The Virtuous Dark Witch

Chapter 13

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck. The inside of the ring felt like it had ten thousand needles piercing into her flesh, quickly penetrating the bone. Elara's eyes widened, her silver-gray pupils bulging. She opened her mouth, took a breath, and held it, gritting her teeth against the excruciating pain. Her right hand clutched her thigh tightly, and her whole body trembled involuntarily.

The ring on her left thumb slowly absorbed the blood on its surface, gradually emitting a dim light. Just as it fully fused with the blood, the bright moon outside the window suddenly dimmed, and thousands of stars instantly shone brightly.

A wisp of moonlight, as if alive, passed through the glass window and wrapped around the ring. The excruciating pain grew more intense—so painful that her soul screamed.

The black crow perched on the clothes rack by the bed watched everything silently, not making a sound.

"Ah," unable to hold back the cry of pain, Elara quickly closed her mouth and bit down hard on her teeth. At this time, her mother and aunt were probably gathering Moonlight Power. Although it hurt, she could feel that the ring meant no harm—it was merging with her.

Pain… endless pain. There was only one word in Elara's mind: hold on. Blood vessels gradually appeared in her eyes, spreading rapidly. She bit her teeth so hard that her gums cracked, and blood seeped out of her tightly closed lips. Her body couldn't support itself and fell forward, curling into a ball. Her left hand clawed tightly at the white raw stone windowsill.

The black color on the surface of the ring on her thumb began to flow and gather, revealing the ring's silver surface. A thin thread of blood gradually appeared in the middle of the ring, weaving into the swirling black.

Plop…

A drop of sweat fell on the windowsill. The dead silence of the night couldn't mask the sound. In the blink of an eye, Elara was soaked in sweat. Her eyes were no longer bulging—her gaze dimmed as she grew numb to the pain. Her lips slowly relaxed, and she collapsed onto the windowsill like a pile of mud.

The wisp of moonlight wrapped around the ring seemed to grow tired of it. It detached itself, wrapped around Elara's plump wrist, and then surged into her meridians. Elara, who had just gone numb, seemed to be stimulated. Her hands, which had just relaxed, suddenly dug into the white raw stone, and her whole body tensed like a string.

Her silver-gray pupils were now covered with red blood vessels. Blood flowed from the corner of her mouth into her ear. A faint moonlight began to emanate from her body…

Early the next morning, the red sun rose above the eastern horizon. A ray of sunlight shone on the white Lord's Mansion of Anastas City. Elara, who was lying on the windowsill like a dead pig, had a spark of light ignite in her empty eyes. Her thick, curly eyelashes fluttered gently. Her dry lips pursed slightly, and she swallowed with difficulty. Then, the corners of her mouth slowly curved upward.

Damn it—it had hurt for a full six hours. She had finally made it through. She smiled triumphantly at the red sun, then slowly closed her sore eyes. Her black curly hair spread out on the white windowsill, looking even shinier.

In her dream, she had wings, flying happily like a little elf in a dense forest. She climbed onto deer antlers, teased silkworms climbing on trees, and drank morning dew—doing whatever made her happy.

Perhaps she was too happy, because darkness suddenly enveloped her. She lost her way, and everything around her disappeared in an instant. The darkness was silent. She felt terrified, but tried her best to stay calm, wanting to call out to her grandmother, mother, and aunt. But her mouth felt sewn shut—she couldn't make a sound.

"Ah… Arnold…"

A strange chant sounded. She flapped her wings and turned to look at the source. A blurry black figure raised a dagger covered with silver powerful lines and glowing faintly, stabbing downward. Her heart stopped. Something warm and sticky splattered onto her face…

Her eyes suddenly opened. The blood vessels in her silver-gray pupils had completely faded. Elara held her breath and sat up abruptly. Her frightened gaze swept around—everything was so unfamiliar. But she remembered where she was. She exhaled, her mouth dry.

She pushed herself off the windowsill with both hands, walked to the table, picked up the glazed teapot directly, and drank from the spout in large gulps. After drinking half the pot, Elara felt more comfortable. She put down the teapot, burped, and wiped her mouth contentedly. But the blurry figure from her dream lingered. Her eyes darkened as she muttered: "Who was that?"

