Hate Me, Witch!

Moonlight was cold and clear, casting a soft glow over Xia Ya’s face.

He sat up from the bedside and gently tucked in the messy bedding beside him.

A soft murmur came from the girl next to him. A pale arm lightly tugged on the corner of Xia Ya’s shirt, making him feel the urge to crawl back under the covers and get cozy with her again.

Maybe it was Sylvia’s arrival that had made the girl more possessive lately. Xia Ya’s "benefits" over the past few days had been, frankly, generous.

Still, he managed to restrain the urge.

He had more important things to do.

“It’s alright, I’m just going out on the balcony for some air. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Xia Ya gently brushed his fingers against Ailora’s cheek and gave her a kiss on her fair, delicate face before quietly slipping out onto the balcony.

He sent out a thread of spiritual energy, lightly probing into the sealed cage that was his Sixth Soul Pact Space.

“Do you know how pitiful I’ve been in here? Like a stray mutt abandoned on the roadside—no, worse, a piece of sticky dog crap…”

No sooner had his spiritual energy entered than the Knowledge Grail started shaking and spouting lines of text.

“Cut the crap.”

“As you command, my Master.”

The white cup moved its right handle slightly, seemingly trying to give a salute.

But its stiff, inflexible form couldn’t manage the gesture—thud!—and it flopped onto the ground again.

“First question.”

Xia Ya didn’t bother responding to the cup’s antics.

He’d already figured out its behavior pattern—probably left alone in lost history for too long, and now latched onto anyone it could talk to, with an unfortunate knack for showing off and acting cutesy.

So before inserting his spiritual thread, he’d used Tsukuyomi to implant a mental suggestion into himself.

Xia Ya thought for a moment, then asked,

“Give me a detailed description of Isadella von Frestberg’s current state.”

“You mean the Knight King who defied history?”

Words appeared on the Knowledge Grail’s surface: “She’s protected by the Holy Sword. For something that ancient, a Mystery even deeper than my own, my Authority in the Spirit Realm might be blocked—I can only perceive fragments.”

“However, her current condition isn’t great. Historical correction has already dispersed most of the Holy Sword’s Mystery, letting me observe more clearly.”

The words paused, then continued:

“Isadella von Frestberg used the Mystery of the Holy Sword to traverse history, and a thousand years ago attained the Throne as the Knight King.”

“But due to that Bringer of Ruin, ‘Kayin,’ she refused to return to the proper timeline. Instead, she twisted the flow of history with the Holy Sword’s Mystery, forging a new branch stream.”

“Of course, the Holy Sword is mighty, but not omnipotent. Just being able to resist human logic and historical correction is already its limit.”

“But humans aren’t immortal. Our lifespans are finite. The reason she still exists to this day… seems to be due to borrowing the power of the Abyssal True God—‘Crimson Moon.’”

Xia Ya’s eyes flickered slightly. “You mean… Isadella was possessed by Crimson Moon, or corrupted?”

“Not quite.”

The Knowledge Grail wobbled its head.

“A Throne-tier’s mental energy is immense. Even an Abyssal True God couldn’t breach the Holy Sword’s protection and erode her core will.”

“She made the choice herself—to cooperate with Crimson Moon, for some reason.”

“In order to wait for that ‘Kayin’ to return from the Hall of Heroes… she was willing to do anything to pursue immortality.”

The white text turned black:

“To think someone who had already achieved the Throne, who held the qualifications to touch the Divine Realm… would still choose such a hopeless path because of some petty love affair from their youth. How utterly foolish. How laughable.”

“And that Kayin.”

“Clearly dead, and still dragging others down. What a piece of work.”

The cup bounced again:

“Honestly, Master, you don’t need to concern yourself with her.”

“From the First Era to the Fourth, there has never been a shortage of demigods and even true gods who tried to rewrite the grand flow of history using relics or their own Authority.”

“The histories they created—those deviant branches—are known as ‘Imaginary Belts.’”

“But without exception, every Imaginary Belt and every King of the Belt was eventually ground to dust by correction forces. Their traces erased, their memory forgotten by all.”

“That’s why Throne-tiers and Mythical Creatures rarely take action—they know that as long as they wait, this false history will inevitably be corrected. Nothing will change.”

Xia Ya glanced at the bouncing white cup.

“Let me tell you a secret.”

“Actually, I’m Kayin.”

...

“It’s my greatest honor to share in Master’s secre—”

The text on the Knowledge Grail froze mid-sentence.

Only now did it realize: the person it had been badmouthing all along… was Xia Ya himself.

