Chapter 311: The End Goal

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“Initial Form: Warmth Like Dew.”

Leah gripped the metal staff Will had gifted her—unlike the wooden ones most witches favored—and aimed it at the “liver” of the dungeon monster before her, a colossal block of ice known as the Frostmare.

Then, she cast the spell she knew best—one she had mastered because of Will.

As she finished, she glanced up at her mother, Liss, who hovered high above on her broom, observing like a strict examiner.

Liss didn’t smile in approval. Nor did she call for a halt, as she usually did. Instead, she simply nodded.

Keep going.

Leah’s palms were slick with sweat. Now, she regretted the metal staff—its smooth surface grew slippery when damp.

And…

It might smudge the intricate witch-hat pattern Will had designed for her.

She stole another glance at her mother.

It had been years since she’d felt this nervous—like a student under scrutiny, not the poised professor she’d become.

Even after all this time…

Even after days of working under Liss again, relishing her mother’s rare warmth…

Even though they now looked almost the same age…

A mother was still a mother.

And being watched by her always made Leah’s hands shake.

But she couldn’t falter.

“Next—”

By now, she’d repaid all the debt from her reckless shopping spree.

This “test” was different.

Liss wanted to measure her growth—to see if she was ready.

The standard?

Mastery of the ancient magics needed to craft the “Primordial Candle.”

“Brilliance in Silence—”

For most witches, the ultimate pursuit was the pinnacle of ancient fire magic—the Primordial Candle.

A spell. A relic. The first stable flame mankind ever kindled.

None had ever recreated it. The texts were fragmented, their languages lost.

But the journey—the fire magic developed in its pursuit—was what mattered.

After tempering the Frostmare’s liver with Warmth Like Dew, Leah now had to detonate it.

An explosion, precise and overwhelming, to extract its essence.

A single misstep, and the liver would shatter uselessly.

“Hah… hah…”

Panting, the crimson at the tips of her hair flared briefly before receding.

Brilliance in Silence absorbed all sound within its range—then unleashed it in a cataclysmic burst.

Light. Force. A brilliant, concussive blast.

And yet—

Half the Frostmare’s liver remained frozen.

Unscathed.

A failure.

Again.

This wasn’t her first attempt. For days, she’d repeated this—because Liss had promised:

“Succeed, and you may leave to find Will.”

Will—who was marrying that runaway princess, Treya!

The wedding might already be over by now!

She was frantic.

Desperate enough to crash the ceremony herself.

But Liss remained unhurried, making her try again and again.

She hadn’t stated the criteria, but Leah assumed the goal was to vaporize the entire liver.

“I—I’ll try again! I just need more power—”

“Enough.”

Liss’s voice cut through.

She descended gracefully, landing beside Leah, her eyes lingering on the metal staff.

Unlike wooden staves, it gleamed under the light—a rarity among witches.

“Tell me, Leah—why are you so fixated on him?”

“I love him. I want him to look only at me. To possess him. That’s all.”

No hesitation.

“Oh~?”

A single syllable, dripping with implication.

“And once you find him, what then?”

“…Huh?”

“Will you inject him with more of your witch’s blood? Chain him in another dungeon?” Liss tilted her head. “From where I stand—a century older than you—forcing love hasn’t worked yet. Why repeat it?”

Leah froze.

She…

She’d been so consumed by the urge to see Will again, to drown in his deep blue eyes…

But now that Liss pointed it out—

Her fingers brushed her lips.

That moment.

When he had kissed her.

Even the memory set her blood aflame, pounding in her ears.

But then—

“You may go. Wherever you wish.”

Liss’s voice snapped her back.

“…What?”

Just as Leah faltered, her mother set her free.

“Though… I must say, you’ve progressed faster than I expected.” A faint smirk. “You’re nearly at the ‘end goal’ I envisioned.”

“Why?”

“—Think on it.”