Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

With two thuds, Fagin and Laura lay down like corpses.

Chlorna gasped as she looked at her fallen classmate, "Lady Veraliz! Figny and Laura..."

The cat retreated into its shadow world. "It's nothing, Chlorna. They just chose the best way." The black cat looked at the bag in Chlorna's hand. "With all this candy, it'll be hard to find someone to share it with."

"Got it!" The cat jumped off Kurona's shoulder. "Kurona! We've got enough candy! Let's go find our friends to share, hurry up and catch up!"

Kurona turned around and bowed to the portraits of all the heroes of the Magic Research Society hanging on the wall.

"Thank you, everyone in the Magic Research Club, Happy Halloween!"

Happy Halloween! XN

Law watched the departing man and cat, and murmured softly.

"Hopefully we won't eat there in Andre, or we'll suffer the losses."

Vera Liz knocked on the door decorated with a wine glass pattern.

The door opened.

"Nia! We're here to play!"

“It’s Vera the cat!” Nia stretched out her tentacles and climbed onto Chrona, stroking the cat’s fur with her fingers.

"We brought candy! Nia, come and have some!"

"Candy! Eat candy! Kitties are cute!" Nia waved her tentacles, and on one of them was a skull glowing.

Vera Liz narrowed her eyes.

"Nia, what's that in your hand?"

“It’s a gentleman’s head! Lyle told Nia to look.”

The cat gave a human-like smile. "Nia, can I borrow it to play with? I want to pet that guy's head too."

"But Nia promised to keep it safe..."

"I can keep it too. I'm that guy's good friend, he definitely won't mind!"

"Oh well."

The gentleman's skull became Vera Liz's toy.

“Alright, let’s start eating the candy!” Vera Liz pulled the golden hexahedron from the bag. “I’ll start with the most delicious one!” The cat opened its mouth, its sharp teeth touching the gleaming surface…

Having finished adjusting the body and conducting experiments, a somewhat tired Lyle arrived at the door of the Cup of Extravagance.

"I wonder if Nia has been behaving herself. She must be so bored after staying here for so long."

He opened the door, glanced inside, and closed it. He took three steps back, took three deep breaths, and then reopened the door.

Spherical.

The interior of the Cup of Extravagance transformed into a sphere. The opulent curtains, chairs, and crystal chandeliers all vanished.

In the center of the crater, Chrona lay unconscious on one side, while Nia and Veraliz were entangled together, their shadows and tentacles swaying idly on the floor. Their gently rising and falling bodies emitted the soft breathing of sleep.

Lyle picked up the fragment in his hand; a small piece of bone still had a cat's paw print on it.

Lyle had only one thought in his mind.

"No sugar, no missiles?"

Chapter 235 Former Friends

The witches' gathering was in a dense forest, a fact confirmed after passing through the misty fog. Istara was directing her sisters as they set up the tent posts—two tall, round logs, each about twenty meters apart. If the distance exceeded one meter, several of the sisters' rooms inside the tent would be either not set up or torn apart. Wenli watched the little girls sitting on the thick logs, observing their older sisters' preparations. Unlike Murray, they hadn't received the same preferential treatment; they could only sit on the logs, their chins resting on their hands. These logs were everywhere, clearly indicating that this area had once been part of the forest, only recently cleared.

“Ms. Wenli, our preparations are complete, and our contact with the neighboring witch clans has gone very smoothly.” Istara approached Wenli with a wax-covered ledger in hand, followed by the witches who were preparing to set off on their mission.

“It’s my good fortune to have you here, Istra.” Praised, Istra pulled down her hat, the stray hairs pressed against it obscuring the blush on her freckled cheeks.

"Lady Wenli, I will definitely manage the camp well for you, so please feel free to do what you want to do."

Wenli stroked Istara's cheek, smiled, and drifted away like a gentle breeze.

The vengeful witches' camp was on the other side of the gathering. As Wenli moved up the path, she noticed the increasingly steep terrain and realized that the witches' gathering was on a mountain, or at least in a flat area halfway up the mountain. The fog wasn't caused by any witchcraft; it was simply water vapor condensing at high altitude.

“The vengeful witches still love towering places; perhaps they are better suited to be crows.”

“A fine analogy, Wenli.” Just ten meters away, a witch dressed as if she'd just crawled out of a potion bottle responded. Her clothes resembled a layer of earth, covered with grass and small mushrooms. Her skin had an oily sheen, her features were rounded, and her eyes held a murky quality, as if she'd lived in the mountains for a long time, lacking the refinement of civilization. But the occasional glint of light in her eyes made one wonder if it was a disguise. She was like a witch from a fairy tale, or rather, a sorceress. In fact, the role of the witch was indeed based on her; she was Longjieweni, the oldest forest witch, the woman in fairy tales who lived deep in the mountains brewing potions. Her long life had transformed into wisdom, and that was how she looked when Wenli first met her. Wenli wondered if Longjieweni might have lived longer than her, and indeed she had; now she was dead, but the elder still smiled.

