Chapter 46: When Happiness Begins, Sorrow Is Counting Down

Disaster struck.

There was no warning.

There were no signs.

Very abruptly, the sky, which had been clear and blue just a second ago, was instantly scorched by terrifying magic.

It was a scene from Hell; deep red meteors of fire appeared out of thin air, numerous in quantity, like a boundless sea of blood, dyeing the entire sky a despairing, low-hanging crimson.

"Sss— sss—"

The heavenly fire hissed.

What reached her ears and what met her eyes was the horrifying scene of a meteor shower falling from the high sky.

Buildings were constantly being blasted into ruins.

Countless people let out terrified cries for help in the face of death.

There was no time to think.

Before the witch could even process what was happening, her body acted on its own, like a moth to a flame, rushing toward the fireball approaching the courtyard.

She waved her wand.

She cast a spell.

"Water Protection!!!"

Everything was useless.

How could a weak moth shake a ferocious flame?

That Water Magic, cast with all her might and even using the wand's reserve mana, was easily shattered and crushed by the meteor.

Klisa failed.

She failed completely.

She could only watch helplessly as the meteor fell, and she could do nothing!

"Bang—" A massive, deafening roar resounded.

The fire falling from the sky brought destruction; the blast wave from the instant explosion unleashed countless impacts, and that courtyard, which held countless beautiful memories, collapsed and vanished in an instant.

Even Klisa herself was blown a great distance away by the blast wave.

She collided, tumbled, and finally stopped after hitting a brick wall.

It hurt, it hurt so much.

The witch fell to the ground, her body submerged in endless pain; every bone was wailing, and every muscle was tearing and bleeding.

That struggle, that torment, made the 16-year-old witch hurt so much she could barely breathe.

But.

But…

But, oh, but.

Compared to the pain inside her chest, where her heart was, compared to that heartbreak that tore through her reason, the pain in her body was nothing at all.

That was despair in the truest sense; just imagining it was enough to make her personality collapse and shatter!

"Mentor…"

In the ruins of the brick wall engulfed in flames, black smoke filled the air, and dust and mist sprayed about.

The young witch stumbled to her feet.

Her eyes were still hollow and devoid of spirit, and her face remained expressionless, but inexplicably, one could see a hint of anxiety and panic in them.

She grabbed her wand, which was no longer exquisite and even had a missing corner, and cast a spell again.

"Wind Riding Technique."

A voice that was calm yet trembling rang out, and the wind elements wrapped around Klisa once more, lifting her injured body with difficulty as she flew toward the direction of the courtyard explosion.

The previous blast wave had blown Klisa very far away.

Therefore, she had to make her way back.

This journey was not long, it was very, very short, but for the already injured Klisa, it felt like a path across a chasm that would never end.

Burning houses, collapsed ruins, and a large number of dead and injured commoners.

This was everything the witch saw.

It was tragic, it was terrifying.

She accelerated her flight toward the courtyard.

Suddenly, the witch's body felt intense pain, and the casting of the Wind Riding Technique was interrupted as a result.

She fell heavily from the air, rolling several times on the ground; not only were her clothes tattered, but her delicate skin was covered in abrasions.

Face, hands, legs… wherever there were wounds, it looked incomparably miserable.

Her blurred flesh was covered in grit and dust.

But the witch didn't care about that.

"Mentor, Mentor, Mentor…"

She muttered these words, her gaze pure, fixed only on the burning ruins in the distance, doing her utmost to get closer to that place.

Since she couldn't use magic, she would walk there.

If she couldn't even walk, she would crawl there.

She must.

She must see him again.

Holding onto this belief, Klisa stood up with difficulty again; she couldn't care about finding her lost wand and walked toward the courtyard with swaying steps.

Her mind was only concerned with the safety of Xu Xi.

He could not be injured, he could not die, there could not be any mishaps.

Even the slightest wound would not do.

The young girl absolutely would not allow such a thing to happen.

Even someone like her, a lowly breed, a discarded piece of trash, could survive in this world, so how could that person, who was as warm as the sun, die just like that?

Ah…

Ahhh…!

Just imagining such a thing made her heart contract violently, sending out a pain that made the young girl tremble.

"Faster, faster… still not fast enough…"

Klisa quickened her pace.

This sudden acceleration caused her injured body to lose balance, and she tumbled to the ground.

But it didn't matter; such things no longer mattered.

Ignoring the intense pain in her lower leg after the fall, ignoring the cheek scratched by small stones, ignoring her body that had begun to convulse unknowingly.

The witch continued to move forward.

If she fell, she would crawl up; if she fell again, she would crawl up again.

Finally, after rounding a large piece of collapsed building ruins, she saw the courtyard she wanted to reach.

There was no tranquility or beauty of the past.

There were no lush flowers or trees.

And even less, the only person she cared about in her heart.

What met her eyes were broken ruins burning with raging flames, holding no trace of familiar memories, and even the sturdiest meditation room inside had been blasted to pieces.

The flames surged and rushed, smoke billowed toward the high sky, radiating and spreading, and the whistling hot wind that blew toward her made her face feel dry.

It was deathly silent.

There was nothing left.

Yes, there was nothing left.

"Thump—"

It was as if all her strength had been drained in an instant.

Klisa suddenly stopped moving forward, her legs went limp and she knelt on the spot, staring blankly at the ruins in the distance, the rising flames reflecting on her face, scorching yet cold.

Her eyes were still indifferent.

Because she was a witch who did not understand joy or sorrow, a witch without emotions.

But, in that beautiful and fragile skin, in that lonely and cowering Soul, was there really no emotion at all?

Klisa did not know.

Because the only person who could give her an answer, the sun that could give the witch courage, could no longer be seen.

Ah, why was this…

The young witch remained kneeling in place, using those eyes, now even more hollow and devoid of light, to stare at the raging courtyard, wanting to find an answer within the recklessly surging sea of fire.

Why did her master die, while she, as a "personal item," was still alive?

Why couldn't she have been faster, worked harder to block that fireball?

Why couldn't the person who died have been her?

Why, in the end… was this…

Without a master, an item has no need to exist; without the sun, the witch has no so-called future; without that warm, watching gaze, Klisa could not take another step forward.

Her person, her Soul, all continued to exist only because of that person.

If that person ceased to exist, even if the witch survived, life would be completely meaningless.

"…"

The witch tremblingly reached out and covered her chest,

feeling that heavy pain that was about to burst forth.

So.

She, too.

Was capable of feeling sorrow.