Millennium Witch

And so time crawled along in the cycle of ink bottles drying up and being filled again, a quill pen wearing down to a dull tip, then replaced with a new one. Year after year, Abella, who had become a writer of erotic fiction, gradually accepted this method as a way to stabilize her crumbling spiritual world.

She continued to mechanically patrol the ever-growing, yet unshared, medicinal field; occasionally replenishing the nearly dried-up energy storage center with magic; in her spare time, she would check if any new third-tier divine offspring had appeared on Ish Island. If so, she would go and ravage them, absorbing a little bit of twisted, morbid pleasure from their twisted struggles and silent screams, and transforming it into the creative motivation for her short essays, writing more, longer, and more imaginative grand plots.

In this solitary creative career, snowflakes of paper and thick notebooks accumulated more and more on the round wooden table on the first floor.

At first, she tried to cover it up, lest she be caught off guard and not have hidden herself properly when her master woke up, which would be disastrous.

But over the long years measured in decades, this caution could not withstand the erosion of time and the relaxation of the heart. She began to casually pile these works of her heart on the table, and occasionally when she was tired, she would curl up in the soft sofa next to her for a short rest, letting the wind and rain sway outside the window.

And so, unknowingly, a century had passed since Yvette turned into a white cocoon.

……

It was a winter afternoon in Ish. In the pale white sky of Ish, fine snowflakes fell silently, like fluttering powdery sugar.

Inside the manor, Abella, dressed in a dull black and white outfit and looking like a homebody, gently closed the window, shutting out the cold wind. The pine wood in the fireplace was burning and leaping merrily, the orange flames warming the entire spacious living room.

At this moment, she had just finished writing a short story so brilliant that even she couldn't help but applaud her own talent. Although it was as dazzling and oppressive as ever, filled with indescribable fantasies and twisted desires for control, the beautiful writing completely offset the vulgar parts—at least that's what she thought.

Then, she stretched comfortably, lay down on the sofa next to her, and habitually curled up her long, slender, white legs to begin her regular daily nap.

The warmth of the fire gently enveloped her, and sleepiness washed over her like a tide. The surrounding air was quiet, save for the crackling of the flames burning the firewood, a comforting sound like every moment in the past.

but……

Just minutes after she drifted off to sleep, something unusual finally happened on the huge white cocoon on the snow outside the window, a cocoon that had stood motionless for a century despite the elements.

A fine crack that Abella had been anticipating for countless days and nights began to spread across the white cocoon, rapidly expanding.

Publish first, then revise.

Chapter 137 Awakening

With a peeling sound, fragments of the white cocoon's surface fell off like weathered plaster. They silently disintegrated in the biting wind, turning into invisible dust that drifted away without a trace.

So, in just over ten minutes, only a silver-haired girl in a black dress remained in the snow, her eyes closed.

She stirred slightly, opened her eyes, and saw the falling snow reflected in her dark red pupils. Then she propped herself up and looked around blankly.

"How long has it been...?" she murmured to herself, standing up and brushing off the snowflakes and dust clinging to her skirt. For her, the process of this great dream had been incredibly fast, almost instantaneous. The scene of waving goodbye to Abella and Bingyu seemed to have happened just a few hours ago.

However, it was not difficult for Yvette to figure this out. Even in deep slumber, the core of her magic power would steadily increase. And because it reached the limits of her physical body, the annual increase was fixed at 42 points per year. She could determine the duration of her long slumber simply by observing the increase in the total amount of magic power.

She remembered that before falling asleep, her total magic power was around 3100 points.

She immediately focused her consciousness into her body and began to examine herself, but she was soon stunned, her beautiful face filled with disbelief.

7300 points!

A gain of a full 4200 points!

Doesn't that mean a hundred years have already passed?

Could it have lasted that long?

To confirm further, she decisively awakened the "soul brain" that was dormant on the outer layer of her spirit body. During her long slumber, the soul brain was not shut down, but maintained a low-power on-state, which would not have any impact on the increase of magic power.

And here, she received confirmation once again: it was indeed a hundred years.

A long silence descended. Yvette stood in the wind and snow, letting the cold seep in. Her first thought was, a hundred years have passed. What happened to Rosalyn? Could she have turned to ashes?

However, as the strongest being below the true god and the ruler of both humans and demons on the eastern and western continents, his lifespan clearly cannot be judged by ordinary standards. Living for several hundred more years should not be a problem...

She consoled herself for a moment, then began to examine her pure white touch, exploring the changes in abilities brought about by this century-long slumber.

Immediately, at her command, a tentacle swiftly emerged from her palm, but its color had changed slightly compared to usual.

Unlike the clean, pure white of milk before, it was tinged with a grayish hue, adding a sense of filth and chaos.

From white touch... to gray touch?

Yvette immediately thought of the almost two-dimensional shadowy touch deep in her ocean of consciousness, and wondered if the final evolution was indeed to be dyed black.

