The Virtuous Dark Witch

Chapter 33

"Grandmother," a young man with pale red blood eyes, an open floral collar, and a gold chain around his neck, walked up the stairs to the lighthouse attic. His gaze swept over the crushed glass shards. "I heard Count Alexander has returned to the capital?"

The young man's arrival immediately softened Ana Stirling's previous gloom. She turned with a kind smile and said, "Yade, trust your grandmother. I will get justice for your poor father, and I will reclaim everything he deserved but never received."

She was also the child of Duke Alexandra Stirling. Why was Alexander a count the moment he was born, while she was only a viscount? Why couldn't her beloved son even take the Stirling name? Her father had treated her unfairly.

Was that so? The young man lowered his eyes and smiled faintly. He stepped beside his grandmother, placed both hands on the windowsill, and looked down at Anastas City. "Even if the other party is Count Alexander Stirling, the only son of Duchess Lisandra?"

Ana Stirling stiffened her neck and took a deep breath. The image of her son having his heart torn out by Alexander flashed through her mind again. Her hands at her sides clenched so tightly that her knuckles cracked. She spoke as if emphasizing every word: "Everything your father did was for the Andros. He was completely innocent."

"It's Alexander who doesn't know his place," she said, growing agitated. She snapped angrily, "He's the one in the wrong! He shouldn't have killed his own clansman for a notorious Dark Witch. That was my son. I am his sister!"

The young man was Yade Anastas, son of the deceased former lord of Anastas City, Rocky Anastas. He paid no mind to his grandmother's rage. He lifted a hand and twisted the black mandala Moonlight Gold Coin hanging from his chain. After a long silence, he spoke.

"Count Alexander did not return to the capital alone. Uncle Molyneux sent word that Thea Dessey's transformation went wrong. "

"What?" Ana spun around sharply, panic in her voice. "What went wrong?"

She had gravely injured Alexander back then, certain that old hag Talina Larissa would finish them off. She never expected the arrogant Dessey witch to choose transformation. She hadn't seen Thea Dessey transformed with her own eyes, but the Larissa patriarch Boyle had confirmed that Thea Dessey had lost her ability to communicate with nature.

Yade Anastas frowned and sighed. "Uncle Molyneux says Thea Dessey's eyes turned blood-red. Not only that—she can still use witchcraft and froze him solid."

"What?" Ana was stunned, utterly disbelieving. "Impossible." She grabbed her grandson's arm. "Where is Molyneux's letter?"

If Thea Dessey could still use witchcraft after being transformed, her father would never tolerate her keeping the West Sea Forest. The powerful always craved more power—and the Andros nobles were no exception.

Yade pulled the letter from his pocket and let out a cold, soft snort. "It seems Lord Count Alexander will be getting married very soon." And all her grandmother's years of effort would be for nothing.

After his father's death, after his grandmother had carried his father's body to their great-grandfather to beg and demand the three central cities of Maroni—he should have realized long ago. In their great-grandfather's eyes, Andros nobles like them could never compare to the pure-blooded Alexander Stirling.

Returning to Anastas City again, Elara felt little emotion as she looked at the barely changed streets. But Cinderaven, perched by the window, was displeased."In only twenty years, Anastas City has so many transformed beings. Ana Stirling must have gone mad."

"Why is that strange?" Elara blinked slowly, her gaze out the window unfocused. "The West Sea Forest is vast. If Ana Stirling wants to enclose it, she can't rely only on natural-born Andros."

Besides, after what happened twenty years ago, everyone on the Mal Continent knew Ana Stirling and Alexander were separated by the death of her son. Any Andros noble with sense would stay out of it—especially since Alexander's mother, Duchess Lisandra, was no weakling.

"I know that," Cinderaven said, still unhappy despite seeing it with his own eyes. He moved closer. "How much do you know about the Andros?"

Elara said nothing, still resting her chin on one hand and staring outside.

Cinderaven sighed inwardly. "Natural-born Andros, no matter how pure or noble their blood, can essentially control their bloodthirsty nature."

"It's only a matter of whether they want to," Elara knew what he was getting at. "Bloodthirst is the nature of the Andros. It can't be fundamentally changed." She turned to glance at him. "What are you worried about?"

