Chapter 15: The Night of the Witch’s Departure
Whoosh!
The purple flames in the silver chalice scattered into countless fiery feathers, then gradually dissipated into the air of the cathedral.
Shartha retrieved the jet-black ring and approached Diye.
“Assassinating that woman, I know, it won’t be easy. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. Diye, you are the most likely among us to accomplish this mission.”
Shartha’s slender fingers held the ring, offering it to Diye.
Diye reached out to accept it, her outward appearance calm, but her heart churned like a stormy sea.
Finally, she had it.
The effort, the sweat, the countless hardships she had endured… If those were within reason, then who among the witches present could truly understand the torment Diye’s soul had suffered these past months?
She finally obtained this item, crucial to her, to him.
Him!
Yes, one day, she might not only regain her original appearance temporarily, but perhaps truly become him again!
She desperately needed that pronoun, to refer to herself as “him.” Those who hadn’t lost it couldn’t understand.
To Diye, the word “him” represented an unattainable honor, everything she had once been!
As her delicate fingers touched the Night Ring, the world around her seemed to plunge into darkness, as if immersed in an endless night sky.
“Diye, oh Diye…”
From somewhere, from a deep, dark place, she heard a woman’s voice calling…
“Diye?”
“Ah?”
It was only a fleeting moment. Everything returned to normal. It would have been disastrous if she couldn’t hold the ring because of that, but thankfully, she grasped it firmly in her hand.
“You’re spacing out again? That’s very dangerous, you know?” Diluowei reminded her from the side.
“…I know.”
“Hmm?” Diluowei’s expression remained calm, but she tilted her head, studying Diye thoughtfully.
“You don’t have to be so nervous. Listen to me…” Shartha, ignoring the formality of the setting, approached Diye, seemingly embracing her in congratulations, but naturally pressing their chests together. She whispered in Diye’s ear, “I know you’re very capable, even stronger than you showed today. But that woman, Qingruo Reid**, is the Empire’s top genius. If you’re not absolutely certain, don’t rush it. If necessary, using a woman’s methods might be more effective against her. You understand, don’t you?”
“I…” Under the witches’ gazes, Diye couldn’t refuse Shartha’s congratulatory embrace. Her ears burned. What woman’s methods? She didn’t understand, how could she possibly understand!
If assassination proved difficult, would she resort to seducing the female Temple Knight, a crueler form of revenge?
If Qingruo succumbed, breaking her vow of abstinence, she would lose most of her power, making her an easier target.
However, what was this busty, vulgar, and outspoken witch talking about? Not only would Diye never do anything to harm or frame Qingruo,
Even if she wanted to, she was a woman, and Qingruo was a woman.
Was Master Shartha deliberately feigning ignorance?
How could a woman seduce another woman?
This was… baffling!
But Diye had achieved her main objective. She wouldn’t dwell on these details. Facing the expectations of the young witches, she would just endure and play along.
“I… understand. Thank you for the reminder, Chief Witch Shartha. I’ll act accordingly,” Diye said, her face flushing despite the insincerity of her words.
Act accordingly? Would she really try to seduce Qingruo?
Impossible!
She… was his affection from his time as a man, the reason his heart wavered, leading to his fall as a witch. Diye was disheartened and depressed, but she didn’t regret it.
She repented, but she didn’t regret it.
And she certainly wouldn’t assassinate her.
Anyway, these were matters for later. She would stall for time and improvise once she reached the Holy Academy.
In truth, there was one thing she was constantly worried about: Cerise. Cerise wouldn’t let her go easily, yet she hadn’t reappeared. Either she was forced to leave, or she had a new plan.
Diye’s biggest fear was Cerise suddenly appearing during the ring ceremony, ruining all her preparations. But she had decided to gamble!
There was one thing that solidified Diye’s resolve: the way the ring was stored.
If Cerise planned to appear during the witch selection, there would be no need to place the ring in the silver chalice on the altar, protected by a powerful spell, and then teach Shartha how to break the spell.
She could simply appear now and bestow the ring herself.
Therefore, Diye had a feeling that Cerise most likely couldn’t attend the ring ceremony.
But where did Cerise go? If Diye ever found out, she would settle the score, after reclaiming everything she had lost.
Beneath the massive, dark Moonstone, resembling a fragment of the night sky,
Diye bowed once more to the Night Crystal, the symbol of the Goddess of the Night.
She truly didn’t want to lie, but she had to swear an oath to the Goddess of the Night.
“Goddess of the Night, guide of witches, I, Yalan Diye, will use your gift wisely, sending that woman… to where she truly belongs,” Diye said, a cold smile playing on her lips.
A truly skilled assassin wouldn’t boast about their target. Diye’s words were as cold as the night, a true threat.
But within that voice, there seemed to be a hint of longing. To mask this longing, Diye forced her tone to be even colder, so no one would notice.
“Sister Diye… please come back safely, no matter the outcome of the mission…” Yoleya prayed sincerely from below.
The witches, having lived and hidden together, had formed bonds. They knew Diye had to go to that place, that witches could no longer fear or avoid battle. But in their hearts, they all hoped for Diye’s success, yet feared for her safety.
Only their shared fate, their tragic experiences, could console them.
…
That night, in the sleeping quarters on the second floor of the Underground Witch Church,
“Sister Diye, these are the things prepared for your mission. Everything’s packed in this suitcase,” Yoleya said, struggling to carry a large, old, yet somewhat elegant suitcase to Diye’s bunk bed.
“Diye, are you leaving tonight?” Qinna asked, her voice tinged with sadness.
“Yes,” Diye nodded. She was already dressed, still in her blue and white pleated corseted dress, black stockings, and boots.
Lusha, Philine, Isesi, and other witches were also awake, seeing Diye off.
“Diye, it’s time to go,” Diluowei said, emerging from her room, her icy blue eyes fixed on her.
“Yes.” The moment of departure had finally arrived. She could finally leave this underground church and embark on the journey to reclaim her life. But for some reason, Diye felt a pang of sadness.
Whether heretics or witches, these past few months, this unusual experience, this companionship… Diye realized she had developed feelings for this place.
A sense of farewell melancholy welled up in her heart.
“I… I’m leaving,” Diye said, forcing a firm nod. She didn’t dare speak more, afraid her voice would betray her emotions.
“Sister Diye, be careful,” Yoleya said, her gaze pure as she looked at the tall, powerful, alluring, yet reassuring older sister, holding onto her white lace cuff.
“No matter what, please come back safely,” Qinna said, turning her head away, one hand covering her face, as if to hide the faint blush on her cheeks.
“Yalan Diye, out there, we must wear a mask to hide our true selves. This place, this is your home, our home,” Isesi said, her voice gentle and wise.
Lusha and Philine also looked reluctant. Even Lusha, the tomboyish witch, seemed on the verge of tears. Although they had been soundly defeated by Diye in martial arts sparring and had even been jealous and teased her…
“Let’s go. The carriage should have arrived,” Diluowei said, looking thoughtfully towards the ceiling of the cathedral.
“Yes.” Diye lifted the large suitcase, turning around, her gothic dress, with its cloud-like white trim, swirling around her slender waist.
Under the night sky, the candles flickered in the dimly lit corridor of the cathedral’s second floor. Diye, her long skirt swaying, carrying the suitcase, left with Diluowei.
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