Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 136: The Witch's Fury

“How adorable.”

Feeling the boy's longing in her embrace, Yveste's heartbeat quickened slightly.

Not only from the perspective of a loyal dog but even by human male standards, he was exceptional and robust.

With such thoughts, Yveste adjusted her posture now and then to match his movements, all while gently cupping his face with her hand.

The boy's burning breaths and erratic heartbeat were undeniable signs of his fragile state.

In this moment, his ocean-blue eyes brimmed with a dazed haze, and he muttered something incoherently under his breath.

“Your Highness… Your Highness…”

“I’m here.”

As though offering reassurance, Yveste brushed aside the locks on his forehead, her response earnest and tender, matching each of his yearning calls.

“My lady witch…”

At these barely audible words, her expression instantly darkened. Her delicate, bare feet clamped down forcefully, causing the boy to shudder.

It was hard to tell whether it was from fright or delight, but the atmosphere was abruptly shattered.

Trying to provoke me?

Feeling a surge of irritation, Yveste gritted her teeth, remaining silent for a long while.

But after a brief pause, a realization seemed to dawn upon her. The anger in her eyes gradually dissipated, replaced by a meaningful smile.

“Forget it.”

“There’s still plenty of time.”

After all, for now, it’s me who holds him in my arms.

As this thought crossed her mind, Yveste gazed into Lynn’s unfocused blue eyes with a peculiar expression.

In those oceanic eyes, she saw her own reflection—but it wasn’t just her reflection.

It felt like gazing into a mirror, as if she wanted to imprint her current expression deeply into her memory.

At this moment, I, his master, am joyfully playing with my adorable puppy. In the future, many of his “firsts” will undoubtedly belong to me.

And you? You’ll be nothing more than a stray, chained and imprisoned in some ridiculous place.

You must be furious right now, mustn’t you?

But what can you do about it?

This is the punishment for daring to lay a hand on my puppy.

If it’s your future self, you’ll surely understand my feelings at this moment, won’t you?

Staring into the reflection of herself in the boy’s eyes, Yveste’s lips curled into a faintly mocking smile, exuding a captivating and enchanting allure.

This was the Ruined Lands, the final resting place of all things, where time and space ceased to exist.

The barren earth stretched infinitely, devoid of vitality, as if life had never been conceived here. Even the concept of death seemed to have vanished.

Void was the anthem of this world.

Nothing had meaning here, and no entity held tangible form. It was as though everything had returned to the primordial ignorance of creation’s dawn.

At the edge of sight, a grand temple carved as if by a giant's hand loomed, piercing the heavens.

It was impossible to fathom what kind of mighty and terrifying being could inhabit the center of this temple.

Or perhaps, judging by the chains of order and the sealing power of gods and demons that sporadically emerged, this temple itself was a prison created by an unfathomable group of powerful entities to confine an even more terrifying presence.

The temple stood like a nail driven into the ground, rooted here since tens of thousands of years ago, unmoving.

It seemed as though the significance it represented—and the entity sealed within—was no more than a myth passed down by the gods.

Perhaps even tens of thousands of years into the future, the temple would still stand quietly on this desolate land.

Or perhaps one day, the sword of Damocles hanging in the sky would fall as foretold, bringing annihilation to the dreadful being sealed within.

But such events were far too distant and wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

Or at least, that’s how it should have been.

“BOOM——!!!”

Suddenly, a blazing crimson light erupted from within the temple, as if intent on engulfing it entirely. It was as if a second sun had appeared upon the land.

This surge of immense divine power immediately drew the attention of countless supreme beings.

They turned their gazes, expressions varied, filled with astonishment. No one had expected that in mere tens of thousands of years, this temple—prison to a terrifying witch—would emit such a fearsome response once more.

As they observed the red light that seemed to obliterate the surrounding space and the collapsing earth, the mighty beings that rushed to the scene exchanged puzzled glances.

Within their sights, the temple, under the overwhelming force of the crimson light, transformed into a bottomless black hole that devoured everything around it.

Even abstract concepts like laws and space were uprooted and annihilated.

Yet to their eyes, this act seemed rather… crude.

Rather than an attempt to break free from the seals of the Pantheon, it resembled the outburst of an extreme emotion.

Still…

After being sealed in such a place for so many years, what could possibly provoke such fury from this witch who had lived for tens of thousands of years?

The beings were perplexed.

“Should we notify the Divine Ancestor?”

“The Divine Ancestor Xiya is currently forging the Sword of Damocles and cannot be disturbed. Let’s notify Lady Shirina instead.”

“Wait… that power seems to have vanished?”

A massive dragon with a human face and black scales, its tattered wings draped with countless dried corpses, let out a low growl as it gazed at the Pantheon.

The temple, once engulfed in scorching red light and resembling a man-made black hole, had torn the surrounding land into a massive abyss spanning unknown tens of thousands of meters. Yet now, the destructive force had subsided.

Here and gone in an instant, as though nothing had ever happened.

