Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 143: Pinky Promise

“When moonlight falls upon my face,”

“I think… I’ll soon become someone new…”

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Inside the hotel room, Xia Ya hummed a little tune while channeling his spiritual energy, checking the various items within his Spatial Pocket and Soul Pact Space.

“Item reserves: confirmed.”

“Mental state: stable.”

“Mechanical construct, Undying Metal ‘Dracoserpent Mercury’, Black Knight unit, Lepton Fusion Array… confirmed.”

“Ready perfectly.”

Same words, same checklist—just like before entering the final act of the Historical Echo of the Cangting Ancient Kingdom.

Once everything was done, Xia Ya slowly turned around.

Then, he looked toward Ailora and Sylvia behind him.

“Well then, let’s begin.”

His voice was calm.

As if what he was about to do was no different than a casual stroll.

But in the silver-haired witch’s eyes, the weight of those words was anything but light.

Sylvia stared at the boy before her.

Black hair, dark eyes, tall figure.

His handsome face was sharply defined, expression unreadable—no one could guess what he was truly thinking.

He looked exactly like the youth she saw that day, standing amidst the burning ruins of the fallen Cangting Ancient Kingdom.

Back then, it was this dark-haired boy who had pulled her from the depths of darkness, giving her the courage to keep living.

He had become the brightest light in her life.

But this time was different.

Now, Sylvia understood clearly—that determination in his eyes was not for her.

It was for another woman.

Her lips parted slightly… but in the end, she said nothing.

She could only feel the sour ache in her chest, the silent bitterness in her heart.

It took a long time for the feeling to ease.

Then, Xia Ya heard her voice again, ringing through his spiritual sea.

“Brother Xia Ya, are you really sure you want to enter a Historical Echo again?”

Only this time, her voice carried a tangle of emotions not present before—

Unlike the calm, ethereal tone she usually held.

“You already experienced how violent the River of Time has become the last time you came back from a thousand years in the past.”

“Even returning downstream to your original point nearly got you lost in a time rift.”

“Let alone going upstream… again.”

Sylvia looked into Xia Ya’s eyes. “Brother Xia Ya, I know you’re hiding secrets… otherwise, with just a Second or Third Ring strength back then, there’s no way you could’ve crossed time and appeared before me.”

“But…”

The Argent Witch’s ethereal voice paused briefly:

“This time is different.”

“That’s right—this time is different.”

Xia Ya nodded without hesitation.

Through his Second Soul Pact, he had already received Shiny’s response.

Just Shiny alone was no longer enough—the path to the Historical Echo had become heavily obstructed. Entering again would be extremely difficult.

“That’s why I need you and Little Ai to stay in the current timeline, to break open the River of Time for me.”

“And also, to serve as my guideposts and anchors for the return journey, using the Holy Spear—and the bond we share.”

Sylvia’s lips trembled slightly.

“Do you really have to go?”

Her voice remained ethereal and clear, but now with a ripple of emotion.

“Well…”

Xia Ya thought for a moment, then answered softly, “If we’re being purely rational, there’s no real need for me to enter another Historical Echo.”

And that was true.

His second system quest was technically already complete… even if by accident.

He had, after all, earned the title of “Bringer of Ruin”—a name that would be cursed for centuries.

The rewards had already been distributed for the most part. Even if another dive could yield some additional gains, the risks were entirely disproportionate.

As for correcting twisted history—just like the Knowledge Grail had said,

Imaginary Belts would eventually be erased by correction forces.

All distortion and error would be righted, and the ones who caused them obliterated.

That was a fundamental principle carved into the very foundation of this world’s existence.

From the First Era until now, that law had never been broken.

Which was why, even after Isadella committed such earth-shaking deeds, only the Church of Dawn tried to intervene—

Nearly every other Demigod or True God stood aside and did nothing.

Because they knew everything she did was but a dream, a fleeting illusion.

And illusions—no matter how brilliant, how splendid—were destined to burst.

It was just a matter of time.

The lifespans of Mythical Creatures were vast enough to span entire eras.

In their eyes, Isadella’s actions were nothing but chasing shadows—utterly meaningless.

She had thrown away a hard-earned Throne-tier existence for nothing.

“But…”

Xia Ya shook his head slightly.

He also looked into Sylvia’s argent-blue eyes, without flinching.

“Unfortunately, as you can see, Sylvia—I’m exactly that kind of guy who chases fleeting dreams.”

He smiled faintly.

“If I don’t try to pull that princess back from her twisted path right here, right now—then I wouldn’t be Xia Ya.”

“Just like back in the Cangting Ancient Kingdom, no matter how sincere the invitations from Norton or the Twilight Ancient God were—

they weren’t trying to deceive me. They genuinely wanted to share their power and divinity with me…”

“I still chose to fire that shot at them.”

He reached out and gently patted the head of the Argent Witch before him.

Her pure silver hair still felt just as soft and silky as he remembered.

Noticing his touch, Sylvia’s eyes widened.

The gesture was so familiar.

Back when she wasn’t a Legend, nor the Tower Master of the White Chalk Tower—

Just an innocent, romantic daughter of a Grand Duke in a noble estate…

Brother Xia Ya would always pat her head like this, while telling her stories of the world beyond the Cangting Principality.

He spoke of the towering majesty of the Three Sages’ Snow Mountains, of the boundless expanse of the Golden Plains, of the sorrowful songs sung by the merfolk atop coral reefs—where their tears crystallized into pearls in the name of romantic love...

These were the most treasured memories in Sylvia’s heart—untouched by the passage of five hundred years, still fresh and vivid, never once fading.

And now, five hundred years later, they met again… though neither of them ever mentioned the past aloud.

