“Witches draw their power from emotions—simple ones like joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, or complex ones like jealousy, greed, and pain. The stronger the emotion, the greater the power.”
“So the existence of witches is subjective?”
“You could say that.”
“Then theoretically, if an emotion is strong enough… could it reshape the entire world?”
“It’s just theory. In reality, even the most powerful witches wouldn’t casually try to alter the world.”
“…You said *wouldn’t*, not *couldn’t*.”
“Mm. Because most witches are under control—some willingly, some by force. Regardless, none would risk influencing the whole world. No one knows what a world beyond control might become.”
“Like train passengers—even the richest wouldn’t randomly blow up the tracks?”
“Exactly.”
“I see… I think I get it now…”
Jiang Jiu nodded thoughtfully, then asked softly:
“What about love? Is it truly poison for witches, just as you once told me?”
Lady Witch fell silent for a moment, her expression unreadable.
“It *is* poison. But it also addicts witches… drives them mad. Every powerful witch is, without exception, love’s slave. Only love births the most intense emotions.”
“But doesn’t love cause loss of control? So Archwitches all teeter on the edge?”
“…They have ways to stabilize themselves.”
“And you?”
“?”
“Do *you* have a method too? You’re an Archwitch, right, Lilith? I can’t guess the source of your power as the Silent Witch… but it should… also tie to love, shouldn’t it?”
“…”
Lady Witch slightly narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to look up at Jiang Jiu behind the bar. “So? What are you trying to say?”
Jiang Jiu finally set down the Witch’s Night cocktail, slid it toward her with a coaster, and smiled.
“Nothing~ Just curious… whether you became an Archwitch *after* meeting me, Lilith.”
Lady Witch blinked, then frowned.
“Don’t overestimate yourself. I’ve always been an Archwitch.”
“So you loved others before? To become an Archwitch, one must have loved someone, right?”
“…I’m not like them.” Lady Witch’s voice stayed flat. “A witch’s love isn’t always for a person. It can be for things, phenomena… even concepts.”
She paused, as if realizing something. Didn’t touch the drink. Lifted her gaze, calm and steady on Jiang Jiu.
“…Are you jealous?”
Seizing the chance—just as Jiang Jiu often teased *her*—Lady Witch pressed on:
“I recall men often have strong possessiveness. Some even suffer mental purity complexes, unable to accept their girlfriend loving someone else… Jiang Jiu, do you still like me? Why else ask this?”
But Jiang Jiu’s reaction wasn’t what she expected.
Jiang Jiu merely glanced up, then smiled meaningfully.
“Nope. I’m just checking if I ended up being the cuckold. I’ve always found cuckolding others… energizing. Every time I think about it, I feel a surge of power—even the joy of a bountiful harvest.”
“?”
“And didn’t you say ‘*your* girlfriend’? So you’re admitting you liked me back then?”
“…”
Lady Witch suddenly felt foolish.
Like someone who only knew how to pounce on verbal slip-ups, never realizing the trap was laid *for* her.
Humans can’t outwit dogs. Likewise, she’d never win a word battle against Jiang Jiu—the sly woman.
So Lady Witch fell silent. True to her title, the Silent Witch. She simply sat by the bar, sipping her drink.
Jiang Jiu wouldn’t push further. She knew: provoke the “timid administrator” too much, and Lady Witch might snap and silence her. Not fun at all.
*Why call her “The Silent”?* Jiang Jiu mused, polishing a glass. *“Timid Administrator” fits way better.*
Outside, dusk settled. Students dismissed, office workers clocked out—the evening rush jammed the streets. Soon night would fall, and the young crowd would emerge.
Bars usually opened around seven. This one was no exception.
Six o’clock now. The ward repelling civilians still held. No ordinary person should’ve noticed the bar.
Then—a knock.
Faint. Irregular. Like a dying asthmatic’s last breath, life fading thread by thread.
Lady Witch didn’t react.
She’d already guessed who stood outside. The bar was her web; she, the spider at its center. Every tremor reached her.
Jiang Jiu had once wondered if Lady Witch watched her 24/7. She dismissed it. *Too chilling to ponder.*
Thankfully, Lady Witch wasn’t a yandere. Otherwise, Jiang Jiu would’ve been literally dismembered by now.
Jiang Jiu slipped from behind the bar. “I’ll get it,” she told Lady Witch. At the door, she emitted a trace of magic to verify identity—and opened it.
A thick metallic scent of blood hit her.
A girl in a tattered trench coat leaned on a longsword, barely standing. Wounds covered her body—burns, blast marks, dried black blood smearing her once-clean face.
Yet her eyes stayed clear. Her gaze, calm.
“I’m back…” Her voice flickered like a guttering candle. “Please… I’m counting on you.”
Anning whispered those words, then closed her eyes. The sword shrank back to short length. She collapsed forward.
Jiang Jiu caught her instinctively, cradling her gently. She lowered her eyes, gave a slight shake of her head—then, with magic-enhanced strength, lifted Anning and carried her toward the fireplace.
“I’ll take her to patch up,” she said to Lady Witch.
“Mm.”
Lady Witch replied without turning. Never glanced at them.
Jiang Jiu’s lips curved in a silent smile. She carried Anning away.
The vast bar fell quiet again—only Lady Witch remained… and the untouched Witch’s Night beside her.
Tranquility returned.
…
Anning’s injuries would’ve killed an ordinary person. But she wasn’t ordinary. She’d held on until seeing Jiang Jiu—the maid—then collapsed.
Stab wounds. Burns. Internal trauma. A hospital would’ve needed a full medical council.
But in the witch’s world, magic healed all.
Jiang Jiu used Anning—the noble young lady—as a test subject for the healing magic she’d just learned.
Under mystical light, wounds mended: bones fused, organs repaired, skin sealed. Injuries modern medicine would’ve deemed hopeless.
*People say magic’s obsolete—rifles, missiles, nukes rule now. But…*
*Looks like the times turned back.*
Magic had limits, of course. Weak magic or poor knowledge could worsen wounds—or spawn monsters. Jiang Jiu’s skill was still low; she’d only stabilized Anning to non-critical.
But it was enough.
Jiang Jiu sighed in relief, sat by the bed, and waved away the Enchanted Wand.
She’d never used such precise magic for so long. Frail as she was, exhaustion weighed heavy.
Yet watching Anning’s breathing steady, her furrowed brow smooth… Jiang Jiu felt rare satisfaction.
*Mm. Just like the joy of a bountiful harvest.*
She stood to step out—report to Lady Witch (though she’d likely not care).
*But honestly… I’ve always wanted to see her jealous face.*
Before she reached the door, a faint gasp and rustle came from behind.
Jiang Jiu turned. Anning was awake—eyes open, body too weak to speak.
Like time rewound to the day Jiang Jiu first brought her here.
Jiang Jiu sighed softly, helped her sit up gently, and offered warm water.
“I’ve treated your wounds. You’ll be fine. Rest two days and you’ll bounce back… No—*you’ll* probably walk tomorrow.”
She set the glass down, settled Anning back carefully.
“Need anything else? Just say it.”
Anning’s eyes flickered. Lips trembled. A whisper too faint to catch.
Jiang Jiu leaned close.
“…I came back… to drink with you.”
She whispered.
[To be continued]