"I'm not worried," Cinderaven said, frustrated by her indifferent attitude. Who knew what she was really thinking? "I'm just saying the blood trade between Andros nobles and the Rozin people has existed for a long time. It's a fair trade—each takes what they need."

Elara could not argue with that. Without a structured order, coexistence between unequal species was difficult. Exploitation was inevitable. Under such circumstances, reaching a trade agreement was already decent.

And this trend toward the Andros could be thanked to Austin Corell. Rumor had it that he had established the market and set the blood prices.

"Compared to natural-born Andros nobles, the transformed are far more dangerous." He had long opposed Andros nobles recklessly transforming Rozin people for power. "Ninety-five percent of transformed humans come from the Rozin."

"Long oppressed, they crave power and long life above all else. Most of these Rozin deeply hate their origins. Once transformed, they recklessly drink Rozin blood to prove their strength and nobility."

Elara understood what Cinderaven meant. "Are there any Rozin villages left near Anastas City?"

"Only the Luo River Plains were spared because they're close to the West Sea Forest. The rest are gone," Cinderaven said gloomily. "A few moved away after what happened with Fisher. The others… mostly…"

"Is that so?" Elara's gaze passed over a transformed being. Before it could turn around, she closed the window. "The Luo River Plains weren't spared because they're near the forest. They were spared because enclosing the West Sea Forest needs a steady supply of food."

She was finally paying attention. Cinderaven felt his life was difficult. "Ana Stirling knows transformed beings can hardly suppress their bloodthirst if they drink too often. Yet she doesn't restrain them."

Elara smiled faintly, cold light flickering in her eyes. "You're overlooking how much stronger transformed beings become when they lose control." Seeing Cinderaven's bright eyes dim, she concluded, "It's not that Ana won't restrain them." This is exactly what she wants."

It was nearly midnight when they reached the Dessey shop. Elara stepped down from the carriage and stood outside for a long time. Cinderaven perched on the carriage roof and stayed quietly with her. In a way, this was also where his soul had fully awakened.

While Fisher's soul had still occupied his body, even though his own soul had long been separated, he had remained half-asleep under Fisher's pressure. Fortunately, Elara often summoned Dark Spirits, or his consciousness might never have woken.

Elara removed the witchcraft barrier outside the shop and pushed the door open. Everything inside was just as it had been twenty years ago. She gently ran her hand over the counter, walked slowly to the table, and sat in her favorite spot. Memories of happy days from long ago filled her mind.

She glanced around, then stood and walked to the cabinet holding food. Elara knelt and opened the door. The witchcraft light circles inside were still there but dimly lit. She pinched her right fingers, and a dark glow split into streams, pouring into the small orbs. In an instant, the dim lights blazed bright again.

Cinderaven flew inside. "Elara, are you going to open for business now, or rest for the night and plan for tomorrow?"

"I'm not in the mood," Elara closed the cabinet. She sent the horses to the backyard, then went upstairs to her mother's room. Seeing the dresses hanging on the rack, her heart ached sharply. Everything had happened so suddenly.

She lay on the bed, closed her eyes, and breathed in the familiar scent left in the room. In her past life, the matron had been very kind to her. But knowing her place, she had always studied hard, wanting to become someone worthy and repay the matron. She never regretted taking the knife for Hayden.

Only in this life, with both parents alive, did she truly understand: the matron and Mother Merlyn were different. With the matron, she had desperately wanted to grow up fast. With Mother Merlyn, she never wanted to grow up at all.

Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, wetting her long lashes. Elara raised her right hand, and the dresses on the rack floated to her. She held them close, her breathing steadying.

Early the next morning, while most shops on the main road to the Lord's Mansion were still closed, Elara washed and dressed. She went downstairs, opened the shop door, stepped outside, and looked up at the sign, as if considering something.

Cinderaven perched on the second-floor windowsill, leaning down, curious to see what unexpected move the new Lord of the West Sea Forest would make.

She did not disappoint. Elara flipped her right hand, scooped up a handful of black mandala seeds, and tossed them into the air. Using witchcraft, she guided the seeds to spread evenly over the shop's walls and roof. In an instant, they sprouted, took root, grew leaves, budded, and bloomed. Within two minutes, the shop was completely transformed.

