Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva-Chapter 1133 - 155: The Figure Among the Rose Bushes_3

As the prayers were recited, bursts of wind rose, and air currents swept through this underground base, ringing the wind chimes under many of the building eaves. The wind blew past the enormous stele, increasing in speed due to the narrow passage effect, swirling the robes of many sacrificial personnel present.

La Gui’er and a group of priests clasped their hands together, eyes closed in prayer, as the wind grew louder. The once tranquil pool now formed rippling vortices, while Blanchi at this moment was centered in the vortex, slowly sinking beneath the water.

Originally, she thought breathing would be difficult, but as the liquid entered her lungs and body, she felt no discomfort. It was as though the liquid contained oxygen, remarkably light; if this water filled a balloon, it could soar upwards.

She found it peculiar that such a liquid hadn’t directly evaporated away; but now, Blanchi only felt a bit sleepy, while the original pain and weakness in her body were soothed by a faint feeling of coolness.

As the ritual proceeded, minute by minute, luminous patterns gradually articulated on this broad plaza, rising strands of pale red threads that weren’t solid, more like points of light free-roaming.

The threads swayed, shifted in the wind, forming a three-dimensional scene, as if in a courtyard tangled with vines, flowers, and ears of corn. Then, as the breeze brushed past, the dangling branches and flowers outlined by the red threads slightly swayed.

In the end, in this serene courtyard of vine and blossom, a crimson fruit slowly condensed. Its brilliant red seemed to conceal some sort of toxin; when it appeared, the entire courtyard shimmered with a faint golden light, then the entire illusory garden vanished, leaving only the scarlet blood-red fruit, exuding a tempting fragrance.

"It has appeared, the crimson fruit constructed with various authorities—plenty, poison, blood, purity." La Gui’er raised her head, observing the descending blessing.

Though they hosted the ritual, the fruit of such grace was their first encounter, praying to the four primordial entities was not easily successful. As the entities who once supported the Solar Crowns, they were naturally able to perceive the desires of the people. If this wish lingered in the subconscious of many or was the yearning that aligned with the primordial entities’ character inclinations, the four sleeping primordials would respond, bestowing grace.

In some respects, the four primordials were indeed the guardians of human civilization. However, similar prayers hadn’t succeeded often over the millennia; this time, it was because members of the cult sensed the possibility of success that they dared to take action, reaching out to Blanchi and others.

To them, the response from the four primordials represented a certain destiny’s guidance.

The crimson, blood-like fruit gradually fell into the water, instantly dissolving, turning the entire pool an intense red. Subsequently, this myriad-layered red vortex continually spun, step by step seeping into Blanchi’s body, starting to repair her physique, consciousness, soul.

In slumber, Blanchi felt herself seemingly running through a garden full of blood-red roses. The scenery here was exquisite, the air faintly fragrant with flowers. But along the way, the thorns on the flower branches sketched out cuts on her arms and legs, causing pain.

She constantly parted the rose bushes obstructing the path, while the breeze brushing past also slightly cooled the wounds, slowly healing them.

Thus, amid constant injury and healing, Blanchi felt her body becoming lighter, certain tangled and troublesome thoughts gradually dispersed, her entire being, both consciousness and body, transforming into one of ethereality and clarity without distractions, extraordinarily light.

Slowly, she began to glimpse the end of this sea of flowers courtyard, as if a figure sat under the canopy of flowering vines behind the veil of flora and white stone columns.

Finally, she used her hand to part the last thorned rose branches, passing through the isolating floral vines, witnessing the figure turning their back on her. The person, clad in a black dress, sat beside a white round table. As Blanchi awkwardly extricated herself from the flower thorns, the figure began to slowly turn around. freewebnøvel_com

What was revealed were eyes so clear and magnificent, layered with infinite hues of red. This reminded Blanchi of the diverse colors seen through the irregular glass blocks played with in her childhood when sunlight struck.

The person had silky, straight long hair, wearing a black and red gown, where black satin folds portrayed elegance, and red rose embellishments demonstrated a kind of aggressive vitality.

"You are..." Blanchi extended her hand, sensing she had seen this young lady somewhere, but her memory was now veiled with a fine haze, becoming dim and fuzzy.

Perhaps because she was in a dream, Blanchi gradually realized.

The young lady gently smiled at Blanchi, then spoke: "You may call me Leixi."

"Hmm." Blanchi felt that everything before her was somewhat dreamlike, as if guided by some inertia and unknown voice, she slowly approached and sat down before the young lady.

Opposite, the girl who called herself ’Leixi’ slowly poured Blanchi red tea from a teapot, placing it in front of her.

"Do you know the story of the ’True Red Empire’? At that time, humans chose the power called ’demon’ to survive." Leixi spoke of a history that Blanchi somewhat recalled.

"That was something from the First Era, right?" Blanchi responded. Nowadays, in the Federation’s education, history from the First Era is not thoroughly covered, only briefly.