—

A feeling she had not experienced in hundreds of years.

"Tomorrow, we will meet again."

"I hope that when I stand before you once more, I will still be the same as in your memory—

"The most beautiful version of myself."

"And then… you can finally tell me the truth you never spoke that day in the flower fields of Morning Star Hills."

"And—"

Sylvia shifted slightly, the expectation, longing, and timid apprehension in her pure silver eyes vanishing.

In their place, a freezing, bone-chilling coldness took root.

At that moment, she was no longer a girl in love, but once again—

The one who overlooked all beings, the Argent Witch.

"I suppose… this is a good opportunity."

"To see for myself…"

"What kind of woman thinks she is worthy of binding herself to you in marriage."