Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Freeing the Caged Bird
God created His incarnations based on seven virtues, praised by the world as the seven great angels.
But the corruption of human hearts gave birth to mirror images directly opposite to the seven virtues. Fallen angels and evil monsters seized the authority of original sin and opposed the great angels in hell. These are the seven great demons despised by humanity.
The fourteen paths correspond to and parallel each other. Transcenders follow the guidance of their paths, with angels and demons standing eternally at the end of fate’s woven lines.
But the mysterious Witch path broke this iron rule.
Their dreams and murmurs reveal the obscure future. Their undefined and unbound fate wanders beyond the control of angels and demons—disruptors and destroyers of order.
Is this why witches are so hated?
Finis was noncommittal about such claims.
She didn’t really care what angel believers or demon followers thought about witches. The countless crimes these women had committed in their unstable state of mind were enough for Finis to regard them with hostility.
“So you briefly stepped onto the Lust path while advancing from eighth rank to seventh rank, and then onto the Pride path when advancing from fourth rank to third rank. Even witches themselves don’t know what the result of their next advancement will be. Is that what you mean, Miss Witch?”
Deliberately ignoring topics related to faith, Finis questioned the supernatural characteristics of the witch path itself.
“Indeed, you understand quickly.” Chesia took a sip from her cup. “Being bound and drawn by different paths at different ranks, facing repeated trials and torment in both body and spirit—that’s what advancement is like for a witch.”
“So that’s why you stopped at the third rank…”
With this insight, Finis immediately understood why Chesia hadn’t advanced to the second rank.
The changes brought by a path never affected just the transcender’s body and supernatural characteristics. Their tendencies, thoughts, and personalities were also influenced and guided to some extent. The constant unpredictability of witch path advancement meant they would inevitably suffer greatly from the huge disparities after both physical and mental transformations.
Higher ranks meant witches had experienced more drastic changes. Aged witches had broken bodies. Aged witches had fragile minds. Aged witches were vulnerable.
“I’m ready for advancement, Miss Witch.”
Even after understanding all this, Finis still pushed herself forward.
“After hearing about all those dangers, yet still moving forward without hesitation—is that courage or foolishness?” The black-haired witch’s tone grew slightly colder, her posture frozen as she held her teacup.
“This is a necessary path.” Finis lowered her gaze.
Although it sounded frightening, from her perspective, witch advancement wasn’t entirely disadvantageous.
Setting aside the fact that raising a transcender’s rank itself represented a tremendous leap in physical condition and abilities, the random uncertainty of the witch’s advancement path differed from other paths that progressed step by step. After experiencing multiple advancements, witches would master various vastly different supernatural characteristics. Broad adaptability and limitless possibilities were unique advantages of witches.
Now Chesia had given Finis an opportunity—a chance to advance from the ninth rank to the eighth rank as a witch.
Should she accept it?
Finis detested her witch identity, but she no longer had the right to be stubborn about so-called faith or principles.
As long as this sinful, blasphemous body existed in the world for one more day, Finis’s conscience and soul would burn for one more day. She had to completely annihilate her current self.
Finis wanted to kill Chesia.
To achieve this, she would use any means necessary.
“Most girls in the society are only willing to stay at the ninth or eighth rank, because the higher you advance, the easier it is to lose sanity and fall into madness. Rather than pursuing power, they cherish their present lives, and I respect their choices and wishes.” Chesia no longer judged Finis’s “hasty” decision and suddenly changed the subject.
“So the society currently lacks fighting power, and you need someone to do the fighting.” Finis gently raised her eyes.
She wasn’t truly an inexperienced young girl. The soul of a dependable forty-year-old man easily heard the hidden meaning in Chesia’s words, and she herself clearly understood that years of sharpening a blade in the dark was only for the day it could be unsheathed.
Finis was that blade hiding in the shadows.
“A ‘reformed witch’ who won’t be tempted or bewitched by whispers—your existence is a miracle. I hope you’re aware of this.” Chesia put down her porcelain cup and caressed the girl’s face.
“But you clearly know what I’m thinking.” Finis gently held Chesia’s slender arm, leaning slightly to nuzzle the black-haired witch’s warm palm. “You clearly know what I need.”
She smiled.
Dignified.
“I don’t care what happens to them.” She spoke softly. “I only want to be able to kill you. That’s enough for me.”
Obsessive.
Mercurial.
Yet Finis didn’t feel anything was wrong with her.
She was a witch; this was perfectly normal. She had tasted hatred from Chesia, she had learned ruthlessness from Chesia, and she would return everything to Chesia, eventually.
“Mmm♡—!?”
Before she could maintain that twisted, morbid smile for even a second, a blush crept up Finis’s cheeks.
“Don’t—don’t touch the horns… M-Miss Witch, I’m sorry…” Her light purple eyes grew misty, and the girl apologized and begged in a whimpering voice. “Eee—! Ah, please—please let go…”
A light, pleasant sound like silver bells mixed with her weak sobs.
Chesia had only moved her hand slightly upward from caressing the girl’s face, instantly revealing the true nature of the girl who had put on a cold front. She gently pinched the transparent horns that glittered with a dazzling glow under the candlelight, her technique bewitching and skilled.
“Remember to protect your horns when you’re outside. Don’t be like this, turning into a small fry as soon as someone grabs them,” Chesia said calmly.
“Outside? Protect? Eh?” Finis was dazed. “Eee♡—!”
Chesia still hadn’t let go.
She continued pinching.
“That’s how dream demons are. A forty-year-old stubble-faced man who’s never been noticed can just fight mindlessly, but dream demons have many things to consider.”
“Uuu, I’ll protect them well… please—please spare me…” Finis’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Only then did Chesia release her small horns. “You’re right, I need fighters, I need combat power, so I hope you can advance successfully. Guess what I’m going to send you to do?”
“Hmm?”
Weakened and dazed, Finis lay in Chesia’s arms, unable to understand the situation.
“The potion for the eighth rank of the witch path is missing one final ingredient. The warehouse in our hideout is empty.” The black-haired witch patted her smooth cheek. “I want you to go collect it yourself. Any objections?”