In truth, the once-innocent girl had become a Throne-tier monarch reigning over all.

With that shift in identity and power—and the reversal in strength between them—Sylvia found a quiet, unspoken distance had grown between herself and Brother Xia Ya.

It wasn’t something either of them had done intentionally.

Neither Sylvia nor Xia Ya were the type to care too much about titles or ranks…

But that invisible wall was real.

And it made it impossible for their relationship to return to how it once was, back in the Branstat family estate five centuries ago.

That was why Sylvia had become so obsessed with using her manifested white cat self to act spoiled and cutesy, even at the risk of being found out and suffering social death.

Because she had realized—only in that form could she approach Xia Ya freely.

But at this very moment, Sylvia could clearly feel that the subtle tension between them… had quietly melted away like ice under the sun.

She was no longer the high and mighty Tower Master of the White Chalk Tower.

She was simply the innocent daughter of a Grand Duke.

Squatting in a sunlit courtyard in the afternoon, with the boy’s slender hand resting gently on her head, warm and comforting.

“Open the Time Passage, Sylvia.”

The dark-haired boy’s voice was still calm and deep, as if everything was under control.

“Trust me. I’ll come back.”

“…Okay.”

Sylvia nodded softly, no longer hesitating.

Just like back then—no matter what Xia Ya said, she’d always believed him without question.

Her slender, pale fingers tapped gently in the air.

In the next moment, the illusory River of Time spread out around the Argent Witch.

What began as a small stream expanded continuously—becoming a roaring ocean of temporal torrents.

And at the headwaters of that crashing river—

Xia Ya saw a radiant Golden Sword, and the indifferent silhouette holding it.

A pale golden brilliance formed a kingdom around her, cutting off the flow of history.

A thought stirred within Xia Ya.

Then, ancient shadows, like the rings of a tree, began to radiate from around him, synchronizing with the illusionary River of Time.

His body began to gradually fade, slowly moving upstream.

This was an entirely different experience from any of his past Historical Echo entries.

Every step forward met with immense resistance—even with Sylvia’s help, progress was painfully slow.

“What is it, Little Ai?”

Xia Ya’s figure shimmered faintly as he looked to the blonde girl on the other side of the room.

From the start, Ailora had said nothing—

She had simply been watching him with her ice-blue eyes, cold and quiet like snow.

“You upset because I’m going to bring back Her Highness the Imperial Princess?”

“Even if it’s just a blink of an eye for you two… for me, it might feel like years passing on the other side.”

Xia Ya smiled as he opened his arms toward her.

“Before we part—won’t my girlfriend and fiancée give me a little parting benefit?”

Ailora blinked once and stepped up to him.

But she didn’t kiss him or give him a hug like he’d expected.

She simply extended her pinky finger.

Then, gently hooked it with his.

Xia Ya was momentarily stunned.

This gesture… he knew well.

It came from his memories as a Transmigrator.

But the last time Little Ai had made this gesture with him was eight years ago, in that snow-covered day of the Northern Lands.

“You’re lying.”

Ailora spoke in a tiny voice—so quiet only the two of them could hear it—right next to Xia Ya’s ear.

Xia Ya was taken aback.

“When you’re truly confident… you never say things like ‘Trust me.’”

“Only when you’re lying do you keep repeating ‘Ready perfectly’ and ‘Trust me’—because you don’t want me or Miss Sylvia to worry.”

“I know… you’ve already prepared yourself for the possibility of not coming back.”

Their pinkies linked together, carrying a chill that felt almost icy.

Ailora gazed into Xia Ya’s eyes with her ocean-blue irises.

“So this… is a new vow.”

“On this journey, we will never abandon one another, never betray one another—through life and death, wealth or poverty.”

“And the duration is no longer ‘don’t change for a hundred years,’ nor a thousand, nor ten thousand…”

“It’s forever.”

Xia Ya hesitated, just about to speak—

But in the next instant, the River of Time conjured by Sylvia’s fingers surged violently—

as if it had broken past the Holy Sword’s barrier.

Xia Ya’s form disintegrated rapidly, flung upstream through history.

Toward a nation once called Aisgania.

Toward the turn of the Old and New Eras.

Not for some shallow reward—

But solely because of his own will.

And so Xia Ya arrived… at the end of the Golden Kingdom.

A final act, filled with thorns.

...

Sacred Calendar, Year One.

Aisgania — City of a Thousand Years.

It was a cold and desolate ancient city, veiled under the eternal curtain of night.

It stood not upon the earth, but among the stars—nestled within the sea of constellations.

Below, on the land of Aisgania, the Knights of the Round Table, having purged Futigon and the Abyssal Beasts, now led their soldiers in patrols across the entire territory.

They carried out the Knight King’s orders with fervor, swearing to chase down every last enemy and cleanse all non-humans from the land.

But for one place—this city high above the heavens—no one approached.

Not knights, not lords, not nobles, not even the Church of Dawn.

That was the Knight King’s will.

And so, despite sharing the same world, this dead and dark city, shrouded in eternal night, seemed utterly apart from the vibrant, war-torn realm below.

There was no starlight. No sunlight.

Only, now and then, a silvery moon would cast its glow, painting the ancient city in a colder, paler light.

Countless silver coffins were stacked within this ancient capital—

yet no sign of life could be found among them.

Deep within the city, there was a silent garden.

Moonlight shone cold and bright, illuminating the only living being within.

A girl in a black dress slowly raised her head.

As if sensing something—

in her shadowed, night-shrouded eyes, a trace of surprise appeared.

This long-dead city—

for the first time in ages, welcomed a visitor who was not her.