Well, to put it simply—the Dark Witch who stepped from the black hole truly looked the part of a witch, far more than Morningstar ever did.

A mature older-sister vibe, fair skin and a generous bosom, a flowing witch’s gown and pointed hat—not to mention the broom she rode and those pumpkin-headed ghosts trailing behind.

Morningstar, meanwhile, still hadn’t settled on her appearance. Outwardly, she hid her flawless figure beneath thick padded coats. Before subordinates, she wore a sleek black bodysuit—undeniably alluring, yet utterly lacking the essence of a true witch.

“Goddess! You’ve finally appeared! My revered Goddess!”

The necromancers embodied bootlicking perfection. The moment the Dark Witch emerged, they collapsed to their knees, weeping, bowing, and offering up the souls of ten thousand with trembling hands.

The soul orb soared into the air and settled gently into the Dark Witch’s palm.

“Mmm~ How thoughtful of you,” she murmured with a smile. But the instant the necromancers dared lift their eyes to her, a flicker of icy cold flashed in hers. Her slender fingers clenched tight.

*Pop.* Their heads burst like overinflated balloons—bodies and souls alike, erased in an instant.

“Don’t smile at us with faces that ugly. Disgusting. We don’t even want this anymore.”

With a disdainful flick, she tossed the soul orb away. Ten thousand souls? Peace of mind won.

“Should’ve skipped this. Waste of our time.” She stretched lazily—then froze, eyes locking onto a shadowed corner.

“I see you. I feel you… and the fear clinging to you. Come out~”

She drifted downward. The intruder was well-hidden, but not from her senses. What intrigued her? A faint echo of darkness—another child of the night?

“Please, Dark Witch… spare me,” Morningstar whispered, stepping from the dark. She bowed low, voice trembling with humble supplication.

“Oh~ What a lovely little thing,” the Dark Witch cooed. A true beauty lover, she was instantly charmed. Gliding closer on her broom, she studied Morningstar intently.

“Are you also a child of darkness? What brings you here?”

“I… I only wished to witness your beauty. The tales say you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“And do you believe them now?”

“The stories and songs capture less than a thousandth of your radiance. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Morningstar’s trembling flattery struck deep. Being praised by *anyone* is one thing—but by a stunning beauty? Entirely different.

“Do you think sweet words save lives?” The Dark Witch leaned in until their bodies nearly touched. Morningstar caught the faint, delicate scent of her perfume.

“If I must die… to fall by your beautiful hands… I’d have no regrets.”

“Hahaha~ Such a sweet mouth~” The Dark Witch grinned, pinching Morningstar’s cheek lightly. “Don’t worry, cutie. We won’t kill you~”

“R-Really, Dark Witch?”

“Mmm. We’ll turn your body into a doll for our bedside. Your soul stays inside—whispering soothing words to us daily. A reward, really. You’ll admire our beauty forever.”

Gentle tone. Chilling words. Truly a witch’s cruelty.

“Well said~ You’ve given me an idea.”

But the girl showed no fear. The scent of terror vanished. Calm eyes met the Dark Witch’s gaze.

A flicker of unease stirred in the witch’s chest.

Shadows slithered from her feet like living serpents, coiling toward Morningstar—only to vanish the moment they touched the abyssal darkness pooling beneath her.

“Who are you?”

“Do you wish to know my name?”

Morningstar’s form shifted. Jet-black hair bleached snow-white, shimmering under moonlight. Smiling eyes bled into crimson. Her padded coat writhed, reshaping itself…

“You are…”

“These are but fragments of my name: Master of Darkness, Destroyer of Worlds, Source of Evil, Root of Sin… I am Slaughter. Hatred. Fear. Plague. All evil converges in me.”

Absolute darkness swirled around her—a void so profound no light dared enter. Negative energies churned within: violence, madness… One touch would shatter any mortal mind.

“I have countless names, as death has countless forms. I am…”

She spread her arms. Time stilled. The universe held its breath.

Then—silence.

Head tilted back. Mouth open. Words stuck.

“Crap. What’s my actual name?!”

She’d never learned the witch’s true title—only ominous epithets. *Morningstar?* Too… mundane for this moment.

“Ahem. Anyway—I am the *true* Dark Witch. You’re just an imposter.”

Morningstar coughed awkwardly. Tried to cosplay a dramatic villain reveal. Epic fail.

“D-D-Dark…!”

The Dark Witch’s confidence shattered. Body trembling. Face contorted in shock.

And then—a warm trickle streamed down her legs.

Morningstar yanked back the black tentacles she’d summoned.

“Wait—you *peed* yourself?! Am I *that* scary?!”