The Virtuous Dark Witch

Chapter 37

Duke Alexandra Stirling knew his son spoke the truth. Everyone had their own position, and he had no way to refute it. Yet beyond his title as the Andros Ancestor Duke, he was also a father."Ana may be in the wrong, but she is still your sister."

"Could you please stop reminding me I have such a foolish sister?" Alexander's smile faded. He turned sideways to his father. "Twenty years ago, Mother sent me to the southwest to trace the whereabouts of Duke Austin Corell."

"I made my way all the way to Anastas City, but found no news of Duke Austin Corell. Instead, I discovered a huge number of transformed beings in the city, all from the same bloodline. I sent you a message, and warned Rocky Anastas more than once. But what happened?"

At the mention of this, Duke Alexandra grew even more helpless. "I did reprimand Ana." He never expected this once-obedient little kitten would use his guilt toward her to raise her claws against the West Sea Forest.

"Is that so?" Alexander sneered. "Then Ana's current fate is entirely her own doing."

His little one had hidden in the West Sea Forest for twenty years, and once she came out, she struck it big. She not only killed that old hag Boyle but also captured Viscountess Ana Stirling alive.

Alexander touched his own neck. The pain that had lingered for twenty years was finally gone. He wondered if his little one still liked the Blood Rose Glass Card.

"You and Thea are to be married soon—"

"Father," Alexander cut him off again, asking in return, "If the Witch Clan and Werewolves conspired to encircle the Andrea Capital, what would you and the other dukes do?" Without waiting for a reply, he glanced at the darkening sky outside. "Did Elara Dessey do anything wrong?"

Benelli Larissa, who had been watching quietly, spoke with a light laugh."Elara Dessey has shown great restraint. When I saw her last night, she showed no sign of exhaustion. If she had had a reason to keep me, she would not have let me leave so easily."

Duke Alexandra was somewhat surprised. "If I remember correctly, Elara Dessey is Merlyn Dessey's daughter. Could her talent be greater than Selah's?"

"I don't know," Benelli added at once. "But in my judgment, Elara Dessey is only one step away from attaining the Witch Ancestor realm." What amazed him even more was her sharpness and composure.

"What?" Duke Alexandra could no longer sit still. Even Alexander was utterly shocked. He had heard Thea mention the little dwarf before.

It was said the little dwarf was born with raven-black hair, extremely rare among Dark Witches. At only three years old, she could communicate with nature—one year earlier than Selah Dessey, the ancestor of the Dessey Clan. At thirty… to reach such a realm at thirty. He could not imagine how she had endured all these years.

Alexander returned to his castle in a daze. Before he could sit down, Thea appeared before him. "Did Duke Alexandra summon you to discuss our wedding?"

Alexander pulled her onto his lap. "Do you want to?" He had not dared ask her feelings since learning of the marriage.

"Isn't it too soon?" Thea wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers gently brushing the stubble on his jaw. "I want to go back to the West Sea Forest." She needed to see her mother, her sister, and… little Elara.

"I'm afraid that's not possible for now." Alexander held her slender waist. Seeing her confused look, he smiled and explained, "The hottest news just broke today."

"The new Lord of the West Sea Forest, Elara Dessey, slaughtered all the transformed beings in Anastas City in one night, killed the former Patriarch of the Light Witch Larissa Clan—Boyle Larissa—and captured Viscountess Ana Stirling alive."

Thea pushed Alexander away at once and tried to flash out the door. Alexander stopped her immediately. "Don't go looking for Elara." She received our wedding invitation and will come to the capital soon with Ana."

"Move aside." Thea grew even more anxious at the news that Elara was coming to the Andrea Capital. "Don't you know how dangerous it is here?" Her little Elara was only thirty.

"Thea," Alexander held her tightly in his arms. "Benelli Larissa said little Elara is only one step from becoming a Witch Ancestor."

Thea froze. Shock flashed clearly in her silver-red eyes. Alexander softened his voice to soothe her. "Going to find her now will only get in her way."

The room fell silent. Tears welled up in Thea's eyes, blurring her silver-red pupils. She wiped them away, her tightly pressed, quivering lips revealing her heartache. She blinked hard and patted Alexander's arm holding her. "Let go. I'm going to cultivate."

“Alright.”

In Anastas City, Elara hired a group of teenage Rozin children with one silver coin to clean the dirty streets. She continued minding her shop with a take-it-as-it-comes attitude—and, as expected, no customers came.

