Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva

As the embodiment of the will of the Mechanical Council, these Autonomous Units constantly roamed between the earth and sky, opening up sanctuaries for the once-native humans, while the Newborn Races were undoubtedly their greatest enemy as the opposing side.

There was no surrender in the battle, nor could there be any abandonment; these machines executing the original code were ruthless, not because the higher-up Mechanical Angels who set the programs were heartless, but because there's no room for compassion in reality anymore. In the era of the Fifth Epoch, there was no space for reconciliation between them, especially as the native humans were almost on the brink of extinction.

Fighting went on from night to day, from holding fast to retreating, from an initial sky full of butterfly wings to sparse, scattered feathers.

Under the dual siege of murderous machines and Wolf Blood Species, members of the Butterfly Species fell in countless battles. Once-covered corpse-strewn birch forests now bore the marks of wildfire, burning smoke swept with western winds, spreading towards distant skies.

In the night, Molila, dragging her broken wings, struggled to support herself, fleeing with Levende. Her once-beautiful wings were now reduced to a single shattered side, the other side having been ripped during an ambush by several Wolf Blood Species, even with patches of severely mangled flesh on her back.

In haste, Molila plummeted from midair, tumbling onto the ground, and Levende landed heavily as well. After a dizzy bout, he pulled himself together and stood with difficulty, looking at the motionless Molila in the distance, his heart filled with intense anxiety.

Sustaining the life of Molila as it was nearing its end, Levende lifted her up, his eyes welling with tears, calling her name, but this sister he once admired and yearned for was now bloodied and stained, no longer able to soar through the sky.

"Cough cough, I'm almost done for, go on your own." Weakly, Molila raised a hand to touch Levende.

"Leave, find somewhere secluded, and live out your life."

"No, I don't want you to die." Levende cried out, not yet at the age of maturity.

"No, don't be so naughty, you're already grown up, you can fly away on your own now." Molila's eyes were half open, half closed; she could barely see Levende in front of her.

A gentle glow radiated from Molila's body, then spread towards Levende, triggering his maturity transformation.

Seconds later, Levende slowly fell asleep, his body gradually enveloping within a cocoon of light threads.

In a few hours, he would truly mature and grow the enviable wings.

Watching the glowing cocoon gradually envelop Levende, Molila felt relieved, her hands crossed, wrapping around her shoulders, then her body slowly began to burn, transforming into a shower of light dust. These particles covered the earth, shrouding Levende's cocoon, concealing aura, then vanished into the night.

...

Three years later, the stronghold of the Butterfly-eyed Race's former ally, the Willow Spirit Species, was breached by the Wolf Blood Species. The leader of the Willow Spirit Species was impaled by a bloody fang, hanging in the wilderness by the great river, along the riverbank stretched three kilometers of impaled heads, perched upon by carrion-feeding vultures and black crows, this fierce act terrified the entire grassland.

Henceforth, the Cat Tail Species, Fox-tail Species, Elephant Body Species all submitted, and the Wolf Blood King Camp gradually established.

During the following twenty years, Levende constantly searched for surviving members of the Butterfly-eyed Race, moving from the north to the south of the grasslands, from east to west, often flying under the night sky, utilizing the inherent ability of the Butterfly Species for concealment to gather intelligence.

Compared to the genius Molila, Levende's talent was mediocre at best. He only managed to advance to Sequence 4 at the age of 32, thanks to Molila's teachings on systematic knowledge theory.

Over the subsequent eight years, he remained stuck within Sequence 4, partly because he was constantly hiding and dispersing his focus, and partly because he eventually found a reclusive branch of the Butterfly-eyed Race far away, although the number in this settlement was barely a hundred.

To help this small settlement avoid the sensitive scenting probes of the Wolf Blood Species and possible detection of their whereabouts, they situated the settlement atop lofty cliffs, only venturing out at night to engage in activities stealthily.

Though this ensured safety, it considerably slowed down many tasks, and maintaining sustenance within the settlement was no easy affair. He had to undertake the responsibility of finding food with several other members.

In this long-term cooperation and coexistence, he also eventually found his own love, and had a child.

Originally, this could've been a pleasant ending, to live a simple life as Molila had instructed in the end.

Yet life is always filled with numerous accidents and misfortunes, during one routine journey to procure food, his lover exposed her identity, along with the daughter who accompanied her, plunging them into crisis.

In order to protect the child, the mother could not fly away alone, leaving many opportunities for the opposing side.

The end result was the mother's death, and the daughter being captured and becoming a slave to the passing merchant.

Crushed by such a blow, he searched desperately for his daughter's whereabouts, until last month, finally gaining some information, learning of his daughter's situation within the King Camp.

Subsequently, a rescue initiated with companions, to avoid implicating others, he volunteered to stay behind as a rearguard, until he was pierced by a spear thrown by the Wolf Blood Species, plummeting from the sky.

Looking back on his life, his path was always in flight and evasion; maybe, saving his daughter was his sole obsession in the end.

Now, his wish has been fulfilled; regrettably, he can never see that child who hadn't grown up yet.

To speak of it, this child bore a light golden hair similar to Molila, which was what he cherished the most.