She raised her hand to rub her eyebrows, and a delicate ring caught her eye. Elara stared at the ring on her left thumb, stunned.

After last night, the ring had completely changed. It was no longer a black, rusted mess, but it still looked ancient. Its surface was now silver, glowing with a dark night sheen. A silver-stamped black mandala attached to an ink-colored vine was vividly carved on the ring. She had a feeling that this black mandala was alive.

She touched it lightly—her finger passed right through the surface, as if the silver ring didn't exist. But she could clearly feel it on her left thumb—they were one.

"Why does this feel like I'm haunted?" Elara frowned and rubbed her left thumb vigorously. A thought crossed her mind. She tried speaking to the ring: "Can I touch you? Just to make sure this isn't a dream?" As soon as she finished speaking, she felt a solid touch under her hand. “Huh…”

Was she really haunted? Elara pinched it—the ring was silver but hard. She smiled bitterly: "Can we make a deal? Can you let me touch you like this?"

Once, she had been a modern young person who only believed in science. Now… it was hard to put into words. Her worldview had completely collapsed. She needed to reshape her correct thinking—otherwise, she would be eliminated sooner or later.

Feeling frustrated, she put her hands on her hips and scanned the room. Her eyes stopped on the clothes rack by the bed. Elara stepped forward: "You're the one." She suddenly attacked the napping black crow, rubbing it roughly.

Caw… caw…

The black crow screamed, trying to flap its wings and escape, but the evil claws followed like a shadow. In the end, it was directly pressed onto the bed and squeezed like mud. Just as the black crow was about to peck the little girl, a beautiful voice came from outside the door.

"Elara…"

Merlyn knocked on the door: "May I come in?"

The "battle" in the room finally stopped. Elara let go of the black crow, whose feathers were all standing on end. She glanced at the sky, jumped out of bed, and went to greet her mother.

Merlyn pushed open the door holding a tray of food. When she saw her little treasure with a black down feather stuck on her upturned nose, she frowned. She had heard the crow's cry for help outside the door. Looking past the little one, she saw the black crow lying listlessly on the white bed with its wings drooping.

"What did you do?" Merlyn sniffed—the room still smelled a bit stale. She blew gently into the air, and a fresh breeze suddenly arose, making the room fresh again.

"Cinderaven's feathers were always messy. I was grooming them." Elara let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling at ease—she had fully accepted the reality.

Really? Merlyn glanced at Cinderaven again. Its feathers looked even messier than before. She held the tray with one hand and pulled her little treasure toward her with the other. "Are you hungry? I asked the kitchen to make you jellyfish soup, pan-fried beef eye fillet, and bread."

"Thank you, Mother." Elara smacked her lips. She had consumed a lot last night—she was indeed very hungry.

"I came by this morning, but you were sleeping soundly, so I didn't wake you." In fact, she had smelled the familiar scent of blood last night and knew what had happened. Just as recorded in the West Sea Witch Ancestor's journal, once a sacred artifact gained consciousness, it would instinctively form a mysterious owner-binding ritual called "Spirit Condensing."

The "Spirit Condensing" process was accompanied by rebirth and great pain. But if one could endure it, the owner would successfully merge with the sacred artifact, which would then become part of the owner's body. Her little Elara had extraordinary willpower—she was so proud of her.

Elara sat down at the table and looked down at her dress, which was as stiff as dried loach. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The room hadn't smelled good earlier, but she hadn't noticed. Now, it really smelled sour and stinky.

"Mother, have you noticed any changes in me?"

Merlyn smiled affectionately: "You've become even more beautiful." She brushed her hand over Elara's hair, which had turned black again—golden color spread through it once more.

She really was her biological mother. Elara's eyes crinkled with laughter: "I want to take a bath first."

"Do you need Mother's help?"

"No, thank you." Elara shook her head immediately. "Wait for me—I'll be right back."

"Okay." Merlyn's eyes flicked over her daughter's plump left thumb, and the smile on her lips widened. "Mother will get you a clean dress." A sharp glint flashed in her eyes—someone had been restless last night.