"You tied Ana to Boyle Larissa's Sun God Staff and left her baking in the sun all day. What Andros would dare come here to buy Moonlight Rings?"Cinderaven preened his feathers with his beak. He desperately wanted a bath.

Elara shrugged. "If I don't tie Ana up, will you watch her?" Business was bad because there were still too many Moonlight Rings on the market, saturating demand. "Besides, I didn't take Ana's Moonlight Rings. What are those Andros so afraid of?"

"You didn't take her rings," Cinderaven spread his right wing toward the Sun God Staff standing in the middle of the street. "But do you know the Light Witches' Sun God Staff and the Sun Pillars the Andros use to punish nobles come from the same source?"

The Sun God Staff gathered sunlight. Even with Ana's Moonlight Rings close to her body, the moonlight power within could not fully block the sun's radiance. At noon, he had watched Ana smoke and heard her painful moans—it was the only motivation he had to peck at the rings.

Elara glanced at the unconscious Ana and looked sideways at the black crow. "Are you calling me cruel?"

Which of his beaks said that? Cinderaven sensed the young Dessey was in a bad mood again. He stiffly retracted his wing. "You're actually very kind." He was only stating facts and helping her figure out why no one was buying.

"Am I kind?" Elara looked at the street, still damp from washing.

How should he answer? Cinderaven scrambled for the right words while worrying about his future. After a few seconds, he said flatly: "You are so beautiful that love at first sight is too slow. You are so beautiful that stealing souls is never cruel enough…"

What nonsense was this? Elara rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

Cinderaven objected. "Don't you like it? This poem was written personally by Alexandra to court Lisandra."

Lisandra had thought Alexandra was so talented at writing that she had chosen to overlook his flaws and be with him.

That was a poem? Elara almost spat at him and wanted to teach him Three Hundred Tang Poems."Does Duke Alexandra hold a grudge against Duke Austin Corell?" Why else would he ruin the image of an Andros Ancestor Duke like this?

"Not before," Cinderaven said with a weary look. "But now he does—and it's all your fault." If she hadn't brought up descendants, would he have remembered to hate Alexandra for having so many?

Elara thought he meant the capture of Ana. "Don't worry. As long as you don't expose yourself, no one but me will know your dark past. Besides, Ana wouldn't have escaped even without your help."

Realizing she had misunderstood him, Cinderaven chose not to explain. He tilted his head, studied her face, and asked after a long pause: "Haven't you felt even a little guilty?"

“No.”

Then could he ask to rest on her shoulder when he was tired of flying? Cinderaven sighed again at how hard life was as a bird.

Before full nightfall, Elara loaded four boxes of Moonlight Rings onto a carriage, fetched two cases of Dark Fire Burst Bombs from the secret room, and sealed her shop again. She plucked a strand of hair, turned it into silver thread, tied one end to Ana and the other to the carriage.

She took out a prepared notice, attached it firmly to the shop door with witch power, and after confirming nothing was left behind, climbed onto the carriage.

"Let's go."

"Release me!" Ana Stirling, haggard and sunken-cheeked after the ordeal, screamed in a hoarse voice. "I am the daughter of Duke Alexandra Stirling, a noble Andros Viscountess. You will pay dearly for your disrespect and humiliation today…"

Elara ignored her and closed the carriage door. Cinderaven, standing on the long table, shook his head. "I suddenly realize having too many children isn't always a good thing." Looking at Ana, he no longer felt jealous of Alexandra.

"Smart," Elara said, sitting cross-legged by the window to calm her mind and prepare for cultivation.

Watching the young Dessey like this, Cinderaven knew her greatness was inevitable. "You left that notice to warn the forces hiding in the shadows, didn't you?"

It read: Any violent incidents in Anastas City within one month would be investigated and held accountable by the West Sea Forest.

"I captured the Lord of Anastas City. I fear some forces may take the chance to cause chaos." Elara closed her eyes, her voice softening. "Leaving a safeguard is just in case. I don't want to take over a chaotic city, nor do I want innocent people to suffer because Anastas City temporarily has no lord."

Two sturdy black horses pulled the carriage toward the East Gate. Perhaps the terror of the previous night had not faded, Anastas City remained dimly lit, with no travelers on the roads.

