Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 77: Don’t… Leave Me Alone.

Consciousness drifted like a flickering bubble, rising and falling in a sea of nothingness.

And then—

The bubble burst.

Xia Ya felt himself submerged in warm water, gentle currents flowing past him, seeping into every part of his body.

The next moment—

He opened his eyes.

The sharp scent of medicinal potions filled the air.

He found himself inside a spacious bathtub, the tub overflowing with a vibrant green liquid, filling the entire bathroom with a dense aura of vitality.

On the floor, scattered nearby, lay numerous magitech spell scrolls, their surfaces inscribed with arcane runes—

But now, each of them had been ripped open.

The glowing magitech symbols had dulled, their magic and spirit drained away—leaving behind nothing more than ordinary text.

Xia Ya recognized these items immediately.

Healing potions and scrolls were among the most expensive transcendental items, often costing more than several thousand Rhine Gold Coins each.

After all, in a life-or-death moment, they could be the difference between survival and death.

Since acquiring a Spatial Pocket, Xia Ya had always kept a stockpile—

But during the Historical Echo, he had used up everything to keep Sylvia alive.

"How extravagant…"

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"I could’ve just rested for a few days and recovered naturally—this probably cost another few thousand, huh?"

His gaze drifted to a small lavender-colored potion bottle—

A rare elixir that could restore mental energy and even heal soul injuries.

It was worth several times more than ordinary potions.

Xia Ya tentatively moved his arms and legs—

Surprisingly, he felt better than expected.

The lingering weakness that had seeped into his soul had completely disappeared.

The aftereffects of using "Bloodburn" at Perfect Proficiency should have lasted for an entire day—

Which meant—

I’ve been unconscious for over a day?

He lifted his head, looking for a clock to check the time—

And that was when he felt something soft brushing against his arm.

And heard the faintest sound of breathing.

A golden-haired girl sat beside the bathtub on a small stool, resting her elbows on her knees.

Strands of her silken blonde hair cascaded down the edge of the bathtub—

A few locks had fallen beside Xia Ya’s hand.

Her delicate face, framed by pale golden strands, was calm and serene, her long lashes gently trembling in her sleep.

She looked peaceful.

But the moment Xia Ya stirred, her eyelashes quivered slightly—

And then, she opened her eyes—

Revealing two breathtakingly clear, azure-blue irises.

The two of them stared at each other in silence.

In the end—

Xia Ya was the first to look away.

He shifted his gaze and broke the silence.

"Morning, Ailora."

"…Or wait, maybe it’s good evening?"

Xia Ya braced himself against the edge of the marble bathtub, standing up as water splashed around him.

He was, of course, fully aware that he was completely naked after rising from the bath—

But he wasn’t even remotely bothered.

After all, this was the wife he had raised since childhood.

Sooner or later, he was going to eat her up anyway.

Besides, after living together for so long, they had already seen everything there was to see.

And more importantly—

It was obvious that Ailora was the one who had brought him into the bathtub in the first place.

The golden-haired girl turned her face expressionlessly to the side and handed him a towel and clean clothes.

"Thanks."

Xia Ya took the towel, wiping off the residual potion before changing into the clothes Ailora had prepared.

As he dressed, he casually asked—

"By the way, Ailora—how long was I out?"

"Three days and three nights."

Her voice was as calm and cold as ever—

But there was something beneath it, something suppressed.

"When I came home, I couldn’t find you anywhere."

"I couldn’t even sense your presence."

"I searched everywhere—until I finally found you in the locked washroom."

"You were covered in ashes and dust. Your mana was nearly gone. Even your mental energy had almost faded beyond detection."

"Xia Ya—where did you go? Were you injured?"

Xia Ya toweled off his damp hair, hesitating for a moment.

He knew Ailora—

She was sharp, ruthless, and rarely spoke unnecessarily.

She always treated herself as a sword in Xia Ya’s hand, never questioning where he pointed her.

But when she did insist on knowing something—

Even ten pure-blooded dragons wouldn’t be able to pull her away from it.

And unfortunately—

Xia Ya was terrible at dealing with this type.

From ancient times, "the reckless" had always been the nemesis of the stubborn.

He sighed.

"I’d love to drop a 'just a scratch' joke right now, but I don’t think the timing is right."

After a pause, he finally spoke.

"I wasn’t injured. I just used an overdraw ability."

"You can think of it like… a life-draining buff."

"I was completely drained, but with some rest, I’ll be fine."

"See? I’m totally back to full strength now."

Ailora listened silently.

Her azure-blue eyes remained locked onto his face.

After spending years together, she had picked up on all of Xia Ya’s strange phrases and jokes—

She even used them herself from time to time.

Xia Ya patted his freshly changed clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles.

"As for where I went…"

"If I told you I traveled to another timeline from several hundred years ago—would you believe me?"

Ailora nodded. "I believe you."

Xia Ya blinked. "…Right. Forgot who I was talking to."

With Ailora’s personality—

Even if Xia Ya told her the world was ending tomorrow—

She’d probably just nod calmly and start packing their escape bags.

Xia Ya stood up, adjusting his collar before ruffling her hair.

Unlike Sylvia’s slightly wavy hair, Ailora’s golden locks were silky smooth.

Different textures—but both were equally nice to the touch.

"See? I’m totally fine."

"Look, I woke up all good as new."

"I haven’t eaten in three days, I’m starving."

"Let’s go—let’s grab a feast."

Reluctantly, Xia Ya let his hand slide from Ailora’s hair, gesturing for her to follow as he turned toward the door—

But the moment he moved—

Something held him back.

His clothes—caught in a tight grip.

"Don’t…"

Her calm, icy voice trembled.

"Don’t…"

"Leave me alone."