Chapter 13: Releasing the Caged Bird
God created His incarnations based on the Seven Virtues—praised by the world as the Seven Archangels.
But the rot of the human heart gave birth to mirror images opposite to the virtues. Fallen angels and evil monsters seized the authority of the original sins, opposing the Archangels from within Hell—despised by the world as the Seven Archdemons.
The Fourteen Paths mirrored and paralleled each other. Transcendents followed the guidance of their Paths, with angels and demons standing eternally at the end of fate’s threads.
Yet the mysterious Witch Path broke this iron rule.
Their dreams and murmurs revealed a shadowed future. Their undefined and unbound destinies drifted beyond the control of angels and demons—disruptors and destroyers of order.
Was that why witches were hated?
Funis held no definitive stance on such claims.
She didn’t particularly care how angelic believers or demonic followers viewed witches. The countless crimes committed by these women in their deranged states were enough for her to regard them with hostility.
“So that means, in the process of advancing from the Eighth to the Seventh Sequence, you briefly stepped onto the Lust Path, and then during your advancement from the Fourth to the Third Sequence, you stepped onto the Pride Path... Even witches themselves don’t know what their next advancement will result in. Miss Witch, is that what you mean?”
Deliberately avoiding the topic of faith, Funis focused her questions solely on the Transcendent traits of the Witch Path.
“That’s exactly right. You understand quickly,” Chescia said, lightly sipping her tea. “At different Sequences, one is bound and pulled by different Paths. Both the body and mind undergo repeated trials and torment—that is the witch’s advancement.”
“So that’s why you stopped at the Third Sequence…”
With a single prompt, Funis instantly understood why Chescia hadn’t advanced to the Second Sequence.
The Paths never altered only a Transcendent’s body and powers—their tendencies, thoughts, and personalities were also influenced and guided to varying degrees. The unpredictability of witch advancement meant they would suffer intensely from the massive dissonance of both physical and mental upheavals.
The higher the Sequence, the more transformations a witch had endured. Elder witches had broken bodies, fragile minds, and were vulnerable.
“I’m ready for advancement, Miss Witch.”
Yet even after understanding all this, Funis still pushed herself forward.
“Even after I told you so much about the dangers, you still press on... Is that bravery or foolishness?” The black-haired witch’s tone cooled slightly, her hand pausing on the teacup.
“This is the road I must take,” Funis murmured, her gaze downcast.
Though it sounded terrifying, she didn’t think the witch’s advancement was entirely negative.
Leaving aside the fact that ascending Sequences brought significant enhancements in constitution and ability, the random and uncertain advancement path of witches—unlike the linear progression of other Paths—meant that after multiple advancements, witches could gain vastly differing Transcendent traits. Their broad adaptability and boundless potential were a unique advantage.
Now Chescia was giving her a chance—a chance to advance from the Ninth to the Eighth Sequence.
Should she accept it?
Funis rejected her witch identity, but she no longer had the right to stubbornly cling to beliefs or principles.
As long as this sinful, blasphemous body remained in the world, her conscience and soul would continue to burn. She had to obliterate and annihilate her current self completely.
Funis had to kill Chescia.
For that, she would stop at nothing.
“The society’s girls mostly choose to remain at the Ninth or Eighth Sequence, since advancing further often leads to madness and irrationality. They value their current lives more than chasing power—and I respect their choice.”
Chescia stopped judging Funis’s “rash” decision and abruptly shifted the topic.
“So the society now lacks combat strength, and you need a fighter,” Funis said softly, raising her eyes.
She wasn’t truly a naive young girl. The soul of a reliable forty-year-old man easily heard the meaning hidden in Chescia’s words. She also knew full well that years of sharpening in the shadows was only to one day draw the blade.
Funis was that blade lurking in the dark.
“A ‘Refined Witch’ who won’t be lured or corrupted by the Whisperers—you’re a miracle. I hope you understand your own worth.” Chescia set down her porcelain cup and gently stroked the girl’s cheek.
“But you know what I’m thinking,” Funis softly held Chescia’s slender arm, tilting her head to rub against the warmth of the witch’s palm. “You know what I need.”
She smiled.
Graceful.
“It doesn’t matter what happens to them. I don’t care,” she whispered. “As long as I can kill you, that’s enough.”
Obsessive.
Temperamental.
Yet Funis didn’t think there was anything wrong with her.
She was a witch. That was normal. She had learned hatred from Chescia. She had learned to use any means necessary from Chescia. One day, she would return it all to Chescia.
“Uuuuh♡——!?”
Before she could even maintain that twisted, deranged smile for a second, a blush spread across her cheeks.
“D-Don’t touch the horns... M-Miss Witch, I’m sorry...” Misty violet eyes welled with tears, her voice soft and sobbing. “Eeek—! Uuh, please, please let go…”
Soft whimpers mixed with the cheerful, crisp chime of silver bells.
Chescia had only raised her hand a bit higher from Funis’s cheek and already made the girl, pretending to be cold and aloof, instantly show her true colors. Her fingers kneaded and played with the sparkling transparent horns beneath the chandelier, skilled and teasing.
“When you’re outside, remember to protect your horns. Don’t turn into a pushover just because someone grabs them,” Chescia said blandly.
“Outside? Protect? Eh?” Funis murmured, dazed. “Uuuh♡—!”
Chescia still hadn’t let go.
She continued kneading.
“Succubi are different. A stubbly forty-year-old man could just fight without thinking, but a succubus has to consider many things.”
“Uuu... I’ll protect them well... p-please, have mercy...” Funis’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Only then did Chescia release her tiny horns. “You’re right. I need a fighter. I need strength. So I hope your advancement succeeds. Guess what I want to send you out to do?”
“Mm?”
Limp and dazed, Funis lay against Chescia, unable to comprehend.
“The Eighth Sequence Witch Path potion is missing one last ingredient. The hideout’s storage is already empty,” the black-haired witch said, patting her smooth cheek. “I want you to collect it yourself. Any objections?”