Cinderaven stared at the thriving black mandalas and flapped his wings in awe. Incredible… truly incredible. On the entire Mal Continent, only a few Rozin did not know the black mandala represented the Dessey Witches.

This was a loud, clear announcement to Ana Stirling: the Dessey Witch she had been hunting had returned.

Elara was pleased with how the mandalas had grown. She plucked one, breathed in its scent, then tossed it at the gray stone above the door. The mandala sank into the stone, and a lifelike silverstamen black mandala emblem appeared.

She carried a chair to the shop entrance, opened the Nether Box holding two hundred and eighteen Moonlight Rings, and tossed it lightly. The wideopen box landed steadily on the chair.

In the bright sunlight, the Moonlight Rings inside still glowed with faint moonlight.

Cinderaven did not idle. He flew in carrying a yellowed piece of paper. Elara took it, uncaring that it was small, and wrote swiftly: Moonlight Rings — 1,000 gold coins each. She told Cinderaven to place it on the lid of the Nether Box.

The commotion was loud. And many Andros in Anastas City wore Moonlight Rings and walked about during the day. Within half an hour, word reached the Lord's Mansion.

Ana Stirling had just entered her room and was pressing down on her new lover, ready for a pleasurable "struggle"—when the door knocked. She roared in anger. But at the sound of Yade Anastas's voice from outside, she reluctantly climbed out of bed.

She wrapped herself in a thin silk robe, took the cup of blood from her nightstand, and took a sip. Ana opened the door, gave her grandson a reproachful glare, and leaned against the doorframe. "What is so urgent?"

Yade Anastas apologized."Grandmother… Shop 132 on the East District has opened."

Ana froze midsip. But after only a moment, she continued drinking. She swallowed loudly and asked, "Confirm it's the Dessey Witch?"

"Confirmed," Yade rubbed his eyes. "The Dessey shop isn't just open—it's doing business. Guess what they're selling?"

Ana Stirling sneered. "Whatever it is, if she's here, she's not leaving." She needed a guide to enter the West Sea Forest.

Yade frowned. "Don't celebrate yet." He crossed his arms and bit his lower lip. "This one is clearly hostile." She covered the outside in black mandalas and put a whole box of Moonlight Rings on a chair outside with a price tag.

It was blatant provocation. He hoped his grandmother would not underestimate her.

"Is that so?" Ana finished the blood in her cup. Her blood-shot eyes blazed with excitement. She licked the blood from her lips."Merlyn Dessey has another daughter. Boyle said her name was Elara Dessey. By now, she must be around thirty."

If that was true, Yade had nothing more to say. Even with great talent, a thirty-year-old witch could not be that strong.

"I'll make arrangements at once."

Before Yade could turn, Ana added, "Find a chance to transform her." I need to enter the West Sea Forest."

“Understood.”

Elara's bold display drew the attention of the Andros. Passersby on the street could not help but look back repeatedly. The neighbors were even more curious, and onlookers gathered specially. But once they saw she was selling Moonlight Rings, none dared stay long.

Elara lay on the long leather chair behind the counter, tossing and turning uncomfortably. She desperately needed a proper lounge chair. Business required patience—and how could she have patience if she couldn't even lie comfortably?

She sat up, grabbed paper and a brush, and drew a design. If no customers came soon, she would close up and find a carpenter to make one.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a dark-skinned female Andros in luxurious white silk entered the shop. She did not look at the counter, only gazed around the shop nostalgically.

Elara glanced at her and knew exactly who she was. She lay back on the leather chair, rested her right hand behind her head, closed her eyes, and said coldly: "Moonlight Rings are one thousand gold coins each. Pay and take one, or get out. I have no time or mood for old acquaintances who aren't friendly to the Dessey Witches."

Juna Charlotte was not offended by the rude words. She turned and stepped around the counter, ready to scold her—until she saw the silverstamen black mandala crown on Elara's head. Her eyes narrowed, pain flashing through them. "L-Lord Kelly has left?"

Of course. If Lord Kelly were here, she would never let this girl act so recklessly.

Elara's lips curved slightly. She did not open her eyes, only breathed deeply. "You reek of blood. You've drunk a lot of… human blood these twenty years, haven't you?"

How dare she be so rude after knowing who she was? Juna Charlotte's face darkened. She suppressed her expression and said sternly: "I only drink Rozin blood. They are lowly creatures."

