Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 36: And So, Sylvia Spoke No More

The cold moon cast its gentle glow over the silent courtyard, draping the flowers and plants in a silver sheen.

Sylvia sat quietly on the stone steps of the garden, gazing at the luminous moon in the night sky. Her violet eyes were lost in thought.

Beside her, a small tree bloomed with delicate white flowers, carrying a faint fragrance that brought a sense of calm to her heart.

It was a tree she had planted with her mother back when she was still alive. Now, its branches were full and lush.

Whenever she found herself restless in the middle of the night, Sylvia would come here, hoping to endure the long and difficult hours.

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It had been over a month since that winter night when she had fallen into the Grandet Sea.

Winter had passed, and spring had arrived, bringing warmth and renewal.

Yet, the boy named Xia Ya Egut had not appeared again.

By now, Sylvia sometimes wondered if that encounter in the icy waters had been nothing more than a dream.

But the warmth lingering on the crystal hairpin told her that what had happened was real, not an illusion.

"…I think—the power you carry does not define you as evil by nature."

"Whether you are good or evil is not determined by your origins, but by the choices you make."

The words of the black-haired boy still echoed in her ears.

"My… choices?"

Sylvia murmured into the evening breeze, her words dissipating unheard.

For the past month, she had been pondering this question.

She had also been contemplating the path she would take in the future.

For sixteen years, she had given up on herself.

She had curled up in a dark tower without light, waiting in silence for the darkness to consume her.

Or rather, she should have drowned in that darkness long ago.

But one month ago, someone had opened a window in that tower.

Sunlight had streamed in, forcing back the black tides. And for the first time, eyes that had long grown accustomed to darkness felt a longing for the light.

From that moment on, a new feeling arose within Sylvia’s heart—

Not to live merely in defiance of others' scorn, but to look forward to a future that belonged to her alone.

"As I thought…"

Sylvia reached up and removed the crystal hairpin from her auburn locks.

Under the moonlight, the crystal reflected countless shimmering hues.

She whispered to herself:

"I still want to be… a Beastmaster like Brother Xia Ya."

…

"Why do you want that?"

A familiar voice sounded beside her.

Sylvia turned her head.

Standing in the thin moonlight was a black-haired, dark-eyed boy. His slender shadow stretched endlessly across the ground.

Just like the first time they had met, he had appeared so silently, slipping into her life unnoticed—only to vanish like the wind.

"Brother Xia Ya."

Though she had envisioned their reunion countless times, now that it had truly come, Sylvia found herself feeling slightly flustered.

After returning to the Grand Ducal Estate, she had searched for records on Xia Ya Egut, the foreign-born member of her family.

And then she had discovered—

His parents had perished sixteen years ago in that very catastrophe. He had been an orphan taken in by the Grand Duke’s family.

He should have had more reason than anyone in the Principality to resent her, to hate her, to curse her existence…

Yet he had done none of those things.

On that winter night, he had pulled her from the icy abyss of the Grandet Sea.

Perhaps sensing Sylvia’s unease, Xia Ya sat down beside her on the steps.

It was only then that Sylvia noticed the two paper cups he held in his hands.

"It may be early spring, but the nights are still cold. Have something warm."

He handed her one of the cups, and she accepted it with a quiet “thank you.”

The cup was warm in her hands.

She took a small sip—and her violet eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"This is really good."

"Of course, it tastes great." Xia Ya said, a hint of pride in his voice. "It took me hundreds of failed attempts in the Alchemy Academy before I finally recreated it from memory. You can call it milk tea, or Youlemei."

"If someone from my world ever ends up here in the future, I hope they’ll get this ancient meme."

He took a sip from his own cup, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"But enough about that. Let’s talk about you. Why did you decide to become a Beastmaster?"

The warmth of the drink spread through Sylvia’s body, making her feel cozy and relaxed.

For some reason, whenever Xia Ya was around, the tension she usually felt would disappear.

She thought for a moment, then spoke in a calm tone.