And by that logic…

The Scarlet Empress Isadella, who defied history and forged an Imaginary Belt…

Would very likely become its future Mistress.

“Actually, Master, I think Her Majesty the Empress is… quite worthy of saving.”

“A love that endures a thousand years—how noble, how grand…”

“Next question.”

Xia Ya cut in, glancing at the cup whose face turned faster than flipping pages.

If he hadn’t given himself that no-snark suggestion with Tsukuyomi, he’d definitely have dropped a few sarcastic comments on this simping Grail.

Xia Ya narrowed his eyes slightly.

With a thought, crimson power surged in through his Third Soul Pact, gathering at his fingertip into a fine blade of energy.

He moved his finger—

A tiny gash opened in his palm.

But in the next instant, it rapidly healed.

“This self-healing ability of mine—where does it come from?”

“Master, the Mystery embedded in your spiritual source is too dense for me to pierce.”

The text on the licking-dog cup paused briefly, then hesitantly continued.

“But… if I had to guess, this healing power seems to carry a trace of Abyssal aura.”

“It’s somewhat similar to that of Crimson Moon—but still distinct.”

The moment those words appeared, the Knowledge Grail gave an involuntary shiver.

Could it be… that its Master was actually an Ancient God from the Abyss too?

Xia Ya pondered briefly, then asked again, “Next question.”

“Master, um…”

For some reason, the Knowledge Grail now radiated a hint of shyness.

“Speak plainly.”

“According to the laws encoded in my Sage Core when I was born, I must follow the principle of equivalent exchange.”

“Master, the forbidden knowledge you previously granted me can count as payment for the first question—but this is now the third one…”

“May someone as lowly as me request that you answer a question of mine?”

Xia Ya nodded. “Ask.”

“May I ask… what was the last dish of your most recent meal?”

Xia Ya thought back. “Goji soup with grilled lamb kidney.”

He recalled a long time ago, when he’d gone to a fortune teller in the Imperial Capital.

The prophecy he’d been given back then was: “Drink more goji, eat more kidneys.”

Looking back now, that fortune teller was legit.

“Perfect answer!”

A burst of bright white light radiated from around the Knowledge Grail.

“Master, you may continue with your questions.”

“Then—final question.”

Xia Ya’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Tell me everything you know about the Golden Dawn, and the purpose of the letter they sent me.”

...

Roughly ten minutes later, Xia Ya withdrew his spiritual energy from his Sixth Soul Pact Space.

Cold winds howled across the balcony, brushing against Xia Ya’s cheeks and clearing his mind.

He had to admit—even though the Knowledge Grail was a chatterbox with a flair for drama—

its Authority to peer into secrets was undeniably powerful, beyond question.

Spending 170 points to exchange for it had absolutely been worth it.

In a world filled with transcendents and mysteries—

those who controlled information always had the upper hand.

Xia Ya reached out and opened his palm.

In the next instant, a letter laced with starlight and imprinted with a half-decayed World Tree sigil quietly manifested from his Spatial Pocket.

With a twitch of his index finger, seal after seal—applied by Sylvia herself—was unlocked one by one.

Moments later, Xia Ya opened the envelope, and the text within came into view.

【To the Honorable “Star-Chaser,” Xia Ya Egut.】

【Your valor during the Sacred Calendar year 346, in the Ancient Kingdom of Cangting, became a turning point in human history.】

【“Star-Chaser” is a title reserved for those who have reshaped the trajectory of history, laid the foundations for humanity’s future, and achieved a feat known as the “Pioneering of the Stars.”】

【Thus, this is an invitation from the Golden Dawn.】

【Perhaps you’ve heard of us. Perhaps you haven’t. But that matters little…】

【We are the witnesses of human history, the guardians of human order, and the ones who ensure the continuity of the true timeline.】

【We have witnessed the dawn of eras, and we have heard the echoes of their ends.】

【You may not have heard our name, but surely you’ve heard of King Rhine of Gold. He was once our leader.】

【If you are willing to join the Golden Dawn, follow the spiritual guidance within this invitation at the stroke of midnight on the first of next month to attend our gathering.】

As Xia Ya finished reading, the letter scattered into glimmering starlight, drifting away with no trace left behind.

“Classy,” Xia Ya muttered inwardly as he watched the letter dissolve into motes of light.

Look at the way they phrased it.

“Witnesses of History,” “Guardians of Human Order”… they were laying it on thick.

But more importantly—they actually seemed to have the credentials to back it up.