"Lowly?" Elara raised an eyebrow dismissively and slowly opened her eyes. "Has the former young chieftain of the Charlotte Tribe forgotten you were once human too, before you were transformed?"

Her calm, clear eyes flicked over Juna's shocked expression. Elara was not surprised. "Ana Stirling wouldn't have control over the Charlotte Tribe's Moonlight without your help, would she?"

"You… you…" How was this possible? Merlyn's daughter was still so young—and her eyes…

Juna Charlotte did not even hear Elara's question. She lunged forward, wanting to examine those mysterious lightblack eyes. But before her hand could touch, a powerful force threw her out of the shop. She slammed into the middle of the street.

A group of Andros wearing Moonlight Rings happened to pass by. Seeing one of their own attacked, they lost their tempers. The tall, strong leader cursed and flashed forward to snatch the Nether Box of Moonlight Rings.

It seemed she would not be leaving today. Elara's eyes narrowed slightly. She twisted her left hand, and two thin needles, finer than cow hair and glowing darkly, appeared between her fingers. She threw them outward.

The needles pierced the wall in an instant and struck the tall man mid-grab, lifting him high into the air. A shrill scream sent pedestrians scattering like frightened birds.

The man crashed to the ground, raising clouds of dust. Before he could recover from the pain, he tried to scramble up—but as his upper body lifted, a pair of black deerskin ladies' boots appeared before him. No wide skirt, only a silvergray hem reaching her ankles, fluttering cleanly in the wind.

The street fell deadly silent. The Andros man's heart turned cold. He slowly lifted his head. A slender woman with black hair falling loose looked down at him as if he were nothing but a dead thing.

Elara had seen enough. She lifted her right foot and stepped on the man's finger wearing a Moonlight Ring. Before he could react, she kicked hard with her left.

Blood burst forth—but not a single drop touched Elara. Along with a scream, the flying Andros man dissolved into smoke and dust under the sunlight, settling onto the street.

Hiss… hiss…

Loud intakes of breath came from the crowd. Both Andros and ordinary people shuddered. Even Juna Charlotte, dust on her white dress, trembled. She stared unblinkingly at the young witch.

What had Merlyn's daughter been through to become so cold?

Elara lifted her foot from the severed finger. The Moonlight Ring fell free, and the finger turned to ash.

She smiled, flicked the blood-stained ring back into the Nether Box on the chair, and asked softly as if nothing had happened: "No one wants to buy a Moonlight Ring?"

The motionless Andros backed away at once. They stared at the woman in the street, sizing her up and guarding against her.

Juna Charlotte also stepped back. "He disrespected you." If you wanted his life, why use such cruel methods?" She spoke like a concerned elder. "The Dessey Witches already have a bad reputation for arrogance. Acting like this will only make people fear you more."

"Do you know why my mother looked down on you?" Elara sneered. "Because you think far too highly of yourself." And what's wrong with being feared?"

Hadn't Rocky Anastas and the Larissa Clan dared to covet the West Sea Forest precisely because they did not fear the Dessey Witches enough?

"You…" Juna was furious, but she had no reply.

Elara had no patience for this. Seeing they refused to leave, she whistled playfully. "You're not here to buy Moonlight Rings, yet you won't go." She turned to the Andros and lowered her gaze. "Did you come to bring me Moonlight Rings instead?"

The hundred or so Andros could not stand her arrogance. They shouted as one: "Attack!"

A hundred shadows lunged at Elara. Her eyes sharpened, and she flashed upward into the air. With a thought, two hundred hair-thin needles materialized around her.

Before the Andros could follow, she flipped her hand and pressed downward. The needles, as if alive, pierced every Andros—all but one.

Screams exploded down the street. Elara flashed upward again, and the pierced Andros rose like puppets on strings.

When the height was right, Elara clenched her hands. Witchcraft exploded inside the Andros. Blood and flesh filled the air. The two hundred needles returned clean to her Upper Dantian, merging into one.

Once the remains had settled as dust, Elara landed. She glanced at the Moonlight Rings scattered across the ground, then turned to Juna Charlotte, still standing at the corner. "Go tell Ana Stirling: I left the West Sea Forest to collect a debt."