Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 81: I, Xia Ya, Love Saying No to the Self-Righteous

The glow of the Magitech Lamp cast its light over the simple book, illuminating the neatly inscribed words on its pages.

Xia Ya closed the book in silence, his gaze drifting toward the pure white ceiling.

Then, after a long pause—

“…Well, f*** me sideways.”

—

The black-gowned girl in front of him stiffened slightly at his remark.

But soon, she covered her mouth, letting out a light, bell-like chuckle.

“Oh my… dear guest, I personally don’t mind, but just so you know—swearing inside this establishment incurs a fine.”

—

“…Wasn’t cursing at you.”

“I was cursing a certain piece of absolute bulls***.”

“That damn thing screwed me over royally.”

—

Xia Ya’s thoughts were a tangled mess.

—

The plain book in his hands, its carefully recorded words, had connected all the dots in his mind.

Every clue. Every speculation.

Now, it all made sense.

If before, he could rationalize how he managed to bring Akahito, the Summoned Beast from the Historical Echo, back into reality—

If he could convince himself that the system’s "Historical Renown" title was just some glorified achievement badge, devoid of any true significance—

Then…

The evidence he gathered from the Shadow Council just now completely shattered those illusions.

—

The so-called "Historical Echo"—

Wasn’t some recorded illusion, or a parallel world recreation, or a mere fragment of the past brought to life.

No.

It was real.

A genuine piece of history.

Something that had actually happened in this very world.

—

Why did most cults uphold a mutual understanding, avoiding unnecessary conflicts, while the Ashen Order and the Twilight Order had a massive falling-out in Sacred Calendar Year 350?

Simple.

Because just four years before that, in Sacred Calendar Year 346—

Xia Ya himself had personally stomped the Twilight Evil God’s Half-Body back into the grave in Cangting Principality.

And along the way—

He shattered all the divine power and authority fragments stored inside that Half-Body.

At the very last moment, before its complete obliteration, the Twilight Half-Body had sensed the aura of the Ashen God’s power in Xia Ya’s "Amaterasu" attack.

It was then that the Twilight followers became convinced—

That Xia Ya had been "raised" by the Ashen Order all along, trained as a secret weapon specifically meant to ruin their god’s revival.

And so, war broke out.

—

Meanwhile, the Ashen Order’s cultists were probably just as baffled as he was.

Even if some of them had divination abilities, there was no way they could have foreseen that—

Five hundred years later, during a random riot, they’d lose a left finger bone from one of their Corrupted Artifacts…

…And that same bone would have already appeared five hundred years ago.

—

Xia Ya sucked in a sharp breath.

"Oh, f***. I really messed up big time, huh?"

—

Still, most of this wasn’t a big deal.

It wasn’t like he had interacted with too many people back in the Historical Echo.

Elder Norton? Already six feet under, with a tombstone covered in weeds.

The only real problem was Sylvia.

—

Even though he had acted out of good intentions, he had manipulated her emotions not once, but twice.

And in the end, to ensure her survival in the chaos of the Era of Cataclysm, he had even planted a deep-rooted hatred for himself within her memory.

And in this timeline—

She actually ascended to the Legendary Tier.

—

If she ever found him for revenge…

With his current power level, he wouldn’t even be able to put up a fight.

—

Xia Ya let out a long exhale, forcing himself to calm down.

—

"No… that’s unlikely. I’m just overthinking things."

—

First of all—

It had been five centuries since Sylvia last appeared in the Western Continent.

Even for a Legendary’s lifespan, that was an insanely long time.

She could have died.

She could have gotten lost in a dimensional rift, like many other vanished Legends, never to return.

—

Second—

Even if she was still alive, what were a few short years of childhood memories in comparison to five hundred years of experience?

A person’s perspective changes over time.

Even ordinary mortals forget their teenage romances once they reach middle age.

Would a Legendary-tier powerhouse, who had witnessed centuries of change, really hold onto a mere childhood grudge?

Most likely not.

At this level, her divinity probably outweighed her humanity.

For someone like her, life and death were things she had witnessed thousands of times over—hardly anything that would stir her emotions anymore.

Perhaps, to her, those youthful memories were nothing more than a trivial footnote in her long existence.

—

Thinking this way…

Maybe he could even use his connection to her past to squeeze out some benefits from White Chalk Tower.

—

Still—

The thought of the bright, innocent girl who had once clung to his side, calling him ‘Big Brother Xia Ya’ like a spoiled cat…

Now standing high above the clouds, an untouchable existence who looked down upon mortals as mere ants…

It left a strange, bittersweet feeling in his heart.

Human emotions were complicated.

—

Xia Ya shook off his melancholy, refocusing his thoughts.

Then—

He noticed something.

The black-gowned girl was staring at him intently—

Her shadowy, veiled eyes locked onto his side profile.

—

"Ahem—" Xia Ya cleared his throat.

“Well then, let’s spend the rest of my credits.”

“I want confirmation of Ceylan’s disaster and its connection to the ‘Crimson Rose’ Borgia Family.”

—

“Understood.”

The black-gowned girl gracefully extended her pale fingers into the air.