Golden King Rhine—he was the one who established the Sacred Calendar and had his face engraved onto every gold coin across the continent.

Back when Xia Ya hadn’t yet secured Sylvia or Isadella’s thick royal backing, he used to stare longingly at those coins, wishing he could split one in half to stretch it further.

And that same legendary figure? Was merely one former leader of the Golden Dawn.

According to the supplementary intel provided by the Knowledge Grail, the minimum entry bar for the Golden Dawn was Legendary-tier.

The only exception: “Star-Chasers.”

Only those who had achieved a “Pioneering of the Stars” could be called Star-Chasers...

And what exactly was a “Pioneering of the Stars”?

Scholars who advanced human learning.

Explorers who opened routes to new continents.

Those who enlightened the world with magitech or arcane knowledge.

Every one of them had left a legendary legacy in history—heroes who steered the course of civilization.

“So by their standards, that means… I’m only here because of Sylvia?”

Xia Ya’s thoughts spun rapidly.

Just the infighting within Cangting’s ruins wasn’t enough to be considered a historical turning point.

The real reason he was labeled a “Star-Chaser”… was likely because he changed Sylvia’s fate—or more accurately, directly catalyzed the founding of the White Chalk Tower.

The White Chalk Tower, as an academic institution purely focused on teaching and knowledge, later became a beacon of civilization during the Era of Cataclysm.

You could say the butterfly effect of saving Sylvia fundamentally altered the trajectory of future human history.

“With the Golden Dawn’s standing, it’s no surprise they picked up on my involvement in the Historical Echoes of Cangting.”

“After all, when I first entered a Historical Echo, I had no concept of hiding my identity. I just waltzed in as myself, full send.”

“Then came that banquet, where Sylvia and I both ended up at the center of the continent’s attention. Anyone could’ve pieced it together from there.”

“But from the looks of it—they have no clue I’m also Kayin.”

Xia Ya let out a quiet breath of relief.

Honestly, the Kayin identity totally lived up to the “Star-Chaser” title as well.

And it was one he’d earned on his own—no riding Sylvia’s coattails required.

Granted, the reputation left behind was… on the negative side.

“Guess the Golden Dawn isn’t as omniscient as I thought. Can’t even see through my Kayin persona.”

“The first-of-the-month gathering, huh…”

Xia Ya ran through the letter’s contents in his mind again.

Then, there was that faint trail of starlight left behind after the envelope dissipated—a mysterious spiritual thread.

He could feel it.

If he followed that thread, his spiritual source could bypass the Material Plane’s boundaries and reach… somewhere high above.

“So this is where that Golden Dawn gathering takes place?”

“Yes, Master.”

The Knowledge Grail respectfully displayed its text inside the Soul Pact Space.

“Golden Dawn must possess some ancient Mystery—possibly tied to the World Tree… The location of their monthly gathering exists outside the Material Plane entirely.”

“It’s not part of any known sub-plane, Starrealm, or Spirit Realm.”

“The only way to attend is to follow the spiritual guidance at midnight on the first of the month.”

“If it’s not the designated time—then even a Demigod, even a True God, would be unable to perceive that place…”

The Knowledge Grail was still inscribing words—

But in the next moment, it froze ever so slightly.

Because it saw radiant starlight suddenly burst into brilliance, illuminating Xia Ya’s entire form.

Thick black mist spread outward, and Xia Ya’s spiritual origin followed the thread of guidance, vanishing from the Material Plane.

Only the Knowledge Grail remained inside the Soul Pact Space, staring blankly at the newly regenerated little black room.

What was his Master’s real background, anyway?

...

Xia Ya felt his entire body enveloped in pitch-black mist.

It was like floating among the clouds.

This world of nothing but black fog belonged neither to the Material Plane, nor to the Spirit Realm or Starrealm.

And yet, it bore a lofty tier of existence, far above the natural downgrade of subordinate planes and minor dimensions.

“It’s not even the scheduled time… so why am I here already?”

Xia Ya was just as baffled.

He’d only meant to casually test the coordinates and record the direction of the spiritual guidance.

But unexpectedly, he had actually entered this place.

And not only that—he didn’t even need to expend spiritual power. It was as if the black fog itself was actively welcoming his arrival.

“I’m really starting to wonder what kind of secret is hidden in me.”

Xia Ya stared at the roiling mist that seemed to greet him, silent for a while.

He wasn’t stupid.

If it were just his unreliable system or whatever, he could’ve chalked it up to some transmigrator bonus or divine cheat.

But even setting that aside—there were simply too many abnormalities.