Of course, they had noticed. Although they associated with sunlight, the change in Moon Glow and the stars were hard to hide. How could they have ignored it?

But with her here, they wouldn't dare to act recklessly. Fortunately, after "Spirit Condensing," the Life Spirit Ring had completely changed its appearance. It would be difficult for those hypocrites to investigate.

After taking a refreshing bath and eating her fill, Elara finally felt completely comfortable again. "Mother, is there any activity tonight?" If not, she would test the Life Spirit Ring to see if it would speed up her Moonlight Power gathering.

Merlyn looked out the window—it was getting dark. "It's still early. Rest for a while longer." The little one's complexion had improved a lot. She had felt so sorry for her when she checked on her this morning.

"Alright." Elara saw her mother to the door. After watching her leave, she couldn't wait to lock the door, flipped onto the windowsill, sat cross-legged, and closed her eyes to communicate with all things around her. As expected, she quickly entered an indescribable state.

A winged elf girl who looked exactly like her stood in a field of black mandalas bathed in silver moonlight. The faint moonlight fell on her like a silver veil. Her consciousness sank into the elf girl's body, gradually merging with her—she was the elf girl, and the elf girl was her.

Ah…

Her left ear twitched slightly. Elara opened her eyes. After several hours of cultivation, her silver-gray eyes were bright. She looked up at the hanging moon—it was already late at night. Her mother hadn't called her. What was that sound just now?

She climbed down from the windowsill, put on her deer skin boots, and left her room. The house was quiet, but the lights were on. She turned toward the main door, went up to the third floor, and followed the sound, carefully distinguishing the direction and adjusting her steps.

She had taken less than ten steps when she suddenly stopped and turned around. Elara pouted her pink little mouth: "It's in the middle of the night. Can you not come out and scare children?"

"I thought you said you weren't an ordinary child?" Alexander Stirling, with his loose wine-red curly hair, was wearing a white shirt with a ruffled collar, half of the buttons undone. He was barefoot, stepping on the soft woolen carpet as he slowly walked up to Elara and squatted down. "Hello, little Dessey."

"Hello, Earl Alexander Stirling." Elara looked at the man dressed like a playboy. Besides his extraordinary good looks, he didn't look like a noble Andros at all. "Did that woman make the sound just now?"

Alexander nodded: "She wasn't obedient, so I'm starving her."

Elara didn't ask any more questions. "Enjoy yourself. I'll go back to my room first." She turned and left.

Alexander watched the little girl walk past him without hesitation, raising his eyebrows. "Wait." He flashed in front of her, blocking her path. "The silver edelweiss last night was beautiful." There was a smile in his blood-red eyes.

"Then you should talk to my aunt." Elara thought for a moment. "When it's your birthday, if my aunt happens to be short of money, maybe you'll see it again."

"You're very interesting." Alexander sat down on the floor. "I'm quite free right now."

The real reason his father had sent him to Anastas City was to find traces of Duke Corell, even though the official story was that he was looking for a suitable human to bear his children. Unfortunately, he had found nothing so far—much to his frustration.

"My time is precious." Elara suppressed her inappropriate thoughts, lifted her little foot, but hesitated to take a step forward. "When I left the West Sea Forest, I promised to bring gifts for my family." Was her meaning clear?

Alexander laughed: "What kind of gifts do you want to prepare?"

Elara put her foot down, her little eyes staring at Alexander, feeling a little guilty. "Well… I thought the Blood Rose glazed card you gave me last time was very beautiful."

"You want to use it as a gift?" Alexander smiled to himself—the little girl had good taste. "I'll give you more."

"Thank you." Elara held up her two little hands and pretended to count. Alexander watched her curl up her short, chubby fingers one by one, frowning and smiling bitterly. "Does your family have that many members?"

Elara stopped, knowing she had pushed it far enough. "We have my grandmother, mother, father, aunt, two older brothers, two old horses, a flock of black crows…"

"Wait." He understood the first part, but what about the rest? "Do the black crows and old horses count too?"

Elara looked at him sincerely: "They're all family to me."