Hate me, Miss Witch!

Her Cangyin eyes lowered gently.

"Thank goodness," the girl's voice trembled slightly.

Thank goodness, on that day, Brother Shiayar hadn't betrayed her.

Thank goodness, the five-hundred-year wait had finally borne fruit.

Thus, the girl named Silvia found her reason for existence anew.

Thus, her world once again found its light.

BOOM—

BOOM—

The rumbling sound grew louder.

It was coming from the very depths of Silvia's inner world.

The chalk-white Tower was collapsing.

One after another, enormous white bricks fell from high above, kicking up clouds of dust.

The entire Tower was disintegrating, bright sunlight streaming through the gaps left by the dislodged bricks, illuminating the lightless world within.

Silvia silently watched the Tower collapse amid the roar. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the White Tower, falling upon her silver-white hair like a faint golden robe.

Shiayar listened to Silvia's story, his heart heavy.

After confirming the truth of the Echo of History from the Dark Shadow Council, Shiayar had, in fact, fantasized many times about his reunion with Silvia.

Perhaps she had long forgotten the Brother Shiayar from five hundred years ago.

Or, as a superior, she might casually nod upon seeing him, an acquaintance from her youth.

Or perhaps just a faint smile at a chance meeting...

Yet he had never imagined it would be like this.

She was meant to reign supreme, the White Tower Master admired by tens of thousands.

Applause, flowers, power, and glory—Silvia could have embraced everything Humans in this world pursued.

Yet she had merely buried herself in a tower of white bricks, guarding those now-blurred memories and the promise of reunion, spending day after day, year after year, in this lightless world.

Shiayar subconsciously reached out to touch Silvia's Cangyin hair, just as he had often done in the Echo of History.

The Gray-Silver Witch's hair was soft and smooth, carrying a faint scent of lavender.

Silvia showed no hint of resistance.

It was as if she weren't the Throne-level powerhouse capable of slaying a Mythical Rank Pet Beast with a single magic word, but still the young girl in the ducal manor who used to listen to Shiayar tell her stories.

BOOM—

BOOM—

The last white brick shattered, and the massive Tower, resembling a tomb, was no more.

Only a chaotic expanse of ruins remained, illuminated by the clear sunlight.

"Now, Brother Shiayar, you should answer my second question," her voice, pleasant as wind chimes, rang out again.

The tremor in her voice was gone, replaced by a faint expectation.

"What place do I hold in your heart?"

"A sister? A passerby you happened to save... Or..."

"None of those," Shiayar spoke, interrupting Silvia.

He gazed directly into Silvia's pure silver eyes, unflinching, and said, word by word,

"I like you."

"And not in the way a brother likes a sister, but in the way a man likes a woman."

As he uttered these words, Shiayar also examined his own heart.

Initially, what he had felt for Silvia was mostly pity and sympathy.

Sympathy for her plight, pity for everything she was about to lose.

Then, as days turned into weeks in the Echo of History, that sympathy and pity had slowly transformed into fondness and a sense of kinship.

But undeniably, deep in his heart, a certain fondness and tender sentiment for Silvia did exist.

This sentiment might have stemmed from the guilt over that stab wound he'd inflicted on that night amidst the sea of fragrant telosma in the Morningstar Hills; or perhaps it was born from the heartache over Silvia's unwavering vigil for five hundred years.

Or perhaps it came from even earlier, before he himself had realized...

Shiayar's frank words caused Silvia to lower her gaze.

"Brother Shiayar, you truly are greedy... To have Miss Enola and still say such things to another woman without batting an eye."

"There's no helping it." Shiayar leaned back on the steps, gazing at the sunlight drenching the ruins. "I suppose I'm just that kind of insatiable person."

"But... hearing you say that actually makes me very happy," Silvia's final murmur was a whisper, unheard by anyone.

"So, how do I compare to Miss Enola in your heart?"

And there it was, deadly question number two.

She might as well just ask me who I'd save first if she and Ennie fell into a lake.

Shiayar felt a bit numb.

He didn't answer, but Silvia effortlessly perceived the outpouring of his emotions within her inner world.

And thus, she knew the answer.

Silvia silently perceived the intense, ardent emotions Shiayar exuded—not for her, but for another girl.

She sensed their shared history from childhood, their unwavering devotion through the Ceylon Disaster, their constant companionship day and night, through life and death.

After a long moment, Silvia finally sighed.

"You're so fortunate, Miss Enola." Her voice carried a hint of envy, but not much resentment.

This was only natural.

Compared to the brief time she had spent with Shiayar, the other girl had experienced so much more with him.