Even someone like Isadella, a Throne-tier wielder of the Holy Sword, was bound by historical correction when traveling to the past. She could only act in line with the overarching flow of history. To resist it was to invite overwhelming destruction.

And yet, he had traversed Historical Echoes twice—regardless of what he did, no matter how massive the impact—there was no real pushback.

Then there was his bizarre Fourth Soul Pact and his undead-like regeneration.

Everything pointed to a secret far beyond ordinary.

Come to think of it, even his own origins were vague.

Since his earliest memories, he had been raised by an old icefield hunter in Ceylan of the Northern Lands. But according to the old man, he had found Xia Ya abandoned in the ruins of a frozen wasteland.

“If I get the chance, I really ought to return to Ceylan and check it out.”

A faint hint of nostalgia flashed in Xia Ya’s eyes.

He wasn’t the type to accept being left in the dark.

Given his personality, Xia Ya preferred to act with certainty, to keep every card in his hands—only then could he feel at ease.

A thought stirred within him.

In the next instant, the black mist behind him surged.

Several pale golden branches spread out, weaving behind his back to form a throne made of gilded limbs.

Xia Ya sat down upon the throne woven from golden branches, sinking into thought.

“So… I’m actually the true master of this place?”

“According to the Knowledge Grail, this black fog is where the ancient organization Golden Dawn holds its gatherings.”

“And now… I’ve cuckolded them?”

Xia Ya experimented briefly.

This wasn’t a physical world, merely a locus of spiritual origin.

And yet—he clearly held many Authorities here.

After a long while, his tests complete, Xia Ya gently tapped the armrest of the golden throne beneath him.

“With this, my plans in Aisgania will be far easier to execute.”

From beginning to end, Xia Ya had never forgotten—he was still inside a twisted timeline.

And his current first objective… was to correct this erroneous history.

“Bringer of Ruin… Kayin.”

Xia Ya narrowed his eyes, recalling what the history books now said about Kayin.

“Then let Kayin… and Akatsuki…”

“Become true bringers of ruin—for real this time.”

...

Imperial Capital, Fresta Empire.

Between the Thrones.

A silver-haired woman stood alone in the quiet palace.

Before her was an enormous canvas.

The painting was nearly complete—only the final touches remained.

She held no brush in her hand. She simply raised her pale finger and tapped the air, and dazzling strokes of light appeared on the canvas, vivid and lifelike.

It was a grand, sweeping painting.

At the center stood a slender figure in a black robe with red clouds, wearing a swirling mask.

The background was a vast, shadowy valley under the night sky.

Across the valley, countless monstrous beasts—black as ink—snarled in the darkness.

And that lone figure faced them head-on, back turned to the world.

Above the night sky, a Holy Spear pierced through the darkness, radiating endless starlight as it plunged from the heavens.

...

Cold moonlight streamed through the window between the Thrones, casting a glow across Isadella’s elegant face—illuminating those beautiful eyes that were now as empty and still as a dry well.

“Right now, you really do seem a little unfamiliar to me.”

A faint figure in a shadowy black dress emerged silently to the side of the Throne Room.

“Black Princess… are we even close?”

Isadella didn’t look away from the painting. Only her cold voice echoed in the grand hall.

The black-dressed figure giggled softly. “In the correct timeline… we did share some interactions.”

“I’ve long forgotten.”

The silver-haired Empress’s expression didn’t change, and not a single flicker of emotion showed in her empty gaze.

She didn’t even turn her head.

“I don’t remember what we were in another history… but here, you and I are simply enemies.”

“You want this shadow of yours to be trapped here forever?”

Golden brilliance flared—Holy Sword pressure surged forth, a force only Throne-tiers could wield, strong enough to gravely injure even ordinary Legendary beings.

Yet, before the Holy Sword fully manifested, the black-dressed figure had already melted into a stream of shadow and disappeared into the night.

“Cooperating with Crimson Moon to gain immortality… the price was to forget humanity, forget the past, forget all worldly emotions.”

“To become so hideous, so distorted, even your former self would fail to recognize you.”

“If I told you… everything you’re doing now was a misunderstanding, and your determination is nothing but pointless struggle…”

“That even if Kayin were truly revived—he’d only see your twisted form and feel nothing but revulsion…”

“Would you… regret it?”

The shadow dispersed, but that silvery voice still echoed between the Thrones.

Isadella’s gaze remained fixed upon the painting.

Or, to be more precise—

Upon the slender figure of that youth, standing alone, back turned to the world.

“I do not regret it.”