Hate me, Miss Witch!
Chapter 54 - 42 Such times, if they could continue forever (two in one)_2

Chapter 54: Chapter 42 Such times, if they could continue forever (two in one)_2

Although powerful Beastmasters could change the tide of a battle, the creations of magictech were also not to be underestimated in warfare at the national level.

...

Their question-and-answer session continued for a long time, only stopping when Silvia’s diary was filled with several pages of her graceful handwriting.

Some of her questions were very systematic, even delving into philosophical depths, such as the reasons behind the changing seasons and the morphological differences in the same Pet Beast species across different regions.

Consequently, Shiayar, as a transmigrator, felt the urge to share his knowledge and explained earnestly to her.

And some of Silvia’s questions seemed a bit nonsensical.

For example, why did Princess Knights, who seemed stronger, always lose to goblins that were supposedly much weaker on paper?

Or why did the city guards and the Jurisdiction Bureau, despite having received reports long beforehand, always arrive late to an incident, only after the criminal had succeeded?

This forced Shiayar to explain repeatedly that these were plot conveniences contrived by authors for storytelling purposes—just fictional tales, not to be taken as truth.

The reason for such a contrast was not hard to understand, because Silvia’s worldview was broken and incomplete.

She had never been outside the Royal Capital, nor had she had the chance for casual conversation with outsiders.

Every night and every day, she remained in her small courtyard, reading ancient books and illustrated storybooks from her family’s library.

Then, through those dry lines of text, she would imagine the world’s true appearance: the snow-capped mountains of the Far North, the endlessly vast Golden Plains, and the silent, profound Forest of Sages.

So, in the world as Silvia perceived it, female knights were like fools, either senselessly losing in goblin lairs or on their way to doing so.

The world was full of Demon Kings and evil dragons kidnapping princesses, as well as countless senile old monarchs—

Despite being rulers controlling vast armies, they never personally led troops to rescue anyone. Instead, they pinned their hopes on some young Brave Hero fresh out of the novice village, offering as a reward merely the sharpest sword in the village.

Noble heirs, apparently with nothing better to do, would insist on pursuing romance with individuals from rival families, only stopping when it led to the ruin of their houses and their mutual death for love.

Princes, meanwhile, would always ignore well-matched princesses from neighboring kingdoms, instead shamelessly pursuing a village girl who understood neither noble etiquette nor makeup, possessing no apparent merit other than her kindness.

The two stayed on the beach until late afternoon, as the sky gradually grew dark. The tide, shimmering with sunset hues, lapped against the sand with white foam.

Silvia quietly gazed at the twilight sky, appearing as if she hadn’t had her fill.

"Don’t be sad; there will be other chances," Shiayar said.

"When your condition stabilizes and you can freely control the power of the Bronze Crucifix...

"Then, we’ll ask His Grace the Grand Duke for permission to travel, and we’ll go see the world across the sea with our own eyes."

Shiayar patted Silvia’s head.

The future Gray-Silver Witch’s chestnut hair was very soft, with strands of silver-white mixed in.

While Shiayar was stroking her hair, Silvia showed no resistance but continued to gaze into the distance.

She held her pen, writing gently on the paper for a long time before handing it to Shiayar.

"Actually... it doesn’t matter if we don’t go across the sea," she had written on the paper.

"I am already very content with the present."

She lowered her eyelids slightly, like a cat that had done something wrong.

Shiayar’s expression softened slightly.

Only then did Shiayar understand why he and Silvia had grown close so quickly. He had always been a cautious person, not one to easily trust others—otherwise, he would never have escaped Ceylon as it was engulfed by flames and smoke.

It was because, eight years ago in another time and space, Shiayar had also met a girl like Silvia who had lost everything, cat-like in her demeanor.

After eight years together, Shiayar had grown accustomed to her companionship.

The feeling was unique, like having a black cat. Usually, you barely noticed its presence, but when it truly disappeared, its absence would make every detail of life feel empty and incomplete.

So, when Shiayar met Silvia, he unconsciously felt a sense of familiarity and closeness to her, as if they were not new acquaintances but had known each other for ages.

Shiayar turned his gaze away, not responding to Silvia’s written words.

Only he knew that this seemingly ordinary daily life was, for the entire Azure Garden Dukedom, a miracle that would become incredibly precious in time.

It was the last twilight of an ancient dukedom—seemingly beautiful, yet as fragile as a dream bubble, shattering at a touch.

From a purely utilitarian perspective, after completing the task of reaching the third stage of Silvia’s affection, Shiayar had no real need to invest so much effort in her.

In Shiayar’s own time and space, the fate of this ancient dukedom was already sealed.

And whether the current Echo of History was a reflection of bygone days or an intersecting parallel world... it actually made no difference to Shiayar.

He could have treated everything in this Echo of History as a game—a game for him to grind for system novice task rewards, where everyone within was equivalent to an NPC.

He could have gone on a killing spree in this high-fidelity, fully immersive game, or used all sorts of unscrupulous, unethical, and dishonorable tactics to speedrun and rack up points, just as he had done in countless P-society games in his previous life.

After all, once he exited the Echo of History, it would be as if nothing had happened. Even the most morally fastidious saint wouldn’t condemn his actions in a mere game.

But Shiayar knew he couldn’t do it.

He didn’t consider himself a moral purist; his principles weren’t particularly lofty, and at times, he could even be described as ’not quite human.’

But some things were just like that: even when you knew a certain path was more advantageous, you still couldn’t bring yourself to take it.

...

"Pardon the interruption, Lord Shiayar, Miss Silvia."

A voice called out from far behind them on the beach.

It was a member of the Brunestadt family, his attitude very respectful.

If Shiayar before his coming-of-age ceremony was merely an expendable member of the family with a different surname, then after the ceremony, he had become a focal point and a rising star within the family.

Moreover, Shiayar seemed to be highly regarded by Elder Norton, the acting Family Head.

His gaze swept furtively over Silvia, carrying a hint of aversion and fear, though he didn’t let it show. "Lord Shiayar," he said, "Lord Norton requests your presence."

"Alright, lead the way."

Shiayar nodded, patted Silvia on the head, and then stood up.

He had remained in the Echo of History for so long after his coming-of-age ceremony precisely to await the final part of this phase’s task.

Watching Shiayar’s retreating figure, Silvia remained on the beach as the light gradually dimmed.

She spread her diary open on her lap and began to write, facing the waning, yellow rays of the setting sun.

*Today, I came to the Grant Sea again.*

*The last time I was here, I harbored thoughts of ending my life, but this time, my state of mind is completely different.*

*I saw a rainbow on the beach after the rain. It was very beautiful, like a bridge connecting heaven and earth.*

*Brother Shiayar said that a long, long time ago, a large group of people gathered in a place called Babylon. They used fired bricks and bitumen to build a colossal tower intended to reach the divine realm.*

*But this act angered the gods above, so They cursed the people, causing them to speak different languages.*

*So, the once-united people fell apart, leaving behind only the unfinished Tower of Babel. What a pity.*

*I talked with Brother Shiayar about many things until dusk.*

*Meeting him on that cold winter night... That might be the luckiest thing that has ever happened to me.*

*I hope that times like these—*

*—can last forever... That would be wonderful.*

—Excerpted from "Diary of the Cangyin Witch," page nine, Holy Calendar Year 346, Month of Sprouting, 23rd.