Isn't that the same as Liana's ability, albeit through a different path?

Then, driven by curiosity, she began to try to manipulate the gray tentacle. Within seconds, the end of the tentacle quickly deformed, extended, and solidified, turning into a gray blade with a glint of cold light.

She continued to change her mind, and the gray blade changed accordingly. First, it transformed into a gray, bone-like giant claw, then into a small round shield, and then into a whip, a saw, and so on. Not only could it change its shape at will, but its material properties could also switch freely between soft and hard, as if it were her own arm.

This is GrayTouch's new capability, which can be called "mimicry".

But simply adding a mimicry effect seems like a disservice to the past century.

Therefore, the real special feature of GrayTouch now lies in the upgrade of its devouring ability and its synergistic effect with mimicry.

First of all, her devouring ability is not just about absorbing flesh and blood, replenishing magic power, and increasing mutated magic power.

She can also devour and deconstruct the underlying rune structure of matter. To put it bluntly, she copies the other party's genetic information and, combined with her mimicry ability, simulates the other party's organs, thereby gaining some of the other party's innate abilities.

For example, Abella's spider-leg spear and corrosive magic are things she normally cannot understand or analyze.

However, through the new combination of "devouring" and "mimicry", she can replicate Abella's spider leg spear or other body parts, and then use these parts as a medium to release her corrosive magic, without having to understand the underlying rune structure at all.

What's even more outrageous is that it doesn't just devour organic matter; it can also devour and decompose inorganic matter such as ores and metals.

This means that she can turn her distorted magic into a versatile material workshop. Whether it's the clothes she wears, the alloys needed to make equipment, or the high-end medicinal materials for making potions, she can first devour and deconstruct them, enter them into the database, and then use her mimicry ability to copy them on the spot!

Isn't that invincible?

...Well, not really.

This ability to devour, deconstruct, and mimic is, of course, limited, and the source of that limitation is the distortion magic itself.

As is well known, Yvette's aberration magic can only increase by devouring. If she encounters a first-stage aberration variant, her devouring ability will even be at a loss, and the total amount will decrease instead of increase.

The same applies to devouring, deconstruction, and mimicry. Each process consumes a huge amount of aberration magic, and the consumption is even more exaggerated if the target is too rare or the deconstruction is too complex.

Therefore, although she can use her ability to devour and deconstruct to enrich her database, she must make choices and trade-offs. Only the most precious items are worth recording in the database.

Otherwise, if she swallowed everything in sight and stuffed it all into her body, not to mention her current 20+ mutated magic power, even if she had 200 million, she would have used it all up in no time.

—Don't be fooled by her use of Abella as an example. If you were to completely input Abella from head to toe into the database, 20 distorted magic power would be nothing more than a drop in the ocean.

……

Standing still, after imagining countless applications of her "mimicry" ability, Yvette smiled, retracted her tentacles, and turned to look at the three-story villa behind her.

At this time, thanks to the maintenance of the AI ​​skeletons, the villa, a hundred years later, did not appear dilapidated or desolate. Instead, it was closely integrated with plants such as wisteria, exuding a sense of warmth and vitality, just like in a Miyazaki Hayao animated film.

But the next second, she suddenly noticed that there was a faint orange-red light flickering inside the lattice window on the first floor of the villa.

anyone?

Yvette was surprised, thinking that a hundred years had passed, so how could there be signs of use in the house, and even the fire in the hearth was still burning?

Ice Rain has already been sent back to the mainland by Abella, and Abella certainly won't come back. After all, she's a mutant, so playing the role of a maid is enough. It's simply impossible for her to stay in the manor for a hundred years.

Who could that be?

Could it be...

In that instant, a name surfaced in her heart.

She immediately tensed up, like an innocent young boy about to meet his first love. She took a few quick steps, pushed open the door, and looked inside.

A warm aroma wafted in, carrying the unique scent of burning pine, mixed with a relaxing, drowsy warmth. The firelight from the fireplace draped everything in the room in a shimmering golden veil.

Yvette's gaze was fixed on the living room, where she saw a tall figure wearing a black and white nightgown, with a delicate and charming profile, and her long, bare, snow-white legs curled up on the sofa to rest.

She walked over immediately, and after a moment, sighed in disappointment.

Why is it Abella...?

But soon, she became puzzled again, thinking that it had been a hundred years, so why was Abella still here? Had she been guarding this place all this time?

No…impossible…this isn’t something aberrations would do, nor is it Abella’s style…even if she were to feign loyalty, she could only do it for a few years at most, not this long…

Could it be that she comes back to the island to visit me every now and then, and it just so happens that we met on this centennial occasion?

Thinking of this, Yvette's eyes softened, and a smile returned.

She thought that although she didn't see her beloved eldest apprentice, she could feel Abella's sincerity towards her, so it wasn't bad.

