Witch Monastery

At the sight of the vine, Hattie's face turned pale. She knew it was too late for words now.

"She's gone… fled to Goddess-knows-where…"

A flicker of despair rose in her heart. All hope was lost. Sephera had escaped far beyond their reach—with her powers, how could they ever find her in the vast world outside?

And when Theresa learned of this…

The archwitch would return to the monastery in wrath.

Then, surely, their doom would come.

Ruth gritted her teeth but remained calm.

"Tracking her is impossible now. We must abandon this place—Transfer immediately!"

It was the safest decision she could make.

Yet Charles looked up at the scorching sun overhead, and a doubt stirred in his mind.

No.

It was high noon, the streets bustling with crowds.

Would Sephera truly dare to reveal her monstrous true form and sprint at full speed down Main Street?

Unlikely.

She must have hidden somewhere nearby.

Hiss…

If so, the perfect hiding spot—the one place they'd overlook—was…

His thoughts raced. He summoned the system, activated the map function, and scanned the aerial view.

There it was.

Amid the white dot marking his position and the four green dots for Hattie, Ruth, Ekta, and Andny…

A glaring red dot pulsed—the marker of a hostile presence.

The corners of Charles' mouth curled into a smile.

Sephera…

Sephera, you are still hiding in the monastery!

...

In the scriptorium, Sephera huddled in the corner, retracting the green, pale-pink, and yellow vines protruding from her body. Within moments, she regained the alluring appearance of a nun.

Yet now, her face bore no trace of its usual composure or taunting smirk—only raw rage and gnashing teeth toward the traitors!

Those two bastards...… and that human. Unforgivable. They will pay.

But why had they turned out like this? What happened in the monastery? Even Theresa's foresight hadn't predicted this?

Her heart trembled. Had she not spotted the dense mist rising over the monastery—Ekta's unmistakable power—and hurried back, she'd have been doomed.

A mere two seconds slower, and Hattie and Ruth would've hidden Ekta's corpse. She'd have trusted them blindly… and walked into their ambush.

Gasping softly, she steadied herself, gathering strength while biding her time.

No one ever came to the scriptorium. If she waited patiently till sunset, until darkness swallowed the land, she could escape the monastery—to true safety and freedom…

Then, through the window, footsteps approached. Hattie's frantic voice followed:

"Master, what do we do? Archwitch Theresa's power is too great. Even combined, we're no match for her!"

Master?!

Hattie, that bastard, actually sincerely called that human "Master"!

Sephera seethed inwardly: You're the most shameless witch ever spawned by the material world! Bowing to a human as Master? I bet he's explored every inch of you by now!

Disgusting. Vile.

At least they knew their limits. Heh. Once Theresa returns, you'll all pay.

Ruth's voice chimed in: "Sephera's fast—she's surely far gone by now. Tracking her's impossible. Our only choice is to flee before Theresa arrives."

Sephera frowned. Even Ruth had fallen so low?

Damn it. If those two ambushed her together, escape might be impossible.

Fortunately, they thought I had left the monastery. So, as long as they don't rush into the scriptorium, I'm safe.

Outside, the white-haired man spoke last: "We can't oppose Theresa. Gather only the essentials in your rooms. We leave at once—for the East Harbor District."

"Understood!" The witches replied in unison before their footsteps faded.

Hearing this, Sephera finally allowed herself to relax, her tension dissolving—only for her teeth to clench in quiet fury.

The East Harbor District, hm? Heh. Just wait until I bring Theresa back. I'll drag every last one of you out and make you suffer beyond imagination!

Especially that human. How dare you make highborn witches call you 'Master'? Just you wait—I'll show you true torment!

I'll drive a wasp's sting into every fingertip of yours until you beg for death!

I'll sink a viper's fangs into your palms, letting its venom sear through your bones!

And then I'll set jellyfish upon your feet, their toxins eating away at your soles…

Hah—

Suddenly, a swirl of black mist erupted at her feet. Thick, ink-green tentacles surged forth, coiling around her curled body in an instant. Corrosive energies gnawed at her flesh, and within seconds, her nun's habit was reduced to tattered rags!

"Ghk—!"

A choked groan of agony tore from Sephera's throat. She struggled against the bindings—but Hattie's spell was only the beginning. The true horror was yet to come.

Screech—!

The scriptorium's window burst open. A petite silhouette vaulted inside, a blade flashing in her hand.

Shhk—!

The slash split Sephera's shoulder, spraying toxic green-laced purple blood across the floor. A shrill, piercing shriek followed—the Toxic Witch's voice, raw with pain.

"Aaaagh—!"

Agony—from the wound, from her draining power—flooded her senses. And with it came a crushing realization:

I'm going to die.

Terror, primal and suffocating, clawed up her spine, shaking her very soul.

No. I have to escape. At any cost.

"roar--"

A bestial snarl rumbled in her throat. Her body convulsed—swelling, stretching, twisting. Delicate skin split apart, replaced by gnarled vines in grotesque shades of green, purple, and pale-pink, coiling like a monstrous, multicolored serpent.

And then—her own vines lashed out, ensnaring Hattie's tentacles in a vicious counterattack!

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