Another book materialized out of the shadows, appearing suddenly, as if it had been plucked from another dimension.

—

“The intelligence level has been updated recently.”

“This information was previously rated 'Saint’s Dusk Bell', but it has now been elevated to 'Angel of the Dead Omen' status.”

“Total price: 4,000 Rhine Gold Coins.”

—

Xia Ya took the book—

Then, his expression darkened.

—

“…Wait.”

“I don’t have enough credits left, do I?”

—

“Correct.”

“You are now 2,000 Rhine Gold Coins in debt to the Shadow Council.”

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“Our establishment does not accept credit tabs.”

—

“However…”

—

“For high-tier VIP clients like you, we certainly won’t resort to the simple and crude repayment methods we use for lesser customers.”

The black-gowned girl tilted her chin slightly, her shadowy eyes glimmering with a hidden smile.

—

“One week of work at the Shadow Council, and your debt will be cleared.”

“For this price, we could hire a Fifth-Ring Peak Beastmaster on the Black Market—what do you think?”

—

“…I admit that’s a tempting offer—”

“But.”

—

“I refuse.”

—

“I’d rather pay the damn money.”

—

Xia Ya sighed, pulling out the last of his gold bills from his nearly empty wallet.

After realizing that his gold bills weren’t enough, Xia Ya quickly pawned off a few extra Transcendent items he had set aside earlier, finally managing to pay off the 2,000 Rhine Gold Coins.

Once the payment was settled, he took Ailora by the hand, turned around, and left—swiftly exiting Dark Night Garden.

The black-gowned girl did not stop them.

She simply sat quietly at the dining table, her gaze fixed on Xia Ya’s retreating figure as he led Ailora away.

Within those shadow-veiled eyes, a complex emotion flickered—one that was difficult to decipher.

—

A long while later, the Shadow Council official in charge of the Dark Night Garden branch stepped into the room without a sound.

Standing respectfully beside her, he spoke in a cautious tone:

“Lady Augustina, the two of them have already left.”

“You… seem to be quite interested in them.”

This Fifth-Ring Peak official, his voice filled with reverence, was carefully gauging the thoughts of the high-ranking figure before him.

“Shall we dispatch someone to follow them in secret?”

—

“No need.”

A husky, languid voice echoed through the silent dining hall.

The shadow-woven figure stretched slightly, her long, graceful curves faintly outlined beneath the intricately layered black gown.

She sat there—like a Queen who ruled the night and commanded the unknown.

“Unless it’s a Titled-tier specialist in stealth, there’s no point.”

“Even if you were to go yourself, you’d just end up walking into one of his traps and getting killed.”

—

“…Understood, my lady.”

A bead of cold sweat slid down the official’s temple, and he dared not press the matter further.

Deep down, he found it utterly absurd.

Sending a Fifth-Ring Peak Beastmaster to track a young man who hadn’t even reached the Fourth Ring yet? That was the definition of overkill.

As for the idea that he might "get himself killed"…

That was outright nonsense.

Yes, he was no "Master Norton", but still—how could a mere youngster pose such a threat?

—

Of course, in front of this woman, whose every word could dictate his fate, he would never voice his doubts.

—

The official remained silent, waiting patiently.

Just as more sweat began to gather on his brow, he suddenly heard her voice again.

That same husky, unhurried tone—

A stark contrast to the silver-bell-like voice she had used before.

Yet, it carried undeniable authority.

—

“From this moment forward—

All information regarding him, and the girl beside him—”

“Is to be classified as ‘Prometheus Tier.’”

“No one among the Shadow Council’s high-ranking officials, except for myself, is permitted to access it.”

“And it is strictly forbidden to sell any intelligence about them to outsiders.”

—

A flash of shock crossed the official’s eyes.

For most of the Shadow Council’s clients, the highest intelligence tier was “Angel of the Dead Omen”—reserved for matters involving potential Demi-Gods.

But only those in the Council’s true leadership knew the truth.

There was actually one level beyond that.

—

Prometheus Tier

Or rather—“The Fire Thief.”

—

This was a classification personally created by Lady Augustina, the leader of the Shadow Council.

It was said that the name came from an ancient myth:

A god named Prometheus once stole the fire of the heavens and brought it to mankind.

The wrath of the gods was immense.

As punishment, they bound him to a steep cliff with unyielding chains, driving adamantine nails through his chest.

He was cursed never to sleep, his knees forever unable to bend, while a great eagle feasted upon his liver each day—only for it to regenerate each night.

—

This legend was one that Augustina herself had spoken of, though no one knew its true origins.

—

While the "Angel of the Dead Omen" tier represented Demi-Gods,

The meaning of “Prometheus” was something far more terrifying—

The Wrath of the Gods.

—

Even with his rank, the official had no idea how many reports in the Shadow Council’s archives were classified as Prometheus Tier.

But one thing was certain—

This was the first time he had ever witnessed such a designation being assigned in real-time.

And it was being done for two young individuals—

Neither of whom had even reached the Fourth Ring yet.

—

The official suppressed his astonishment and disbelief, keeping his expression composed.

He bowed deeply.

—

“Understood, my lady.”