Hate me, Miss Witch!-Chapter 511 - 243: The Day We Bid Farewell to the Deities

Within the Black Tower, everything fell into a silent stillness.

In the wavering starlight, the silhouette of the young boy seemed dreamlike, almost unreal.

"Long time no see, Crimson."

He slightly turned his body, looking at the small Silver Spirit before him.

"It's been so long since we last met, and you've grown so strong."

"If Silver knew of your current achievements, it would probably be envious and jealous enough to tear itself to shreds."

Mii~

Not far away, the little Silver Spirit looked at the boy in front of it and let out a delighted cry. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Immediately, it transformed into a fiery red stream of light.

Breaking free from the control of the Golden Elf, it directly crashed into Shiayar's embrace.

Mii~ Mii~

In the familiar sound of Crimson's cries, there was now an involuntary tremble.

It felt like crying.

In five hundred years, from a mere Titled Rank, it had reached the point where it could hunt demigods.

Anyone who knew of Crimson's current achievements would marvel at the speed of its strength increase, far surpassing those ancient gods of the old era, with a racial aptitude far exceeding that of its mythical species.

However, few knew how much Crimson had sacrificed for such an awe-inspiring increase in strength.

The Silver Spirit, an elemental race, was only at the 4-Ring Sovereign Rank, which might have seemed powerful to a young Beastmaster, but in this age dotted with mythical species, it was nothing.

Not to mention, Crimson's talent, even among the Silver Spirits, was rather at the bottom.

If it weren't so, it would not have remained unchosen by other Beastmasters of the Brunestadt family, but followed Shiayar instead.

All it had, all it could rely on, was a heart stronger than any other Silver Spirit.

Every blessing in destiny had a price secretly marked long ago.

To keep up with Shiayar's pace, and not become a vase or burden in the Soul Pact Space... the astounding progress of Crimson over these five hundred years was traded for by repeatedly placing itself on the brink between life and death.

Crimson was a living being with the sensation of pain and the fear of death.

In those crises, teetering on the edge of death, as its body grew colder bit by bit, it suffered, it wanted cowardly to escape.

It regretted why it chose such a perilous path in the first place, instead of comfortably staying by Shiayar's side, sometimes being held as a pillow in his warm embrace, occasionally joining other Pet Beasts in the Soul Pact Space to enjoy hotpot and sing songs, laughing and joking about the stocks they supported.

But in the end, Crimson hid its fear of death and cowardice away in the depths of its heart...

Because Crimson knew, behind it, there was no longer a young Beastmaster who would cover for its every mistake, it could only rely on itself.

It had to learn to be meticulous and cautious, to be wary of everything external, even in the Supreme Black Tower, it dared not relax its tense nerves... because in the Last Years of the Divine Era, where mythical creatures were everywhere, any insignificant detail could become a tool for the Pantheon to deal with a Blasphemer disrespecting deities.

And at this moment, nestled in Shiayar's embrace, feeling that long-separated head pat...

For the first time in hundreds of years, Crimson finally let go of all defenses and all vigilance.

"Anyway, these years have been hard on you, Crimson."

"I am well aware, to keep up with my pace, to become my support, just how much hard work, blood, and sweat you have shed."

"Because, beside me, there was also a girl named Enola, just as silly as you."

The youth skillfully held the Silver Spirit, in its astral spirit body form, in his arms, gently stroking it.

Shiayar's embrace was warm, reminding Crimson of the midday sunshine of the Ancient Dukedom Azure Garden.

Just like long ago, when the youthful boy, to its juvenile self, said "Then you'll be called Crimson."

"Although it's far from compensating for your five hundred years of fatigue and depletion."

"At least for now, rest a bit, Crimson."

Feeling that faint warmth, for the first time in over five hundred years, Crimson fell into a slumber.

And sensing the little Silver Spirit in his arms fall asleep.

The black-haired, black-eyed boy, Ye Yi, slowly directed his gaze towards the Golden Elf beside him.

"Well, it's been a long time too."

"Hathaway."

He paused his words slightly, with a thoughtful expression.

"Oh right, Master, you still can't verify what my true identity is, whether I've been successfully possessed by that old thing, can you?"

"Let me think, how should I prove my identity..."

Shiayar's words were halted halfway by the Golden Elf.

"No need."

She quietly gazed at the boy before her.

"Don't underestimate me, Teacher Shaar."

"Even with the same appearance, the same memories."

"Whether you are truly you, I can tell at a glance."

Hathaway's crimson gold eyes lingered on Shiayar's face for a long time.

Five hundred years of separation, five hundred years of longing.

Hiding oneself in a lightless tower, with feelings fermenting day and night.

Nostalgia, yearning, hope, discontent, melancholy... countless complex emotions intertwined in Hathaway's eyes at that moment.