The Virtuous Dark Witch

Chapter 49

Elara Dessey looked into Cinderaven's bright black bean-like eyes. She suspected he was spreading rumors again. She raised her hand and tapped the carriage, and the two black horses pulled over to the side.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cinderaven studied little Dessey's expression. Unfortunately, he could pick up nothing but faint amusement. But his intuition told him she did not quite believe what he had said. "I'm telling the truth." That lecherous wolf and the Rozin woman were staring straight at each other. "

"Is that so? Then that's hardly innocent," Elara said, looking away. "Though I was just wondering—why did you choose to seal your soul inside a black crow back then?" She turned her gaze out the window.

They were in Beryada Valley. Just beyond it lay a Rozin village. Roxane Mullin must have grown hungry by now.

Had he really had a choice back then? Cinderaven lowered his eyes and glanced at his own body. Lord Vazhena had only given him three options: a black horse, a black crow, and a third choice he did not want to mention.

To be a horse meant pulling carts or being ridden. It was far freer to be a black crow. He might be ugly, but he was much prettier than a bat. He could fly, tasted bad to predators, and could rest on a horse's head when tired.

When he did not answer, Elara did not mind. "Have you stayed in West Sea Forest this entire time… for two thousand years?"

"Mhm," Cinderaven said, looking at the fully grown Elara. Memories of the first time he saw her surfaced in his mind. "My soul was severely injured. After being sealed inside this crow, I had no choice but to fall into a deep sleep. That sleep lasted two thousand years—until one day, a faint, indistinct power began calling to me."

"Once, twice… on and off." As that calling grew stronger, my soul finally awakened in the sixth year. But the wounds on my soul hadn't healed, which is why I seemed so dull."

A calling power. Elara understood. When she was young, after discovering she could communicate with dark spirits, she had often summoned them out of curiosity—including black crows. "Were you in the ancient tomb?"

"Something like that," Cinderaven sighed. "Can we stop talking about things that sadden a bird?" Lord Vazhena had seemed gentle and polite to him, yet her heart was as black as his feathers.

Before falling asleep, he had clearly asked her to place him in a tomb by the West Sea. She had not agreed, but she had not refused either. When he woke, all he saw was black mud—stinking black mud. Vazhena had simply tossed him outside the ancient tomb, not even wasting a Nether box on him.

Two thousand years. All he had been covered in was rotting leaves and mud. Thankfully, the crow's claws had been facing upward. It had taken him three days to dig himself out. If not for the fierce, brutal little spirits inside the tomb, he would have flown straight to Vazhena's grave to shake the mud off.

Sensing the thick sorrow surrounding Cinderaven, Elara rarely showed mercy and decided to drop the subject. "Two thousand years ago, my great-grandfather secretly left West Sea Forest for Glass Fireless Forest. Was it because of Duke Austin Corell?"

"No," he had thought she would never ask. "Duke Austin Corell had already met his misfortune by then." But the last message he received before that was also related to the Charlotte Tribe."

Elara's lips curved into a smile. She reached out and stroked Cinderaven's head, her voice softening. "Can you tell me what that message was?"

He could tell her—but could she please move her hand away from his fragile head first? Cinderaven shrank his neck, pressing his wings tightly against his body. "Kismet Charlotte, chief of the Charlotte Tribe, received a dream vision from the Moon Goddess Selene. She saw the end of her life."

As for what the vision entailed, he had no idea.

A dream vision? Elara thought of something. Her aunt had told her another branch of the Andros clan was targeting the forest elves. Could the death of the former Charlotte chief be linked to her vision? Had her great-grandfather been the one to act?

Cinderaven had no idea what Elara was thinking, but he ducked his head as low as it would go. His beak rested on the long table, and his heart turned icy cold. "Do you have any more questions?"

"Not for now," Elara withdrew her hand. She parted her lips softly and chanted a witch spell. A tiny black bat landed on the window, chirped a few times, and flew away.

"Wilson Macadam has left with his wolves. Let's keep going."

"That ended quickly," Cinderaven's mood soured. "Wilson Macadam is all show."They had better catch up soon.

Elara chuckled lightly. "He didn't meet Roxane in secret. I suspect Wilson Macadam only stopped her to confirm one thing. As the king of the Silver Wolf Tribe, Wilson is no simple werewolf."

"That Roxane won't last long either. She should reach the Rozin village outside the valley soon," Cinderaven said gloomily. "Are we still following her?"

"We'll wait for her in Rodrik Valley," Elara took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. With that so-called nightmare hanging over her, Roxane would not harm anyone for now. Elara could not keep tailing her forever.