It seems I can consider making her my full-time disciple... The "Earth Magic Codex" and "Heavenly Punishment Magic Codex" have been completed long ago, just gathering dust in the cabinet; I'll hand them over to her later...

She nodded reassuringly, gently reached out and rubbed Abella's head, and then heard her murmur a few times in her sleep, such as "Master... no..." and her legs rubbed together involuntarily.

Yvette didn't take it to heart, nor did she rush to wake her. She turned to look at the round table in the center of the living room.

There was a small mountain of snow-white manuscript paper piled up on it, almost crushing the table. Several thick notebooks with old covers and different handwriting were casually spread out, with ink bottles and quill pens scattered among them. It looked like a scholar's study, and even the air seemed to be filled with the fragrance of knowledge.

"Really...?" Yvette was genuinely shocked this time. She never expected that Abella would use the hundred years she was away to study diligently and strive for excellence in the manor!

Is this still Abella?

She actually has such a diligent and hardworking side?

Shouldn't she be like Dugrabi, learning magic by only learning what's readily available and ignoring all theoretical knowledge related to underlying principles and logic?

People do change, even mutants... It's been a century, and even Abella has grown up quite a bit...

Yvette was increasingly pleased. Curious, she walked to the table, picked up a notebook that was still open, and decided to see what Abella's learning direction was and where the progress bar was.

Then she saw at the very beginning of the notebook a title written in beautiful cursive script.

— Yvette's Lewd Notebook 503: Futa and the Seedbed.

Her smile froze on her face.

Damn, the VPN messed up my computer's time; it's past midnight and I didn't even realize it. Ugh. Here's one chapter.

Chapter 138 Is this reasonable?

Yvette had many expectations about the contents of Abella's notebook. It might contain knowledge of runic literature or magical engineering. Her learning progress might be relatively late, but it's also possible that she's quite advanced. There might even be doodles drawn when she was bored, like she used to do occasionally when she was studying.

But what she never expected was that what came into view was a smut novel, and one with her as the main character!

Is this reasonable?

Is this correct?

My dear maid, aren't you a mutant? How can you be so dazzling and repressive?

Or is this the grand gift you specially prepared for me after I've been asleep for a hundred years?

After several minutes of silence, Yvette put down the notebook expressionlessly, glanced at the mountain of notes and manuscripts around her, and a terrible thought suddenly occurred to her.

Is this all the kind of stuff that's written here?

Impossible, absolutely impossible! If these notebooks or manuscripts weren't books, they would add up to tens of millions of words. Who would have the time to write so much for their own amusement?

but……

After hesitating for a moment, just in case, Yvette opened a notebook next to her and decided to conduct a few simple spot checks.

Then, just like before, after looking at it for a few seconds, she was certain that this one was indeed the same thing.

Then came the second book, the third book...

Soon, the light of wind magic shone brightly, and a gale swept through the room. Notebook after notebook, manuscript after manuscript, seemed to be drawn into an invisible vortex, swirling and unfolding around her, revealing the unspeakable contents of her body. It was as if the darkest, most morbid, and most evil aspects of the human soul had been mixed together, evolving into a mental storm that would directly corrupt one's memory with just a glance.

As a novice pornography reviewer, Yvette felt like a small boat in a stormy night, struggling in a sea of ​​filthy knowledge. If she wasn't careful, she would be swallowed up by the overwhelming yellow garbage and fall into the abyss, never to recover.

……

Meanwhile, on the other side of the warm interior, Abella, who had just been enjoying a sweet dream, had her smile vanish without her noticing.

Her long eyelashes trembled incessantly, as if she were about to open them, but each time she was about to open them, she would instinctively sense danger and timidly close them again.

And so, the room fell silent, utterly still, not even the sound of burning firewood could be heard, only the urgent rustling of the wind through the pages of the book remained, like a death knell.

……

Tens of minutes later.

The flickering fireplace cast warm shadows on the living room floor, which was covered with a thick carpet. Abella was kneeling beside the sofa in a perfectly executed dogeza (a traditional Chinese obeisance), trembling, her forehead almost touching the carpet's soft fibers. Her long, dark hair was disheveled and covered most of her beautiful but deathly pale face.

Meanwhile, Yvette leaned back on the sofa, looking at her expressionlessly, without saying a word, as indifferent as a glacier floating on the deep North Sea.

This process lasted for more than ten minutes, until much later, Abella, whose nerves were starting to fray, cautiously raised her head, a fawning smile on her beautiful face, and said, "Um... Master... congratulations on waking up..."

"Aren't you going to explain?" Yvette asked calmly.

She wasn't actually angry, just a little speechless. If she weren't the protagonist in these erotic novels, she would even admire Abella—to be able to write so much for her own amusement is not just about showing off or suppressing one's feelings; it's like a born erotic star descended to earth, capable of single-handedly driving the industry forward.