“Why!!”
In the gloomy dungeon, the girl’s sobbing echoed endlessly.
The prisoners in the dungeon were all tormented by the explosive crying, especially Mozhi, who suffered even more with her four ears.
At this moment, Siltuya was clinging desperately to Mozhi’s leg, no matter how much she kicked or shook, she couldn’t shake her off—she was even clingier than Windsor, who slept like a log!
“Have you had enough! I have a home to go back to—why do I have to leave with you?”
“Th-th-then, Teacher, take me with you! Woohoo!”
“No!”
The two words, firm and unyielding, made Siltuya cry even harder the moment she heard them.
Her wailing went straight to Mozhi’s head, so much that even her hair seemed to bristle.
“No matter how loud you cry, it’s still no! Besides, if we tried to leave now, those Sheng Qi Shi in the castle would chop us to bits!”
Seeing that her crying, which always used to soften her teacher’s heart, was ineffective, Siltuya quickly tried another tactic.
Though she didn’t know why her teacher had become like this, or why she didn’t remember her, she had finally reunited with the person she had longed for over a hundred years.
How could she possibly be willing to let her go?
Her gaze landed on the gray-haired girl that Mozhi had been holding all this time.
Suddenly, her teary eyes lit up.
She hurriedly stood up, brushed the dust off her clothes haphazardly, and, hands on her hips, pointed confidently at the girl in Mozhi’s arms.
“If Teacher takes me back, I can bring her back to life!”
“You can bring her back?!”
Mozhi’s eyes widened in shock, hope flickering anew in her heart.
But when she saw the girl’s face covered in tears and snot, most of that hope was immediately extinguished.
A girl who cried this much hardly looked like someone capable of healing magic—let alone resurrection, a nearly impossible feat.
“Revive the dead? That’s impossible…”
The silent witch beside them finally spoke, hugging her bear, her voice thick with skepticism.
“Then tell me, how are you going to do it?”
“My clan has a kind of magic that can keep a dead person’s soul in a vessel. Once the body is repaired, the soul can be sent back. And I’m the only one who can use this magic.”
“There’s no way a magic like that exists! Even if it were possible to keep a soul, which is already far-fetched, the gods would never allow such a blasphemous magic to exist!”
When she was in the Academy of Magic, she had learned that all magic in this world was brought by the gods.
While the gods had blessed the world with convenient magic, there were lines that could not be crossed—any magic concerning life and death was forbidden, as it desecrated life and threatened the gods’ dominion over both.
Yet, the girl insisted, her voice full of conviction, “As a Saintess, I never lie! This girl was already killed by the guards before, and I brought her back!”
The more the girl spoke, the more the witch felt she was spouting nonsense—it was already against everything she had learned.
She snapped impatiently, “Then revive her right now and show me!”
“I…”
The girl’s voice immediately faltered, turning weak and timid.
“This magic can only be used every few days. I just used it yesterday, so I need to wait a few more days… And it has to be nighttime.”
“Hmph, I knew you were lying.”
“Say what you want!”
The girl was already at a loss for words.
Not wanting to argue further with the overbearing witch, she turned her gaze to Mozhi and pleaded, “Teacher, you’ll believe me, won’t you?”
Mozhi looked down at Windsor in her arms in silence.
This might be her last chance.
If so, she was willing to try.
The witch, seeing her hesitation, became anxious.
“You aren’t really going to try, are you?”
“This might be our only chance… I’m willing to try.”
She gently stroked Windsor’s cold, stiff cheek.
Where her eyes should have shone brightly, now only a dull sadness remained.
“Hehe, I knew Teacher would believe me!”
Siltuya grinned and pressed her face close, but Mozhi quickly pushed her away.
“Alright, alright, let’s focus on getting out of here first. If we wait any longer and that masked man finds us, he’ll definitely kill us. I can tell he doesn’t want us alive, so we have to escape as soon as possible.”
“The masked man…”
Siltuya thought hard, then remembered that when she entered the castle that morning, she had been greeted by a man in a mask.
Though his manners seemed gentle and refined, he didn’t seem like a good person—in fact, he didn’t seem quite human at all.
Now, thinking of his eyes made Siltuya’s skin crawl.
Judging by what others called him… he seemed to be the High Priest.
If that was the case, it wasn’t so surprising.
In her experience, priests were always oddballs; there was a crazy priest in her own clan, too.
They were called messengers of the gods, passing on divine decrees to mortals.
She herself, as a Saintess, did the same, but priests received divine words through ceremonies, while she received them through prayer.
Maybe those ceremonies were what turned priests into such strange, inhuman creatures.
Just thinking about having to take part in a blessing ceremony with him at the wedding made Siltuya shudder.
Would being blessed by someone like that really bring happiness…?
“Hey… Miss Saintess, can’t you just swagger out with us? You’re someone they’ve revered for ages.”
The witch suddenly asked.
“If I could, I would. But the guards only follow orders. I can scare them a little, but nothing more.”
“Scare…”
So much for being a Saintess.
Her mind raced, then her eyes suddenly lit up.
“That’s it… The blessing ceremony!”
“The blessing ceremony?”
“During the blessing ceremony, everyone present has to shut their eyes and offer prayers to the princess in their hearts. That’s your best chance to escape! Plus, the four Sheng Qi Shi will all be there for the wedding. As long as you, Miss Witch, can fly over their heads, you’ll be fine!”
“But my broom was taken. Without it, I can’t fly.”
“It’s just a broom—simple!”
She glanced around, then spotted a bloodstained broom in the corner of the dungeon.
“Here you go.”
A witch had strict standards for her magical tools.
She’d spent two months finding the broom that suited her best; choosing her wand had taken Mozhi a full year.
But now, there wasn’t much choice.
The witch sighed deeply and finally muttered, “Alright.”
She tested its weight—surprisingly, it felt quite handy, just a bit too dirty.
“Once you’re outside the royal city, wait for me at the chapel in the forest. That’s the plan—no more tricks!”