Sorcerer’s Handbook

The figure of the White Queen gradually faded away, leaving the Black Witch alone on the bed.

She spread her arms and lay down, closing her swollen eyes, swallowing the cries in her throat, replacing them with another kind of tremor.

“Heh heh…”

“Heh heh heh ha ha ha…”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“She agreed, she agreed! But what good does it do? She can’t protect anything, we can’t protect anything! Nothing will change, the princess in the tower is bound to fall, tonight is the turning point… tonight…”

Towards the end, the Black Witch couldn’t suppress the laughter from the depths of her soul. She laughed so hard that her whole body shook and even pounded the mattress, her tightly closed eyes streaming with tears of laughter, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth in mockery. She laughed until she was out of breath but continued laughing, until her body finally gave out, collapsing into a heap of exhaustion.

She looked like a madwoman.

“It’s rare to see you this happy. Do you have something amusing to share?”

The witch stood beside her head, looking down at her with great interest.

“…Nothing amusing.”

“I see. Well, it’s time for you to go back,” the witch said. “The brief and pleasant game is over.”

Snap.

A hand grabbed the witch’s ankle.

The witch turned her head and saw the girl in the black dress still lying on the ground, but she had reached out and grabbed her ankle.

When the girl in the black dress lifted her head, the witch saw a familiar yet strange look in her eyes.

Dark, clear, bright.

No bloodstains spreading, no crazed murkiness.

“…Black Witch?” The witch’s voice carried a trace of disbelief. “You’re awake?”

The Black Witch didn’t speak. She just stared at the witch. This was what the sisters hated most about each other – even without any words, eye contact alone was enough to convey everything.

Her only way of expressing her stance was by holding the witch’s ankle, humble yet firm.

However, the witch didn’t look at her but turned her gaze elsewhere.

It was rush hour now, and the White Witch was also off work.

She wore a pure white ceremonial dress she hadn’t worn in a long time, lying weakly on the ground, light as a lost snowflake.

“Do you all play until you’re completely exhausted?” the witch said. “In that case, I guess I’m the restrained one?”

Hearing the witch’s voice, the pure white girl opened her eyes and struggled to crawl to the witch’s side, grabbing her other ankle. She didn’t say anything, just looked up at the witch, her pure eyes welling with pleading tears.

“The Black Witch is awake, and the White Witch has returned?”

The witch squatted down, looking at them both with a puzzled expression, like a child discovering a long-lost toy suddenly reappearing on the desk.

Soon, she clapped her hands in sudden realization.

“So that’s it!”

“No wonder the Observer was so generous this time, allowing us to interfere deeply with reality!”

“He couldn’t have failed to foresee the chaos our actions would cause. Given his cautious style, we shouldn’t have been assigned this task at all. I used to think he wanted to leverage our numbers and now that Ashe has recently gained the Secret Incarnation, he could shape Ashe into an unbeatable supervillain.”

“But now it seems his target wasn’t Gospel at all, it was us!”

“Or rather, it was you two!”

“He predicted the Dream’s impact on you, so he deliberately let us out. You two are his achievement, an eighteen-to-two chance, and he won that bet.”

The witch marveled at the Observer’s cunning, looking down at the sisters lying on the ground. “But he also lost the bet.”

“Even if you’re willing to sacrifice yourselves,” the witch said deliberately, “I may not allow it.”

“I’m not like the Sword Princess. She can watch Sonya live a better life, but when I see Lise Deya gaining the happiness I never had, I feel nothing but disgust and sour envy.”

“I actually want to like her, after all, she is my past self. But when I see Ashe treating her so well, see her comfortably overcoming every challenge, see her smiling every moment… all I feel is anger and jealousy.”

“There are countless voices in my mind questioning me—”

“Why her? Why not me?”

“Why can she avoid suffering? Why do I have to endure everything?”

“What did she do right to have everything? How bad am I to get nothing?”

The witch tilted her head, staring at the two of them. “Speaking of which, are those voices my own thoughts or your whispers?”

“I wish she could suffer twice the fate I once endured, be ravaged, tormented, twisted into a monster uglier and more pitiful than I am,” the witch’s beautiful face was full of cruel malice. “Only then would I feel a bit of comfort.”

“I can’t even harm her fast enough, how could I possibly help her?”

The boiling malice transmitted through their skin to the Black and White Witches’ hearts, but they knew they were only touching the bubbles born from the boiling surface. Below was an abyssal sea of darkness, filled with immense, murky, and un-evaporating despair.

And this was already after it had been shared among seventeen sisters.

Because the witch bore the most despair, she also wielded the greatest power—though it was not by choice.

“Yes…”

“I’m sorry.”

Both the witch and the Black Witch were stunned. They looked at the White Witch, as if trying to find traces of a joke.

“Though it’s a bit late… it might be very late, but I’m sorry.” The White Witch tried to suppress the sobs in her voice but completely failed, her choking repeatedly interrupting her words. “So, I hope, at least I can…”

“Do you think after all this time, I would care about a late apology from you?”

The witch stood up. “Yes, I care.”

Smack!

The witch kicked the White Witch in the abdomen, sending her flying several meters away. The surrounding white mist scattered, making way for her tumbling path.

Then the witch bent down and grabbed the Black Witch, pulling her up. “What about you? Do you have anything to say to me?”

“No,” the Black Witch said calmly. “I have never wronged you.”

“You sure have some nerve…” The witch sneered. “But why? The White Witch is one thing, but you, Black Witch, you’re not the self-sacrificing type. I thought you were like me, someone who can’t stand seeing others do well.”

She glanced at the White Witch struggling to get up in the distance. “No matter how much you sacrifice, you’re not protecting your queen. Your past won’t change in the slightest, your suffering won’t be reduced by a fraction.”

“In the end, ‘making up for regrets’ is no different from ‘self-consolation.’ It’s all just self-deception. The idea that making up for past regrets can erase past suffering… that sort of thing never exists!”

“Black Witch, be good, go back to sleep.” The witch gazed into her dark pupils, her voice melodious and captivating. “You’ve already escaped from reality, don’t come back.”

The Black Witch shook her head.

“But I’m dreaming right now.”

She smiled sincerely, her lips curling up. “So, this time, don’t let me wake up. Just let me drown in the Dream, okay?”

The witch was slightly taken aback, releasing her grip and allowing the Black Witch to sit on the ground.

The black Butler embraced the witch’s waist, clinging to her like a baby koala to its mother, or a little sister seeking affection from her older sister.

“Well played, Observer.”

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