"It's been a long time, Longjeveni." Almost all the living witches have received her favors, and among the witches, Longjeveni has always been a kind old woman.

"Has it been a long time, Wenli? It feels like just yesterday when I last saw you. You are still so radiant. Time hasn't changed you, Wenli."

“Longjiewenni, just so you know, I’m dead now.”

“Oh, Wenli, you’ve changed,” she said, her voice like that of an elderly person hearing that their children have grown up and are moving out. Her aged fingers, interlaced with her cane, looked up at Wenli and pursed her wrinkled lips. “So, you can’t give me a hug anymore, can you?”

Wenli smiled, opened her arms, and hugged the petite Longjieweni. "Of course not, my lovely Longjieweni, as long as you don't think I'm cold."

Longjiewenni placed the crouching Wenli into her cloak, as if nature itself were embracing Wenli.

“You are still the Wenli I know, my child. Cinderella’s fate made me think I had lost yet another friend. Hearing the news of your resurrection terrified me; I feared death would make everything worse. But, my dear, you haven’t changed in my eyes. You didn’t succumb to death, Wenli, your soul is still warm.” Before Longjie Wenni could finish speaking, she coughed, took a small vial of paste from a pocket under her cloak, and drank it. Her cough finally subsided.

"But your body is really cold."

A small joke brought the two back to their past, and they walked together up the mountain.

“Longjeveni, are you also here to ask about Cecesera? About the purpose of this gathering.”

"Questions lingered in the minds of every witch mother, and this abrupt gathering captivated everyone. I received a notice from the vengeful witches that we were to return there to assemble, every witch mother." Longjiewenni glanced at Wenli. "It seems your little tiff with Cecilia isn't over yet. It's been ten years."

"That's no small conflict. Our will and goals have diverged. We can't work together if we're on different paths. There's no possibility of reconciliation."

“Is that so?” Longjiewenni looked at the bright silver pattern on Wenli’s hand. “In my opinion, it’s just a little tiff. There’s no fundamental difference between your pursuits; it’s all for the better survival of witches. In the future, there will definitely be an opportunity for you to go back to the past. After all, your connection has already transcended blood ties.”

“I don’t think much of your point of view, because Cecilra is just a self-important female raven.”

The two finally found the large black tent with feathers, which stood out conspicuously in the lush coniferous forest. Longjieweni had already begun administering vials of medicine; the altitude here must have been incredibly high, and the thin air was a challenge for this long-lived individual.

"Come in quickly, Wenli." Longjie Wenni had already crawled into the tent; the cold wind blowing outside was enough to make her suffer.

Inside the tent was another world. Against the black background, many lit candles had to be hung, but the lamp holders were also in a terrible cold color. In the center was a hall, with spiral staircases on both sides leading to rooms on either side. In the corridor, one vengeful witch after another was observing the matriarch of the various witch clans sitting in the center.

Wenli was quite familiar with this place. She looked directly at the spot in her memory. On the solemn throne that used to be made of piled stones, there was now a basket.

That was the cat's bed, Wenli smiled knowingly, but the cat named Vera Liz wasn't there.

Cersera sat in the first position to the right of the throne. Her appearance remained unchanged; calling her a raven wouldn't be an exaggeration. She wore a large fur coat woven from feathers, and a ribbon made of black puffin feathers peeked out from her waist-length hair. Her nose was so high that it disrupted the balance of her originally delicate features. Heavy smoky makeup made her look ten years older and gave her a sinister air. In truth, Cersera was indeed a petty woman.

Ceresella stood up from her seat. With her tall, slender figure and graceful curves beneath her large fur coat, she was the most beautiful among the witch mothers, and so was her sarcasm.

“Longjevini, what did you bring in? We are not the mushrooms you cultivated, nor are we carrion jackals or vultures. We do not eat corpses.”

Chapter 236 Chronoa, the Body Bearer

The vengeful witches possess a very strong sense of collectivism, much like their fanatical pursuit of an almost obsessive sense of honor. This is one of the reasons they can be so engrossed in revenge. And now, the vengeful witches' unity is manifested in their mockery of their opponents. Before Ceresella had even finished speaking, the surrounding witches joined their witch mother in jeers, like a noisy cacophony of crows in a wheat field.

Wenli didn't say anything more, as if she were only hearing the buzzing of a mosquito in her ear. Her eyes were cold, staring directly at Sersera who was meeting her gaze.

“Sersela, Wenli is the witch mother of the Death Witches. She was originally one of us, so she naturally has the right to listen to our meetings now. Moreover, the fact that she can enter a gathering of vengeful witches means that it was authorized by the person behind you, doesn’t it?” Longjeven pointed to the cat’s nest on the stone throne, reminding the vengeful witches of the changes.

