Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 66: Bloodstained Rose

Western Continent, Golden Plains.

Massive black wings blotted out the sun as a colossal Black-Scaled Wyvern soared through the air, racing across the plains bathed in golden light.

The scenery remained monotonous—vast fields stretching endlessly, with occasional summoned beasts, both strong and weak, poking their heads out from the man-high grass. But the moment they sensed the dragon’s undisguised aura of dominance, they quickly retreated into hiding.

No one knew how long had passed before a change finally appeared on the otherwise unvarying horizon.

At the edge of the skyline—

A towering structure gradually came into view.

The massive tower was pure white, its towering form piercing through the clouds, standing as though it sought to connect the heavens and the earth.

Surrounding the tower were sprawling clusters of buildings, encircled by massive city walls.

At its core, the buildings connected seamlessly, forming a bustling, vibrant city.

And at the entrance of the tower stood a grand obelisk.

On its surface, two ancient lines of golden script gleamed—

[Sacred Calendar Year 360, Month of Abundance]

["The Argent Witch," Sylvia Branstat, established the White Chalk Tower in the Golden Plains.]

From above, the arrival of the Black-Scaled Wyvern stirred a small commotion within the city.

Soon, powerful presences surged from within the White Chalk Tower.

However, as if realizing something, those probing tendrils of mental energy quickly withdrew, vanishing without a trace.

The Black-Scaled Wyvern beat its wings, hovering above the grand plaza before the tower.

"Welcome back to the White Tower, Your Eminence Fioren."

A cool female voice rang out.

A woman clad in a pure white mage’s robe stood at the tower’s entrance, her features elegant and reserved.

She held a book in her hands, quietly gazing at the hovering wyvern.

Though she appeared unassuming, there wasn’t a single person in the White Tower who didn’t recognize her.

The administrator of the White Tower’s Grand Library.

The Vice Tower Master—Iswida.

Iswida was a Beastmaster with a title of her own, and even among those at the Sixth Ring, she was no weakling. Given her age, there was even a possibility that she could ascend to the ranks of legend.

At present, in the entire White Chalk Tower, only someone of Iswida’s standing could personally receive Fioren.

But at this moment, Fioren, her face obscured by a metal mask, had no time for formalities.

She dismounted from the Black-Scaled Wyvern and strode toward Iswida.

Then, in a cold, urgent voice, she spoke—

"Iswida, take me to the Plane of Eternal Slumber."

"I must see the Tower Master personally."

…

Cangting Ancient Kingdom, Historical Echo.

Sylvia stood silently amidst the magnificent sea of flowers, gazing down at the capital and the vast ocean beyond.

Xia Ya stood beside her in silence, watching the endless field of blossoms, the tranquil city, and the sunlit coastline.

A long while passed before Sylvia moved slightly, opening her diary and writing down a few words to show Xia Ya—

"Such a beautiful view."

She had heard of this place before, but she had never visited it herself.

Now that she was finally here, the scenery was far more breathtaking than she had ever imagined.

Xia Ya nodded. "Isn’t it?"

Slowly, the sun sank lower, eventually disappearing beneath the sea’s horizon.

The golden afterglow cast its final rays upon the ocean, forming a perfect circle as the sun and its reflection met.

The flower fields atop the hill, along with the city below, were draped in a faint golden veil.

It was the sun’s final brilliance—before long, the silent night would envelop the entire city.

At that moment, flames flickered at the edges of the capital below.

At first, only a few scattered fires appeared.

But soon, like a raging inferno, the flames spread rapidly, engulfing much of the capital in its grasp.

The blazing fire dyed the dimming sky red, its glow reflected in Sylvia’s eyes.

What’s happening?

Was there an accident in an alchemical experiment? A fire in the city?

Sylvia watched in a daze as the city below was set ablaze, its glow standing out like a bonfire in the depths of the night.

But before she could fully process it, the words that reached her ears shook her to the core, shattering any distractions.

"Sylvia, I have something to tell you."

Xia Ya’s voice was gentle, making Sylvia unconsciously tighten her grip on the hem of her dress.

A startled, deer-like panic flashed in her eyes, mixed with nervous anticipation and joy. Even the words she hastily wrote in her diary became uneven.

"What is it?"

"Sylvia, close your eyes first."

Xia Ya’s voice was as gentle as ever, but there was something beneath it—something she failed to notice.

Her heart filled with happiness, sweetness, and nervousness, she could not have possibly detected the undertone in his words.

She nodded obediently and closed her eyes.

Is Xia Ya going to confess to me?

Or… is he going to kiss me?

Will it be on my forehead or my lips…

How should I respond to him?

Even though we aren't related by blood, Xia Ya is still an extended member of the family. Would Father or the elders in the family accept us?

But even if they disapprove, we could always elope—

That might disappoint Father, but if I could be with Xia Ya, I wouldn’t mind giving up my noble status.

Living in some peaceful place, hidden away in the mountains, doesn’t sound so bad.

Speaking of which, if we get married, what should we name our children…?

Sylvia’s mind was filled with countless overlapping thoughts.

She slightly lifted herself onto her toes, nervous yet hopeful, her heart brimming with longing and expectation.

But—

A few seconds later.

What reached her ears was not the anticipated confession.

It was a long, heavy sigh.

"So, Sylvia, you still don’t understand."

"Admiration—"

"Is the emotion most distant from true understanding."

Wh… What?

Before she could react.

A sharp, searing pain suddenly erupted from her chest.

She barely managed to open her eyes.

What she saw—

Was a crimson blade, piercing straight through her chest.

And the black-haired boy’s face—

Wearing an expression Sylvia had never seen before.

An expression completely unfamiliar to her.

"Well then—"

"Farewell, Sylvia."

A cold voice echoed through the vast mountain air.

Scalding-hot blood dripped onto the pale violet night orchid field, staining it with a vibrant red.

Like—

Foll𝑜w current novels on fɾēewebnσveℓ.com.

A bloodstained rose.