Before the mirror, the purple-haired girl stared at her reflection clad in black, her eyes brimming with disgust.

Except for her princess-cut hairstyle, her attire and appearance mirrored the Pride Witch almost exactly.

As the heir, all her childhood interests and hobbies had been rewritten, even the blood in her veins replaced long ago.

She was the one closest to the Pride Witch—and the one who hated her most.

That selfish... arrogant woman...

Why, just because she had the talent to wield the 'Arrogance' Authority, did she make me her heir?

Heir... hah, a mere laughingstock to silence claims that the Pride Witch had no successor.

That woman probably forgot she even had an heir.

Damn it, what was she still hoping for?

Lost in thought, Imoxiu slammed her fist into the mirror.

Crack! Shattering cracks split her reflection apart.

The noise sent the maid rushing in from outside.

"Miss!"

"I'm fine. The mirror just... shattered on its own." Imoxiu's voice held a trace of barely concealed sobbing.

The maid guided her to a nearby chair. "The Witch Council meeting is soon. Rest here, Miss. I'll clean this up."

Imoxiu covered her face, leaning forward as the maid quietly swept the shards.

Only after the last piece was cleared did the maid kneel beside her, gently pulling Imoxiu's hands down.

She met Imoxiu's vulnerable, tear-filled eyes.

"If you want the Pride Witch's attention, Miss, self-pity won't work."

"Then what? Mother never cared for me. It'd be better if I'd never existed..."

"Actually... all of us have always had a tiny doubt: is the Pride Witch truly stronger than you?"

"You mean..." Imoxiu understood but dared not speak it.

After all, she was the Pride Witch—the strongest in history, a legendary god-slayer.

The maid leaned in, whispering, "Rebel against the Pride Witch."

Imoxiu's eyes widened. She leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Before she could think, applause echoed from the doorway.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Bravo. A fine plan. I've long disliked that Pride Witch too. Mind if I join?"

The voice sounded familiar, but Imoxiu couldn't place it.

The maid who urged her now wore pure panic.

She tried to flee, but her body froze.

Wisps of red mist had already coiled around her.

Through the doorway stepped a tall woman in a deep black gown—Cecile.

She smiled kindly at the maid. "I never expected a demon would dare tempt my daughter to rebel..."

With each step, Cecile's icy aura pressed down. The maid trembled, gasping for air, her terror mounting.

"'A tiny doubt about whether I'm stronger than my daughter?' Hah..."

Cecile pointed her index finger.

"Annihilate." The single word fell coldly.

The red mist vanished.

A magic circle flared at Cecile's fingertip, woven from metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. From it erupted blinding white light.

Without a cry, the maid dissolved into nothingness.

Beyond the shattered wall, starlight spilled in, revealing a glittering night sky.

The flash made Imoxiu shut her eyes. Cold sweat soaked her back, her face pale.

Only now did she grasp the true terror of the legendary Pride Witch—what had let her rule for a millennium.

Cecile needed no one. Her power was absolute.

If Imoxiu had rebelled, she'd have shared the maid's fate: erased without a trace.

That forbidden Light of Destiny spell would drain a tenth of her magic after five long chants. Yet Mother's face stayed calm, as if casting a trivial spell.

She even controlled the blast perfectly. Imoxiu, standing so close, wasn't harmed a bit.

Indeed, Mother was terrifying.

After the spell faded, Imoxiu dropped to her knees with a thud.

Admitting fault early might lessen her punishment. Being locked up for reflection would be awful.

"Mother, I—"

"My fault. I failed to spot the demon disguised as your maid." Cecile took the blame before Imoxiu could confess.

Harsh scolding would only fuel rebellion. Gentleness was needed now.

Imoxiu looked up in shock. Such words shouldn't come from the Pride Witch.

Worse, Cecile didn't scold her—she lifted Imoxiu into a hug.

Hugged?

She's hugging me?!

Mother hugged me!

Imoxiu's face flushed crimson—excitement, confusion, a hint of tears welling.

Cecile saw it all. She understood why story-Imoxiu had rebelled so fiercely against the Pride Witch yet never joined the heroes.

Bewitched by a demon. The original body's arrogance would never have helped her—just let her suffer.

No wonder Imoxiu died without realizing the truth.

Cecile smiled warmly. "From today, stop calling me Mother. Just say 'Mom'."

"Is that okay?" Imoxiu looked up, cautiously hopeful.

"Yes." Cecile nodded firmly.

"That's Helena's special name for Mom!" A red-dressed girl burst from the mist.

Tugging Cecile's sleeve, eyes wide and pleading, she cried, "Mom, Helena wants a hug too!"

"Alright, both of you." Cecile lifted Helena up too.

This Witch body was strong—holding two girls felt weightless.

Helena, at 140cm, was petite and light.

But Imoxiu stood nearly 170cm tall.

Cecile herself was only 180cm.

"Don't steal Mom from Helena!" Helena wrapped her arms around Cecile's head, possessive.

Imoxiu, newly accepted, shoved her back. "Mom is mine!"

What right did this alchemical doll have to compete for Mom?

Cecile, caught between them, didn't know whom to soothe.

Both were children. Scolding could spark rebellion.

They'd be her right hands later—a rift between them was dangerous.

No need for emperor's balance tactics here. Her power alone could crush all dissent.

Hmm... after a quick thought.

Cecile suggested, "Fight it out. Winner becomes the older sister. Loser, the younger."

She adored watching girls brawl.

After bonding through battle, they'd naturally grow close. An older sister dotes; a younger one fawns.