Cinderaven was astonished. "How did you know Duke Austin Corell's body is in Rodrik Valley? I don't think I ever said that."

Elara let out a faint laugh. "Twenty years ago, Fisher awakened near Anastas City." Rodrik Valley is the place near Anastas City most favored by the sun god Apollo. Legends say sunlight has no effect on Duke Austin Corell, but I've always believed it must affect him somewhat. Besides, strong sunlight is an advantage for the Light Witches."

"You're planning to use Roxane as a scout?" Truly cunning. But he liked it. For twenty years, the Larissa family hadn't moved his body. They must have thought the location safe and secret. But that was not good news for them.

"I have no choice," Elara lowered her eyelashes. "The sunlight in Rodrik Valley is far too intense." Her beloved dark spirits could not go deep inside. Caution was key. Better let Roxane go first. Without Cinderaven's soul, even if she obtained Austin Corell's body, it would be useless to her.

Thinking of the great war twenty years ago, Cinderaven also agreed caution was wise. "Talina Larissa is dead. I wonder who the Larissa family sent to guard Duke Austin Corell's body now?"

"I don't know, but they're definitely stronger than Talina Larissa." The Larissa family had a witch ancestor. That was what worried Elara. She was only one step away from becoming a Witch Ancestor herself—but that one step was a world of difference.

"Fisher taking over Brett Hall's body… Benily Larissa might not know, but that doesn't mean no one in the Larissa family is aware."

Cinderaven nodded solemnly. "If they do know, the Larissa family will never want Duke Austin Corell to return to Andrea Capital."

"Well said," Elara tapped her finger lightly on the long table. "The Larissa family is large. Perhaps their refusal to compete for the Light Priest position isn't just because they lack the strength. They might be lying low for now."But given the chance, they would eliminate her—a thorn in their side—at all costs.

"Then… are we still going after Duke Austin Corell's body?" Cinderaven sensed the danger and wavered. "Should we wait until you become a Witch Ancestor first?"

Elara glanced at him, then looked out the window. "Don't you care about Duke Austin Corell's honor anymore?"

A wolf shadow leaped down from a nearby hilltop and sprinted toward them. Something felt very wrong tonight.

Honor could never compare to her life. Cinderaven also spotted the wolf shadow. He obediently closed his beak and fell silent, though his eyes were filled with disdain. It was no wonder that the lecherous wolf was poor—he had nothing but free time.

"Hey, little Dessey." Wilson Macadam did not dare climb onto her carriage roof this time. The b****y lesson of ten thousand gold coins made him keep a proper distance from the precious carriage from West Sea Forest."What a coincidence."

"Out walking your wolves again?" Elara smiled faintly. Did the Macadam Silver Wolf Tribe serve the Andros clan? They only moved at night.

Wilson Macadam forced a smile. "You were in East Fir Forest that night, weren't you?"

So he really was here to ask about that. Elara nodded. "I just happened to pass by." Why?”

"Did you see anything?" He hated losing control. It made him uneasy.

Elara shook her head. "I saw nothing." Men cared about their pride. She understood and supported that.

"Nothing?" Wilson did not believe her. "You must have seen something. I heard that Rozin woman begging you for help. Didn't you feel anything?"

"Feel what?" She could detect power fluctuations, so she would not be affected by them.

Wilson stared into Elara's eyes, carefully studying her expression. His playfulness vanished, and he grew serious. Fine. She was going to play dumb to the end. But this only confirmed his suspicion: the Rozin woman was trouble.

"Are you heading back to Anastas City now?"

“Yes. I'm going to announce my identity as Lord," Elara said. As the carriage exited the valley, she tapped it again. The two black horses immediately broke into a gallop.

Wilson was truly glad he had not climbed onto the roof. He followed the wind."When will Anastas City open to the public?" It was time for the Macadam Tribe to settle down. Otherwise, they would end up poor sooner or later.

"Very soon." She was already thinking about the future development of Anastas City—and whether they should build walls around the Rho River Plains.

Wilson's eyes lit up. "If the Macadam Tribe settles in Anastas City, would Lord Elara welcome us?"

Exactly what she wanted. Elara spoke casually. "You're welcome anytime." When Wilson stopped following after hearing her answer, she closed the window and prepared to continue cultivating.

Having the Macadam Tribe settle in Anastas City would help restrain the witches and the Andros clan in the city, making life easier for the Rozin people. But to truly control Anastas City amid so many factions, she—as Lord—had to be strong.

