"I Became a Witch, but Now Everyone's in Love with Me!"

Chapter 100: A Historic Moment, Always Full of Surprises

Jiang Cha knew exactly why Carol had come. As long as she answered honestly, Carol would simply let her go—no further punishment. After all, it wasn’t a big deal.
But Violet’s identity was a top-secret matter. So secret that, apart from Mephisto, a third-year tutor, and the dean, only a handful of people truly knew. Even Jiang Cha had never been told directly—she had only guessed.
Yes, top secret often meant many people knew but no one dared to speak. Violet’s existence as an undead witch was too conspicuous to hide entirely.

And Carol? Jiang Cha guessed the mentor likely had suspicions of her own. She wanted Jiang Cha to provide evidence, even if indirectly. The girl’s naive behavior had inadvertently supplied the answer. It was the same as when Mephisto commissioned Jiang Cha.
Without tangible proof, even the witches’ mortal enemies would not directly raid the Academy Island—the densest hub of witches in the base camp—just to capture the offspring of a suspected high-ranking witch. Any intelligent creature would think twice. Even Mephisto and Jiang Cha couldn’t be sure if Violet was a decoy.
Truth and falsehood intertwined. As long as it remained unconfirmed, Violet was safe. That was the wisdom of the most ancient sages.

But this wasn’t Jiang Cha’s concern.
Regardless of Violet’s identity, she liked the little witch deeply. It didn’t matter who she was or what her origins were. She had always been the same—whether it was the echo of a forgotten past or the freedom of awakening, it didn’t matter.
During her three days of confinement, Jiang Cha had analyzed part of the Mage Tower master’s legacy and gained a great deal.

"Man-made gods."
"The essence of the master’s experiments is to merge the strictly materialistic school of arcane mathematics with the entirely idealistic path of faith in gods..."
Jiang Cha sighed softly, unsure if it was regret or sorrow. She didn’t skip to the conclusions, instead reading the long, ongoing research reports.
Yes, protracted is an understatement. The night elves are immortal, with lifespans averaging five thousand years in the multiverse. The Mage Tower master was at the sage level, and the research had spanned a staggering twenty-three thousand four hundred years.

A sage had pursued a single line of research for over twenty millennia—more than ten times the entire history of the witch race. The by-products alone were enough to benefit Jiang Cha for her entire life, even though the primary research had ultimately failed.
Jiang Cha also understood why the master hadn’t recognized her and her companions as famous witches of the multiverse: the sage hailed from a Gregorian calendar dimension 1.3 billion years ago. Converted to solar system time, the inheritance she received originated 8.2 billion years ago.
Eighty-two billion.

Her response to this 8.2-billion-year-old inheritance, spanning the endless multiverse and fragment zones, was simple:
"Hello~ Huizi."
The girl with black hair and red eyes hung from the ceiling, the ropes tight around her body. In the dark cell, she smiled warmly at the first intelligent god in history.

A historic moment. Strange from any angle, yet not uncommon in witch history.
For example, the current number-one sage had been promoted to great sage while squatting on the toilet in the middle of an experiment. When the School of Creation was founded, its creator had been imprisoned—just like Jiang Cha.
Why so many strange circumstances? Jiang Cha didn’t care. A boss this big could set the standard.

The newly born Huizi could not yet be called an artificial god. It was extremely weak, barely able to resist even a kitten’s paw. Strictly speaking, it was an artificial elf sustained by Jiang Cha’s magic.
Its combat power was low, and potential modest—but, like early computers that were huge, slow, and weak, Huizi could eventually evolve into supercomputers, artificial intelligence, or even mechanical life.
Huizi No. 1’s growth depended entirely on Jiang Cha’s development—and the witches who would practice the School of Wisdom in the future. Its true potential, whether it could become a genuine “artificial god,” remained unknown.

The light-blue orb of Huizi, no larger than a balloon and with a tiny tail, seemed dazed after hearing Jiang Cha’s voice. Three seconds later, it circled her, instinctively responding.
It didn’t yet understand language—but Jiang Cha could see the future of wisdom magic in it.
Wisdom magic, as Jiang Cha developed it, relied on the principles of the mystical school, # Nоvеlight # and required constructing temporary artificial gods to cast spells properly.

In practice, this mode had a major drawback: the caster had to maintain the spell constantly. It consumed the witch’s thinking circuits—the more wisdom magic used, the greater the load.
For example, Jiang Cha was pushing [Mind Overlap] to the limit. Out of 500 thought circuits, eight were consumed just by the magic itself. In future, using multiple wisdom magics together could take up a tenth or more of her resources.
Orthodox mystical magic solved this by borrowing divine power from pre-existing gods. Wisdom magic had no such gods; the caster bore the burden themselves.
The throne was empty.

It could be replaced by external objects.
Huizi was a small beginning—but also a historic moment.