Hate me, Miss Witch!

The chasm between their strengths, identities, circumstances, and status had doomed the relationship between Shiayar and Silvia, making it impossible to return to what it was five hundred years ago.

But at this moment, savoring the true feelings transmitted by her spiritual incarnation as a white cat, she clearly felt that familiar sensation returning.

When Shiayar caressed her, Silvia felt everything return to that cold winter night, to the tumultuous Grant Sea.

Then, too, a pair of hands with distinct knuckles had pulled her from the bone-chilling seawater, granting her a new life.

That moment then was just like this moment now.

Everything seemed to return to the very beginning. She was no longer the Gray-Silver Witch who had ascended the Throne, but merely the uncherished only daughter of a ducal family head, trailing after the young man daily, calling out, "Brother Shiayar."

Simple, unadorned, yet deeply satisfying.

Actually, I... I always just wanted to stay by your side, just like in the beginning.

The elegant golden handwriting paused.

It took Silvia a long while to calm the surging emotions in her heart before she continued reading the subsequent memories of that spiritual incarnation.

Then, a blush rapidly spread across her fair face.

The elegant handwriting resumed on the pages of the diary.

Brother Shiayar, you've really come this far? To even perceive the slightest thought fluctuations from my spiritual incarnation.

Fortunately, my incarnation was quick to flee.

Silvia couldn't help but cover her face.

If it had been just a moment slower, and Brother Shiayar had found out that she had, more than once, fantasized about binding him with a spell in a dark room, then personally taking the lead to forcefully claim his first time, and living an endlessly blissful, passionate life... The life of the White Tower Master would probably have ended right there.

However...

After a long while, new words finally appeared on the diary page.

This Brother Shiayar—

So dominant!

— Excerpt from the "Diary of the Cangyin Witch," page 705, Holy Calendar Year 903, Month of Summer Flowers, 30th day.

SNAP.

The ancient tome snapped shut.

The twilight's glow flickered.

When the light faded, the Eternal Slumber Plane returned to silence.

And the graceful figure upon the Throne had also vanished amidst sparkling spatial rifts.

「...」

"You're the first man who dares to openly flirt with another woman right in front of me," Isadella said calmly, arms crossed, as she watched Shiayar's interaction with the white cat.

"Of course." Shiayar nodded, watching the white cat flee into the twilight glow.

"I am Your Majesty's first man, and I will be your last."

"Your pick-up lines are as smooth as ever, just like when we first met." A smile touched Isadella's beautiful face.

She recalled the first time she had met Shiayar through magical communication. His confession had been just as direct then, especially the line, "White hair and red eyes are my ideal type," which Isadella still remembered vividly.

She had initially thought those words were part of Shiayar's facade, but now it seemed much of it stemmed from his true feelings.

Speaking of which, in the Main Material Plane, that had only been about half a year ago.

But in the perception of both Shiayar and Isadella, it already felt like a lifetime had passed.

"That was a sincere compliment."

"All of Your Majesty's traits, whether it's the silver hair, red eyes, or the 'Princess in military uniform' attribute, indeed fall right into my strike zone." Shiayar's eyes also showed a hint of nostalgia; for him, that was a memory from eleven years ago.

He reached out and pulled the Silver-haired Empress into his embrace. "Fortunately, back then, I could only fantasize about a man's ultimate dream within Classmate Dyres's dreamscapes."

"But now, I can fulfill my wishes in reality, freely indulging in beastly acts."

Isadella did not resist.

She merely tilted her head slightly, gazing up at the young man's profile.

"Miss Enola is an exception. As the last survivor of the Winter Flower Family, the Empire already owes her a debt. Besides, I know she would rather choose suicide than leave you."

"But you need to draw a clear line with those other women, especially Silvia."

"I can have Dyres bring her kin from the Abyss to weave dreams for you every night. A Succubus's dreamscape can satisfy all your carnal desires and fantasies, far more thrilling than anything achievable in reality."

Nearby, Dyres, the evident third wheel, thought: ?

"Let's not. Apart from Classmate Dyres, I'm not familiar with other Succubi," Shiayar shook his head.

"What if it triggers the 'Fatal Charm EX' passive again and leads them to ruin their lives? That wouldn't be good."

"Besides, I don't think being a philanderer and having a sense of responsibility are mutually exclusive."

"I made a promise to Silvia: when I return, she will be my fiancée. That's a man's word. It's both a responsibility and a duty."

"If that weren't the case, I would have simply watched Your Majesty perish along with the Imaginary Zone back in reality."

Isadella sighed. "I knew it."

However, after a moment's hesitation, she allowed Shiayar to hold her, not struggling or resisting.

"As a perfect sovereign, I shouldn't allow myself any weaknesses or vulnerabilities. After all, having weaknesses means making compromises, one after another."