The Virtuous Dark Witch

Chapter 3

Her pink fingertip brushed the needle's tip gently. Elara's gaze turned calm. Strangely enough, ten years into this world, she felt as if the world was overly kind to vampires.

Humans and vampires had coexisted for so long, yet apart from sunlight, no effective weapon against them had been found.

Elara placed the Silver Needle back into the Oak Box, closed it, and carried it to the window. She pushed it open. A ray of sunlight burst in, shining on her porcelain face. She flinched and squinted.

"So warm."

After slowly adjusting, she smiled and looked out at the red sunrise, her silver-gray pupils dyed crimson.

From what she had learned so far, the only ways to kill a vampire were sunlight—or tearing out their heart and cutting off their head.

Neither was feasible for ordinary humans. Sunlight worked on turned vampires, but natural-born, pure-blooded Andros could survive under the scorching sun for quite some time.

As for the latter? The Andros possessed terrifying healing abilities. Ordinary humans could not even get close, let alone tear out hearts or cut off heads. Werewolves and witches could, but they would not easily clash with the Andros for the sake of lowly humans—even if they themselves were not on good terms.

This was why ordinary humans, despite their fast reproduction and large population, held no status in this world. Outside the West Sea Forest, ordinary humans were often called Rozin People—the word "Rozin" here meaning "beast."

Elara exhaled softly. After understanding what kind of world this was, she thanked her luck countless times for being born into the Dessey Witch family, and for inheriting her mother's bloodline, which allowed her to cultivate Witch Power.

Otherwise… she glanced at the vast empty black fields before Dessey Castle. Her only fate would have been farming.

Although she had temporarily abandoned farming, she planned to return to it once things improved. The thought made her smile bitterly. The Desseys controlled the entire West Sea Forest and still managed to live off old savings. It chilled her heart.

But it was not entirely their fault. The Desseys had always been few in number, and the Witches were wild and untamed, refusing to keep slaves. Expecting them to farm or hunt was wishful thinking.

Elara looked out at the endless green. Her mother had set her sights on Anastas City. Things would not go smoothly.

Anastas City had not always been called that. It had been renamed after being granted to Rocky Anastas by Viscount Ana Stirling—his mother, a noble Andros.

On Mal Continent, there was only one great nation: the Andrea Kingdom. Centered on the royal capital Andrea Capital in the middle, it ruled almost the entire central continent, stretching west to the Alsace Mountains, north to the Northern Plains, east to Sky Gulf City, and south to the Glass Fireless Forest.

Why "almost"?

Because within that central continent lay one special territory: the land beneath her feet. To this day, Elara still could not figure out how her ancestors had snatched this rich land from the Andros.

The Andrea Kingdom's history traced back ten thousand years. The Andros had built it for one clear reason: convenience.

Unlike ancient Chinese feudal dynasties, the Andrea Kingdom had a king, but he was little more than a figurehead, not the true ruler. Behind him stood the five great Andros families.

They were:

The Stirling Family, led by Duke Alexandra Stirling and Duke Lisandra Stirling;

The Miller Family, ruled by Duke Eliza Miller and Duke Amy Miller;

The Hall Family, under Duke Brett Hall;

The Lake Family, led by Duke April Lake;

The Cotton Family, under Duke Becky Cotton.

Simply put, the seven grand dukes were the true rulers of the Andrea Kingdom. As Andros progenitors, they were feared by all Andros nobles. Below dukes were earls, and below earls, viscounts—all titles granted based on blood purity.

Rocky Anastas, lord of Anastas City near the West Sea Forest, was the son of Viscount Ana Stirling, not only a viscount of the Andrea Kingdom but also a member of the Stirling Family—the most powerful of the five Andros forces.

That was, assuming the lost progenitor was truly dead. If he still lived, the Sterlings would rank lower.

The Dessey Witches feared no one and picked only the hardest fights. Elara gripped the small Oak Box, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

"I wonder how the Andros have put up with them until now?"

The West Sea Forest was not far from Andrea Capital—a leisurely five-day carriage ride. Yet for ten thousand years, the forest had remained Dessey land.

Even stranger: the vast West Sea Forest had no werewolf tribes. Elara was certain of this.

She stretched her right hand out the window. The crows dozing on the castle eaves all opened their eyes at once and flew toward the attic.

"Why is that?" Elara teased the crows crowding her, smiling softly. "Do you know?"

The existing werewolves were divided into three major tribes: the Macadam Tribe, the Arabella Tribe, and the Leeds Tribe. Their exact population was unknown, but Elara estimated it was large—far more than the Andros.

Yet even so, as fellow humans, they had never tried to stand against the Andros. It was not wolf-like at all.

"I'm going out of the West Sea Forest tomorrow with Mother and Aunt Thea." Elara spread her fingers. "Who wants to come with me?"

As soon as she spoke, a scrawny, dull-feathered crow shot forward and landed on her palm. The other crows hesitated, then flapped their wings angrily, some even puffing up their feathers. Elara laughed aloud.

"Alright, you little clever one. You're coming."

She tossed the crow gently into the air and withdrew her hand. Rocky Anastas having a son would surely draw many guests. Even before going, she could guess who she would meet.

"I wonder if all Light Witches dress in white, like saints?" Elara turned and put the Oak Box back into her Treasure Chest.

"Mother is right. I really should go out and see the world."