They left the East Gate smoothly. Ana still shouted, but no one paid her any mind. She tried to struggle, but the day's lesson taught her the tighter she fought, the firmer the silver thread wrapped around her. By now, she was too weak to curse, pulled numbly along by the carriage.

The return of the Dessey Witches from the West Sea Forest after twenty years sparked much talk. But after the battle at Anastas City, one fact was undeniable: the new Lord of the West Sea Forest, Elara Dessey, possessed terrifying combat power and was extremely ruthless.

"Interesting." Wilson MacAdam, with silver hair and the scent of wine, left a small winery. He stroked his neatly trimmed, sexy beard, his eyes gleaming with interest. "I wonder if the new Lord of the West Sea Forest would mind me paying a visit to the forest?"

Two thousand years ago, a group of over a hundred tribesmen under him had strayed into the West Sea Forest. By the time he led the Silver Wolf Clan to track them, it was already too late.

Over these two thousand years, as leader of the MacAdam Tribe, he had asked the Dessey Witches for a visit more than once. Unfortunately, they never played along.

He exhaled deeply, clenched his fist and pressed his aching chest, frowned and scanned the street, then looked up at the bright moon in the night sky in confusion. He chuckled to himself. "Did the blood scent from Anastas City reach Hanidala City?"

It wasn't even midnight, yet sixty percent of the shops on the main street were closed. How amusing!

Wilson MacAdam pressed his tongue against his right cheek, feeling his sharp wolf fangs graze his tip. His calm heart began to stir. He smiled at himself and turned toward Hanidala City's East Gate.

Awoo… Awoo…

The two black horses feared not the wolf howls echoing from the valley. Treading on moonlight, they pulled the carriage swiftly along the mountain path. Inside, Elara absorbed all the moonlight gathering around her, then sank her consciousness into her lower dantian.

Her witch-cultivation method went against the traditional practices of witches on the Mal Continent. With no references, Elara had to explore on her own.

All these years, she had continuously condensed and absorbed moonlight, circulating it through her meridians to turn it into witch power, storing it in her dantian. But the dantian had a fixed capacity. Once her power neared saturation, she purified and compressed it, repeating the process again and again.

It was dull, but she believed persistence paid off. During that long process, her lower dantian had transformed three times. Those changes only strengthened her belief that she was on the right path.

The first transformation: witch power condensed into liquid. With that, her eyes lost their silver hue and turned gray.

The second came seven years ago, one month after she fully mastered the Silver-Winged Eastern Dragon Staff. A single grain of witch sand formed in her lower dantian, and her eyes grew darker, nearly black.

The third transformation happened one year ago. The moment all her liquid witch power condensed into witch sand, her lower dantian fell into complete darkness, and a faint moonlight glow appeared at its eastern edge.

At this realm, she had a premonition: hidden beneath that glow was a new moon. When that moon rose, she would become a Witch Ancestor. Her consciousness brushed over the soft witch sand settled in her dantian, and Elara felt peaceful.

Awoo… Awoo…

Wolf howls sounded again, drawing closer to the path. Cinderaven, dozing with his neck tucked, narrowed his black-bean eyes and glanced disdainfully out the window. These werewolves were so noisy!

Two more howls. Elara could not keep her eyes closed any longer. "It's not even the full moon. Are they fighting for mates or for the throne?"

"Is Wilson MacAdam dead?" As soon as Elara stopped cultivating, Cinderaven flapped a wing and slammed the window shut. He sighed heavily and let his eyelids droop. "Finally quiet."

Elara thought he was dreaming. The black horses suddenly slowed. Several glossy male wolves blocked the path's exit, their green wolf eyes eerie in the dark.

The carriage approached slowly, showing no sign of stopping. Elara pushed open the window Cinderaven had closed, rested her elbow on the windowsill, held her chin, and said casually into the air: "Walking your wolves in the middle of the night isn't very polite."

Before she finished, a silver figure leaped down from the cliff to the right of the path and landed steadily on the carriage roof. Still reeking of wine, Wilson MacAdam held a blade of grass in his mouth, sat with bent legs, and glanced at the thoroughly disheveled Ana Stirling. "Hello there, little Dessey."

Elara sniffed the air. "Hello, old Wolf King." Little Dessey was fine. Among these old fogies, she was indeed very young.

At the title, Wilson MacAdam raised an eyebrow and touched his face. "Am I that old?" He was only four thousand two hundred and nineteen years old—five years younger than Alexander Stirling. "You're okay with Thea Dessey marrying Alexander Stirling, yet you call me old?"