Cecilia looked at Longjeveni's hunched back, but the malice in her eyes didn't show. She glared at Longjeveni fiercely, "Her existence won't bring any change, Longjeveni, you can't stop me."

“I didn’t mean to stop you, dear Cecila. I just wanted your plan to be more perfect, and for both ears to hear more.”

The Witch Mother Council is essentially a summit of witches, the only difference being that they are witches. They are adept at understanding people's hearts and know each other well, so everything discussed here is more direct. They directly seek help rather than burying their desires in intricate webs, waiting for their interlocutors to fall into them. Although they harbor constant grudges in private, they maintain absolute goodwill during this meeting because the current environment doesn't allow them the leisure for intrigue. Cersera, in her Witch Mother form, even reached several mutually beneficial agreements with Wenli.

However, the mutual aid session at this witches' gathering was very brief. Everyone had their own thoughts and were watching the proud and reserved Cersera, waiting for her to mention her true plan, the beautiful future she had depicted for the witches.

Cecilia, who had been keeping her eyes closed, opened them, her gaze sweeping over everyone like a drawn blade.

“I can feel your anticipation, just as I can feel it every time I lead my people to fight back against those who have harmed us, seeing the corpses of my tortured sisters.”

“Witchcraft, a power unique to us, has changed us. We are no longer locked in our homes by men, or treated as playthings. It has given us the dignity of being an independent life, even beyond death.”

“I am disappointed that some of our compatriots take this blessing as a curse. They are uneasy because of their own witchcraft, and they hate themselves for it. I know that you all have this kind of inferiority complex to some extent. You think that we are different, that we are freaks. We were originally women who should be good wives and mothers, stay in our own little plot of land, pray to God, and pray that our husbands are good pillars of support.”

“You are wrong! You wretches! We were created by the gods and are born free! We are not anyone’s slaves! We are noble and unique souls! I am proud! I am proud to be a witch! I chose the wilderness of survival of the fittest over a warm and quiet dwelling! Because the threats on this land constantly tell me that my existence is worth more than twenty-five pounds of flesh, and I live for myself!”

“I am not the first to speak out, nor will I be the last. Even if we cease to exist, if witches are gone, and if witchcraft is gone, eventually a woman will stand up and speak out for our God-given rights.”

“A nation needs a king, a town needs a lord, and so do we witches. We must unite and have a strong leader, our mistress.”

Ceresella paused for a moment. "Of course, I'm not the one to choose. Although I would love to do it, I don't have the courage to lead a witch. I'm not strong enough."

“You should know about the Final Witch Project. The oldest and most solemn witchcraft. An altar, a vessel with extraordinary potential, a powerful force. We will personally bring our leader, the matriarch of all witches, who will lead us to build our own kingdom.” Cecilia looked at the silent Wenli, her eyes filled with a smile, “a kingdom that cannot be destroyed.”

The mountain's peak pierced the clouds, revealing a sharp point. There was no thick fog here, though it was still chilly. An unusual light in the distance, mirroring the sun, cast a warm glow on the black, strangely carved pillar at the center of the proto-altar. A young girl knelt directly beneath the chilling black pillar, clad in light black feathered fabric that rustled in the cold wind. She prayed to the eerie stone pillar with the devotion of a nun.

A shadow crept up the girl's back, and a claw knocked off her hat. Her short, dark blue hair was blown by the wind, revealing her youthful and innocent face—a beauty in the making.

"Clowna, my little cutie, did you miss me?" The shadow transformed into a cat, and Veraliz nestled on her shoulder, replacing her scarf with her own tail.

Kurona turned her head, and in her bright eyes, worry had turned into tears.

"Lady Veraliz! Waaaaah, I can't find you anywhere, I'm so scared..."

Seeing the girl crying her eyes out, Vera the cat felt a little guilty about running away. But after all, she was a cat, and there was nothing wrong with wanting to pursue her freedom!

Veraliz stretched out her little fleshy cheeks to wipe away Chrona's tears. She had tried licking them with her tongue before, but the barbs on her tongue only made Chrona cry louder. Her skin was as delicate as a baby's; it was truly a wonder how a vengeful witch living in the wilderness maintained such skin.

Vera looked up at the black pillar, its solemn aura pressing down on the cat.

"So, since you couldn't find us, Kurora came to wait for us by the pillar? It's so high up here, and it's cold."

"Kirona doesn't know what else she can do. The only thing she can rely on is the stone pillar that Lady Veraliz brought. If she prays, you might be able to hear her."

Vera looked into those orange eyes that reflected her own image. This silly girl had actually done it.

"This pillar isn't some kind of deity that grants all wishes. It's just our coming-of-age pillar. In our family, a pillar like this is erected whenever a child reaches adulthood. We just moved it here because we thought it was interesting."

The black cat jumped off Chlorna's shoulder and pulled her down the mountain by her clothes.

"Are we going back, Lady Vera?"

"Let's go play at the gathering."