Pandora looked at Lilith, suddenly at a loss for words.

She felt Lilith was actually enjoying herself.

How could the Silent Witch—once cold as ice, keeping everyone at a distance—change like this? Was it moral decay or twisted humanity?

Pandora didn’t dwell on messy thoughts. Straightforward by nature, she simply found Lilith strangely altered, even a little foolish—like those scheming humans whose intellect couldn’t keep up with their ambitions.

She sensed Lilith’s quiet joy but couldn’t grasp its source.

Unable to understand, she just shook her head.

“I don’t need anyone dying heroically for me. Any unplanned sacrifice is unnecessary. By absolute rationality, your actions are foolish, Lilith.”

Scolded, Lilith only smiled brighter.

“Absolute rationality?” she asked. “How can that even exist, Pandora? If you were truly rational… why warn me?”

“You still hold value to humanity. They need you—they won’t target you. Only I’d die. And given our strained history… why warn me?”

“It’s illogical.”

But Lady Silent Witch had her own reasoning.

Expressionless, she explained:

“I didn’t come to warn you. I came to remind you…”

“I’m dying, Lilith.”

Her voice softened suddenly, like the thin ice on an early winter pond—destined to melt under the sun’s gentle warmth.

Lilith froze.

She frowned, closed her eyes, opened them again, and stared at the Silent Witch before her.

Her expression turned grave. “What happened? What’s wrong with your body?”

“I released Witch’s Night,” the Silent Witch said calmly. “You know it was my body. Without it, my soul will decay and fade.”

“But why—”

“Humanity no longer needs me. They have a better replacement—a Contained Artifact. No emotions. Purely mechanical. And they don’t need a dreaming Witch with feelings.”

She spoke unhurriedly, as if recounting a stranger’s tale, tone flat throughout.

Yet she wasn’t an object. Not like the Artifact meant to replace her.

A trace of emotion finally surfaced—relief, confusion, a hint of peace.

“It’s over,” she said, gazing at Lilith. “At the next full moon, Witch’s Night will seek a new master. Not necessarily humanity’s Artifact. It could be you. An anomaly. Any sentient being with independent will.”

“Contenders from every land and race will descend upon this city. Chaos will follow.”

“Given our history… humanity may ask for your help.”

“That’s all.”

Lady Silent Witch closed the conversation.

Lilith fell silent, processing the weight, then murmured, eyes lowered:

“What is this… revenge?”

She lifted her gaze. “And you? What happens to you without Witch’s Night?”

“My body is gone. I’ll erode, dissolve back into magic… and return to the Great Source.”

Scholars say all magic flows from that abstract origin. Deceased witches return there—memories erased, reborn anew.

Witches never truly die… but what’s rebirth without memory, if not another kind of death?

Lilith watched Pandora. Her face remained placid, as if she’d long accepted this end.

*Then why come to me?* Lilith wondered.

Perhaps it was instinct—like a drowning person clinging desperately, dragging even their rescuer under.

That’s why lifeguards grab from behind.

To Lilith, the Silent Witch stood there claiming peace… yet her eyes silently pleaded:

*Save me.*

*Save… me.*

Maybe it was just Lilith’s imagination. Only the drinker knows the water’s temperature.

So—trust reason? Or follow instinct?

As she hesitated, Lady Silent Witch turned to leave.

Darkness rippled faintly. The white-gowned witch stepped halfway in, paused, glanced back at Lilith, and offered a faint, regretful smile.

“You’re right, Silent One,” her gaze dimmed. “No one would die for me… So sometimes, I envy you.”

“This is likely our last meeting.”

“Farewell, Lilith.”

Before the words faded, Pandora vanished into the ripple—gone from Lilith’s dream, as quietly as she’d come.

…

Jiang Jiu cared about Lilith’s conversation with the Silent Witch as much as she cared about kangaroos in Uruguay.

She only cared about herself.

The bar thrived as usual. Witch’s Night’s upheaval hadn’t touched ordinary lives. Patrons worked, clocked out, and came to unwind.

Jiang Jiu moved gracefully between bar and booths in her maid uniform, serving drinks with polite elegance.

Regulars—some daily visitors—noticed someone missing.

“Is the other maid on leave? And the black-dressed girl in the corner booth… the owner? Why isn’t she here?”

Jiang Jiu smiled. “An Ning won’t be returning. The owner’s away today. But tonight? Just enjoy your drinks.”

They dropped it.

Except Jiang Xiaobai.

A loyal customer since the Wall Rat incident, she now sidled up to the bar, leaned in with twinkling eyes, and whispered like a thieving mouse:

“Sister Jiu… are you and the owner… together?”

Jiang Jiu chuckled, pouring water. “Why would you think that?”

“Because she *always* watches you! Especially when girls ask for your number—haven’t you seen how *glaring* she gets?”

“Huh? Really?”

“YES!”

“Maybe I was too busy,” the maid smiled lightly. “If she likes me, fine. But no—we’re not together.”

“I see…”

The girl feigned disappointment, but her eyes sparkled behind her cup. *Good. Not together.*

She’d never compete with *that* owner—stunning, mysterious, witch-like: silken hair, enchanting features.

Zero confidence.

Relieved, Jiang Xiaobai set down her glass. “Sister Jiu! A Moscow Mule, please!”

The maid looked up, surprised. “Not Witch’s Night today?”

“Wanted to try something new!” she grinned. “I’ve been studying mixology… and anyway—anything *you* make must be delicious!”

Not a question. A cheerful, rising affirmation.

Jiang Jiu’s eyes crinkled. “Sweet talker. Finish this Godfather first, then I’ll make your Mule.”

“Okay!”

*Chime.*

The doorbell rang.

Jiang Jiu turned—and locked eyes with An Ning stepping inside.

An Ning’s expression flickered, then stilled. Mask on, unrecognizable to regulars, she walked straight to the bar, sat beside Jiang Xiaobai, removed her mask, and fixed Jiang Jiu with a steady gaze.

“A bottle of Macallan 18. Two glasses.”

Jiang Jiu nodded faintly. “Right away… Though, why two? One’s enough for solo drinking, no?”

An Ning kept her head low. “I want you to drink with me. Isn’t it natural for the bartender to accompany guests?”

No reply. Jiang Jiu placed the bottle and two glasses on the bar.

…

Jiang Xiaobai sat frozen.

*Oh no.*

*Another rival?*