"So you came out in the middle of the night with your wolves just to debate the lifespans of Andros and werewolves?" Elara's tone cooled as the male wolves still blocked the exit.

Wilson MacAdam blinked, then waved the blocking wolves away. "Can we talk now?"

"Go ahead." She didn't care, as long as it didn't delay her journey.

"I want to visit—" Wilson stopped mid-sentence, suddenly unsure how to continue. After all, the one in the carriage was the Lord of the West Sea Forest, and he was already "visiting" her. "How… how is your mother?"

Elara knew why the old Wolf King had come. Ignoring his greeting, she spoke directly. "What proof do you have that your tribesmen were killed by the Dessey Witches?"

"I never said the Dessey Witches killed any MacAdam werewolves." Wilson tapped the carriage. "It's chilly out here. May I come inside to speak with you?"

Cinderaven, whose eyes had been nearly shut, immediately glared at Elara at this shameless request."Caw… caw!" The carriage was too small for a wolf.

Elara stared out the window without moving. "You're getting old. Can a little wind really freeze you to death?"

Alone in a carriage with a man in the middle of the night would ruin her reputation. She hadn't forgotten what her mother called Wilson MacAdam—the lecherous wolf.

Old? Wilson MacAdam thought this girl had a tongue as sharp and poisonous as Merlyn's."May I visit your mother?"

"No," Elara refused coldly, leaving no room for argument. "Like I said: you may bring your clan to invade the West Sea Forest. We welcome you anytime. But if you want to probe the forest under the pretense of a visit, absolutely not."

He expected as much. Though disappointed, Wilson had gained nothing tonight. At least he had seen the new lord of that mysterious forest. She was as unreasonable as her predecessors, but worth watching.

"Little Dessey, may I ask boldly how to win the favor of you Dessey Witches?"

"You've been bold long enough." Elara looked up at the man peering down at her. "If you want to win a woman's heart, no living creature likes someone sitting on top of them."

Awkward. Wilson MacAdam immediately stopped sitting and apologized to Elara while lying on the roof.

Elara closed her eyes to rest, tapped the carriage, and the black horses surged forward. Wilson, not expecting her to turn on him so suddenly, rolled and dug his five clawed fingers into the roof. "Hey, hey! I tore your roof!"

“Perfect. Ten thousand gold coins."Elara grew tired of talking. With a thought, nine hundred ox-hair needles shot straight up through the roof.

Wilson on the roof sensed danger, let go, flipped, and leaped into the air. Before landing, he saw dense, glowing needles piercing upward from the carriage roof and shuddered. "The rumors are true." Little Dessey is truly ruthless."One hit and he'd be a sieve.

Watching the carriage fade away, Wilson decided not to chase. But he would still go to the Andrea Capital. Who didn't love a good show?

Elara dragged Ana toward the Andrea Capital, entering every city she passed and cutting straight through the main streets. Her grand display showed she feared no Andros. As news spread over two days, the Andrea Capital finally decided they could not let things continue and sent an envoy.

"Why me?" Alexander looked unwilling, glancing at the seven ancestor dukes seated. "Aren't you afraid I'll just kill Ana when I get there?"

Duke Alexandra looked at his wife beside him, his meaning clear. Duchess Lisandra fanned herself gently with a blood-red feather fan. "Don't look at me. I don't agree with Alexander going."

Capturing Ana was little Dessey's skill. Besides, she clearly had plans for keeping Ana alive. Alexander going would achieve nothing and might even damage his relationship with Thea.

Amy Miller, seated below her sister Duke Eliza Miller, spoke with a dark face. "The West Sea Forest is as overbearing as ever. Ana is an Andros Viscountess. Treating her like a slave so openly is a clear provocation against us, Andros."

Alexander turned to Amy Miller. "Why don't you go? It's not far." The West Sea Forest's carriage will be in the capital soon."

The blunt sarcasm angered Amy Miller. She slammed her palm on the glass table. "Alexander, mind your status."

Duke Alexandra disliked her scolding her son. "Amy, you insisted Alexander go. Don't blame him for being annoyed."

“I—”

"Enough bickering," Duke Becky Cotton said, flicking her fingers against the table. "No one needs to go. She's already here."

Everyone stood and flashed out of the castle, looking upward. Dense black crows flew into the capital from all directions, circling overhead.