They galloped all the way. By noon on the third day after leaving Andrea Capital, the carriage from West Sea Forest arrived outside Anastas City. Elara let the two black horses take the carriage to a shaded spot to graze. She took Cinderaven and headed for Rodrik Valley. "Are you sure Duke Austin Corell's body is inside the valley?"

This was the third time she had asked. Cinderaven nodded firmly. "Positive." The other end of his soul cord was inside the valley.

Elara narrowed her slightly dark, beautiful eyes. "I understand."

"The sunlight is strong now." We'll wait until later, then I'll fly into Rodrik Valley to scout," Cinderaven felt uneasy. "If things look dangerous, we won't go in." As long as he stopped thinking about it, he wouldn't feel nauseated.

Little Dessey was not Selah Dessey. Selah would have charged into the Alsace Mountains of the Larissa family with her eyes closed. But he could not let little Dessey rush blindly into Rodrik Valley.

“Alright. I'll listen to you," Elara walked toward the shade of the mountain, planning to find a hidden spot to wait for Roxane. Roxane had been inside once. She should still remember the way—otherwise she would not have left Redney Manor so decisively.

"Aren't you going to hesitate at all?" Cinderaven was surprised by how quickly she agreed. It made him feel worthless in her eyes.

"Hesitate about what?" Risking her life was not her style. Elara raised a hand to adjust the black mandala crown on her head. The meaning was clear: she was not alone.

Deep at the bottom of the Sunken Sun Pit in Rodrik Valley stood a white-haired, youthful-looking woman wearing a golden hooded robe that dragged along the ground. She stood beside the Mercury Pond, staring silently at its surface. The mercury inside glinted silver under the blazing sun, harsh to the eyes. Yet the woman did not look away, as if lost in thought. Her bright golden eyes held obvious emotion.

"Today is the first of September. Two thousand and eighty-three years," the woman murmured. "I still can't forget you. You haven't forgotten me either, have you? After all, two thousand and eighty-three years ago today, I dealt you a fatal blow. I turned you, born noble, into a prisoner of the Larissa family."

Overwhelmed by feeling, she slowly walked to the opposite side of the Mercury Pond. She looked down at the birch pillar driven into the rock. Her hand hidden in her sleeve tightened slowly, but she did not act. "Don't blame me." Five hundred years of neglect… my heart turned cold long ago."

Memories flooded back. When Witch Ancestor Monrali had sent her to Corell Manor, she had naively thought she could be the special one. But for five hundred years, she had tried and tried. All she had managed was to make him remember her name. How was she supposed to bear that?

Finally unable to resist the longing in her heart, the woman slowly raised her right hand and gathered witch power. Her delicate fingers turned into claws and pulled upward. The birch pillar embedded in the rock shifted, rising little by little. As it lifted, the Mercury Pond stirred, rippling softly.

She only wanted one look. After that, she would sink him back to the bottom. Witch Ancestor Fisher would not mind.

The ripples in the pond grew larger. The woman's heartbeat quickened. When the birch pillar was halfway pulled out, a man bound by chains floated to the surface. Mercury on his body formed tiny beads that rolled about. The woman held her breath unconsciously.

Looking at him like this, she felt a flicker of regret. Her heart hardened. She clenched her fingers and pulled upward with all her strength. The entire birch pillar tore free from the rock. The chains locking the man's limbs vanished instantly.

The woman stretched out her left hand. A wisp of soft white witch power flew toward the man at the center of the pond. But before it could reach him, it dissipated for no reason. The woman's face changed. She immediately poured out more power. Yet no matter how strong her witchcraft was, it could not get close.

"How can this be?"

She only wanted to touch him. Was that too much to ask? Tears glistened in her golden eyes. She sat cross-legged, staring unblinkingly at the man in the pond.

He was the founding ancestor of the Andros clan, yet unlike the other seven, he was not romantic. That was what made him most attractive—and most deadly.

Witch Ancestor Monrali said he had deeply loved Selah Dessey. She had refused to believe it… until Vazhena Dessey, a descendant of Selah, walked into Corell Manor as if it were her own home.

Austin was extremely territorial and hated outside intrusion. Yet Vazhena Dessey could enter the central castle of Corell Manor without any obstruction. Not even the other Andros ancestors had received such an honor.

Watching the tiny mercury beads roll from his hair, the woman felt a strange sense of peace. Tenderness softened her face.

Austin's hair was darker than that of the other Andros ancestors—like congealed blood, red so deep it was almost black. It was unique on the Mal Continent, noble and faintly wild. But he never let it grow long, always keeping it above his shoulders.