What they had assumed to be a desperate counterattack—one fueled by millennia of the witch’s pent-up power—was, in hindsight, something else entirely.

“What is she scheming?”

At that moment, every powerful being observing this final resting place wore a solemn expression, each pondering the same question.

Inside the Pantheon.

“……”

The witch, dressed in a tattered black gown, sat silently. Her crimson aura, once flaring from within her, gradually receded.

Her breath came in quick gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Beneath her frayed, lotus-leaf sleeves, her slender fingers were tightly clenched into fists, as though suppressing an overwhelming emotion.

After a while, the witch slowly opened her eyes, their crimson glow betraying a mix of fury and humiliation.

Looking down at the chains of order wrapped around her body, she clenched her teeth.

So delicate… yet why can’t I break them?

Damn it.

Always one to exude a cold, indifferent demeanor, the witch now revealed a rare, raw side of herself.

If Lynn were to see her like this, he’d surely be struck by the vividness of her emotions.

After what seemed an eternity, she finally calmed herself, shaking off the chaotic storm within her heart.

But as she recalled those piercing blue eyes etched in her memory—and the smug, mocking expression of her reflected within them—an intense hatred surged once more.

The witch longed to drag her faithless follower to the Pantheon this very instant.

Unfortunately, it had been only a few days since her last summoning of him. The energy she had stored to pierce the barriers of space and time wasn’t sufficient yet.

After all, such feats weren’t so easily achieved.

For now, the witch could do nothing but face the mounting memories in her mind.

As she recalled the peculiar, sticky sensation at her feet, the boy’s strength, and his vigor, she bit her lip. But the image of Yveste’s face immediately surfaced in her thoughts, further fueling her irritation.

“……”

After a moment of silence, she took out a piece of yellowed parchment.

She had given Lynn one before, a tool for interdimensional communication between them. Yet, it had been used only a handful of times.

Now seemed like the perfect moment to employ it.

Come to think of it, this was the first time in her ten-thousand-year existence that she initiated contact with anyone.

Her “faithful” follower appeared to have grown lax, failing to dedicate himself fully to the trials she had devised.

She decided it was time to give him a little push.

“I” am a collective. The me of yesterday, today, and tomorrow are but subsets of this collective.

Time’s flow is the process of adding today’s me to yesterday’s and tomorrow’s me to today’s, until only yesterday and today remain, and tomorrow ceases to exist.

Now, here’s the question:

If humanity’s primal desires are merely survival and reproduction, what is the meaning of our existence? Where does our future lead?

Lynn lay sprawled in Yveste’s embrace, his eyes hollow as the musings of sages swirled through his mind.

Hours had passed since he’d entered Yveste’s chamber, and slowly, his rationality was returning as the flames of desire ebbed.

The realization of what he had done to this woman was unbearable.

He could scarcely accept it.

This can’t be real, can it?

Haha…

“How much longer are you planning to stay like that?”

Yveste’s cold voice snapped him back to reality.

She had regained her initial icy poise and dignity, looking down at Lynn with an expression that could only be described as “a mother catching her child hiding inappropriate books under the bed.”

Hearing his superior’s reprimand, Lynn jolted upright.

“Your Highness, I…”

“Sticky and filthy. Disgusting,” Yveste rolled her eyes and stretched out her arms. “My feet are dirty, and I don’t want to wear slippers. Carry me to the washroom.”

Seeing her effortless, practiced manner, Lynn was instantly reminded of the time he’d been imprisoned by her, when similar situations had unfolded.

With a resigned sigh, he lifted her into his arms.

The familiar scent of roses enveloped him, but Lynn kept his composure, calm as a saint.

I’m just her subordinate.

This is simply a mistake every man might make.

With that rationalization, he headed toward the washroom.

But after only a few steps, Yveste leaned in close, her soft whisper brushing against his ear.

“So, have you fallen for me this time? Even just a little?”

Lynn nearly stumbled at her words.

Seeing her cover her mouth to stifle a satisfied giggle, he took a deep breath and gently set her down in the bathtub.

“Care to join me?” Yveste reached out, tugging at him slightly.

Knowing her temperament, Lynn suspected her words were more teasing than genuine. He refused to believe otherwise.

Besides, he prided himself on his current saintlike clarity—he wouldn’t be swayed by her sweet talk.

“Your Highness, we’ll be arriving in Troy City tomorrow. It’s late; you should rest.”

Just then, Lynn felt the parchment in his pocket grow uncomfortably warm. Realizing it was likely the witch contacting him, he dared not delay and quickly fled Yveste’s room as if escaping.

“Hah, scumbag…”

Watching his unhesitating retreat after satisfying his needs, Yveste bit her lip, her long, alluring eyes narrowing slightly.

But… this makes it all the more fun.

“So, this time it was feet. What should we play with next?”

As a sly smile curved her lips, the sound of water splashing and thick steam filled the bathroom. The filth clinging to her fair legs and delicate feet gradually swirled away, disappearing down the drain along with the haze.