"I suppose… it's admiration."

"When I was very young, I once saw my father riding his majestic Summoned Beast, returning triumphantly to the capital."

"Half the capital had come out to welcome him. The streets were lined with flowers, applause, and glory."

"Back then, I thought that if I could form a contract with a powerful Summoned Beast on my own—if I could become a strong Beastmaster like my father—"

"Then… maybe everyone would start seeing me differently. Maybe they wouldn’t hate me so much anymore."

As she spoke, Sylvia let out a soft laugh and tucked a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear.

"Looking back now, that was such a childish and even laughable reason."

"My circumstances… the way people see me… It’s not something that can be changed so easily."

"In fact, it’s quite the opposite. The stronger I become, the more people will probably wish for my death."

Her breath turned into a faint mist in the cold night air.

"But—"

"For the naïve and ignorant girl I once was, that distant, unrealistic hope became my only lifeline."

She turned her gaze to Xia Ya’s sharp, well-defined profile.

"I no longer hold such childish expectations."

"But still, I hold onto that admiration."

"Not for recognition, not for flowers, nor for glory and applause."

"But because… I want to be someone like my father and Brother Xia Ya."

"When I meet someone in need of help, I want to have the strength to reach out to them—just like you did for me that night."

"If my past truly left behind sins, then I will atone for them by saving others."

"And if that ‘thing’ inside me ever loses control again… then next time, I won’t need your help, Brother Xia Ya. I’ll knock that thing on the Bronze Cross unconscious myself."

"And besides—"

Sylvia hesitated slightly.

Beside her, on the stone steps, rested a thin book—

A travelogue written by a wandering bard, filled with illustrations of places across the Western Continent.

"I also want to see the places described in this book."

"I want to see the Three Sages' Snow Mountains in the Far North with my own eyes and find out if the Ice Spirit King truly exists at the mountain’s peak, just like in the books..."

"I want to visit the Dragon’s Nest in the South and see if the legendary dragons really do abduct princesses from human kingdoms and hoard piles of gleaming gold in their lairs..."

"I want to look into the depths of the sea and discover whether those enchanting sirens, who sing so beautifully and lure sailors to their doom, are real..."

As Xia Ya listened to Sylvia's words, he saw the light of longing shimmer in her deep violet eyes.

And he understood.

Because of the danger she posed, the Branstat Grand Duke Family had placed strict restrictions on her movements.

Throughout her life, her entire world had been confined to the Grand Ducal Estate—more specifically, to the silent courtyard that belonged solely to her.

She had only rarely ventured beyond the capital, and even then, it had been under strict supervision, such as when accompanying her father on royal inspections.

The night she had secretly run away, escaping to the Grandet Coast just a few miles from the capital, had been the farthest she had ever traveled. To her, that place was the edge of the world.

Her knowledge of the outside world came solely from the countless books and illustrated manuscripts stacked high in her room.

That was why she longed to become a Beastmaster.

Because in the adventure tales written by bards, only Beastmasters—protagonists of their own journeys—had the right to traverse the continent, to witness its boundless wonders.

"That’s… going to be a bit troublesome."

Xia Ya sighed, rubbing the little Snow Ferret on his shoulder.

"For you, becoming a Beastmaster won’t be easy."

"I didn’t expect you to say that, Brother Xia Ya. Shouldn’t this be the part where you encourage me?"

"Besides, you clearly told me before that one day, I would become an even stronger Beastmaster than my father."

Sylvia's voice held a trace of surprise, but not disappointment.

Her father had long told her about the abnormalities of her soul. Even forming a Soul Pact was an incredibly difficult task for her—let alone becoming a strong Beastmaster.

She was just surprised by Xia Ya’s response.

"The situation then was different from now. Giving empty words of encouragement is easy… kind of like when a little kid runs around yelling that they’ll be the richest person in the world, and I just nod along—‘Yeah, sure, sure.’"

"But your longing just now… that wasn’t empty."