Noon passed. The sun began to set. Cinderaven kicked his legs and flapped his wings, flying as high as he could. Elara tilted her head up, squinting at his struggling figure, and chuckled softly. When he flew away, she turned west. Roxane should be arriving soon.

Cinderaven flew alone high above Rodrik Valley, beating his wings hard. He followed his soul cord straight toward the Sunken Sun Pit. When he saw the barren ground outside the pit, his heart sank. Vegetation grew well everywhere else—why was this place completely lifeless?

He flew slowly, drawing closer to his own body. As he neared the Sunken Sun Pit, he flew higher, just as he had expected. The Larissa family had hidden his body inside the Sunken Sun Pit. Elara had been right: sunlight did affect him, after all.

Blazing sunlight could not hurt him, but it could suppress his power.

Compared to night, at midday, when sunlight was strongest, it could suppress up to twenty percent of his strength. And they attacked him exactly when the sun was at its peak. Even though he had seen it coming, he still felt deeply unhappy.

He flew across the Sunken Sun Pit and glanced down. He did not dare look too closely. But when he saw what was at the bottom, he nearly choked and fainted. Thinking of Elara waiting outside the valley, he quickly flapped his wings and flew straight ahead, not daring to look again.

The red sun hung high over the western mountains. Cinderaven returned and threw himself into Elara's arms. "We're done. Duke Austin Corell's honor is completely ruined."

Unfortunately, Elara did not share his despair. She lifted him away in disgust. "Did you see Duke Austin Corell's body?"

Cinderaven looked utterly defeated. "I saw him." And there's an old witch guarding him."The worst part was, he would recognize that witch even if she turned to ash."There must be poison near the Sunken Sun Pit in Rodrik Valley."He was sure there hadn't been any before."Do you know Windis Larissa?"

"I do." At the name, Elara's smile faded. "She's Talina Larissa's aunt. Rumor has it that she has exceptional talent but rarely appears in public. The Dessey clan records had notes about Windis Larissa, though not many."Is she the one guarding Duke Austin Corell's body?"

Guarding him? Cinderaven remembered that old witch had coveted him for ages. No need to think—she was definitely doing all kinds of things to his body.

Seeing Cinderaven's heartbroken look, Elara hesitated. "Should we just go back?" Windis Larissa had already reached a profound realm when her great-grandfather died. Elara valued her life.

"No!" Cinderaven lifted one wing to cover his face. He was about to wail further when his beak was suddenly pinched. Elara grabbed him and darted into thick grass.

On the path not far away, a shadow stretched long. Roxane appeared moments later, stopping at the crossroads and looking around as if searching for something. Soon, she turned south.

Only after confirming Roxane had left did Elara release Cinderaven's beak from the shadows. "Does Duke Austin Corell have strong self-healing abilities?" She had never met Windis Larissa, but anyone sent here must be formidable. She was glad she had brought her two Dark Netherfire Bombs.

"If we really can't beat her, throw a Dark Netherfire Bomb at Duke Austin Corell," Cinderaven's eyes flashed coldly. "Windis Larissa will never let you hurt him."

"Are you sure?" Something about that sounded off to her. "Does Duke Austin Corell have… an unusual relationship with Windis Larissa?" She almost said the words "illicit affair," but Cinderaven glared at her warningly, so she sensibly changed her question. She turned and flew toward the north side of Rodrik Valley.

Cinderaven huffed and said firmly, "No." If not for finding a way to break the Twin Holy Spirits Curse, he would never have let any Larissa witch step into his Corell Manor.

Everyone wanted to mate with him and bear powerful half-blood children. They dreamed too big.

Elara flew north. After calming down, Cinderaven checked the path and asked, "Did you go the wrong way?"

"No," Elara arrived at the north side of Rodrik Valley. "We're not following Roxane anymore." Now that she knew Windis Larissa was guarding Austin Corell, it was best to avoid a direct fight.

She was not noble. When facing a powerful enemy, weakening them by any means was the best strategy—a lesson she had learned from the Larissa family.

After entering Rodrik Valley at the right spot, Roxane closed her eyes and carefully recalled the rainy night twenty years ago. Only now did she admit that everything that happened back then had been real.

She focused her senses, imagining she was the Andros woman who had led her into the valley that year. After adjusting her direction several times, she darted deeper into the valley.

Shhh…

A saw-edged green leaf shot straight into the seven-inch vital spot of a glowing white Crimson-Tongue White Viper. Blood spurted out, hitting the ground with a sizzling sound and white smoke. After confirming the viper was dead, Elara brushed her hair aside and took out the thick, long silver needle she had kept from twenty years ago.