Xia Ya met Sylvia’s gaze, a rare hesitation in his voice.

"Even if there's a possible future where you truly become a legendary powerhouse, that doesn’t mean the risks don’t exist."

Yes—Sylvia did become a legend in recorded history.

She became the Argent Witch, the founder of the White Chalk Tower.

But who could say for certain that the girl before him would walk the exact same path?

Xia Ya had never believed in fate or prophecy. And he couldn't simply view the girl in front of him—the one whose eyes glowed with hope—as nothing more than a historical projection, an inevitable event.

His initial goal had merely been to complete his beginner quest and claim his reward.

But after that winter night by the Grandet Sea—Xia Ya had started to see Sylvia as a friend.

"Cheering for someone’s dream without taking responsibility—that’s something anyone can do."

"But only those close to you will truly worry for you."

Xia Ya leaned back on the courtyard grass, gazing up at the silver moon.

"The Bronze Cross inside your soul—it’s both a burden and a shield."

"It was placed there by a legendary figure as a seal. As long as you ignore it, the Half-Body of Twilight within you will remain trapped by that cross until the seal wears off."

"The only thing you have to deal with are the occasional leaks of aura seeping through the seal."

"But that Bronze Cross also suppresses your soul’s power."

"If you want to form a Soul Pact—if you want to control your own fate—then you have to enter the depths of the Bronze Cross."

"You must abandon the protection of the seal. Break free from all restraints."

"And with your own will—stand face-to-face with the monster that nearly wiped out half of the Cangting Principality. Seize control of your soul’s power from it."

"The process will be long, painful, and perilous. It may take a lifetime to complete."

"You will pay an unimaginable price. And if you fail, you will either die—or become nothing more than Twilight’s puppet."

Xia Ya paused.

"So, I won’t cheer you on."

"Because just like your father—the Grand Duke Branstat—said, the safest choice for you is to maintain the status quo."

"But I also won’t stop you."

"Because I believe no one has the right to take away someone else’s dreams. Not even the gods."

…

When Sylvia finally came to her senses—

Xia Ya was gone.

Vanishing as silently as he had appeared.

But the hesitation and uncertainty in Sylvia’s violet eyes had disappeared as well.

For the first time in her life—

She had made a decision of her own will.

And when midnight came—

When that insane, decayed, golden hue once again seeped from the Bronze Cross—

Sylvia did not run.

She did not suppress it.

For the first time—

She chose to face it.

This was a battle between an Ancient God and a mere mortal.

The loser would lose everything.

…

That night, deep within the family’s secret chamber—

Elder Norton felt a vague unease.

It was as if some unseen disturbance had rippled through his carefully woven plans.

Yet no matter how much he checked, he could find nothing out of place.

And in the end, nothing seemed to happen.

…

But the following morning—

When Sylvia awoke once more—

Her violet eyes and chestnut hair had both taken on a pale hue.

And she had lost the ability to speak.

This was the price of glimpsing a god’s power with a mortal soul.

From that moment on—

Every word she spoke would carry the authority of Corruption, Contamination, and Death.

…

At the wooden desk, Sylvia opened the journal Xia Ya had given her.

By the dim candlelight, she began to write.

…

"…From now on, every word I speak will carry the curse of death."

"To avoid harming others, I will no longer speak aloud—even when I am alone."

"This silent curse will follow me… until either I, or that Ancient God, reaches the end of our existence."

"Brother Xia Ya once said, ‘No normal person writes in a diary.’"

"But I think… neither of us are normal people—we are heretics."

"After all, a normal person wouldn’t have dragged me into the sea with him. A normal person wouldn’t have ignored the hatred from the rest of our family and stayed by my side."

"But if even heretics can have friends—can comfort each other in their pain…"

"Then maybe…"

"Being a heretic isn’t so bad, after all?"

—Excerpt from The Argent Witch’s Diary,

Sacred Calendar 346, Month of Blossoms, 12th Day.