The Witch Remains the Most Astute

[Simulation concluded, compiling highlights]

[Calculating simulation evaluation...]

[Generating simulation rewards...]

The real world.

Xu Xi opened his eyes.

The courtyard remained frozen in the same temporal stasis as before the simulation began—utterly silent, motionless.

The surging energies of cultivation, magic, and martial arts flowed within him, soothing the post-simulation fatigue.

"Moli, did you notice anything?" Xu Xi asked the four girls before him.

Before the fifth simulation, he had entrusted Xu Moli and the others to lock down the courtyard’s temporal possibilities, hoping to uncover the truth behind the simulator.

Now was the time to assess their findings.

Yet something felt off.

The atmosphere was unnervingly strange.

Xu Moli furrowed her brows, Krisha sniffed the air, Wu Yingxue lowered her head in thought, and Ailei seemed to be searching for something.

Before the simulation, they had all been observing its activation together.

But now, each was preoccupied with their own task.

"Master," the most perceptive of them, the witch Krisha, spoke first. "There’s... another peculiar scent on you."

Though emotionally reserved, Krisha’s senses were terrifyingly sharp.

---

The World of Heruka

Blazing white flames erupted from the scorching sun, swelling until they obscured a quarter of the sky.

A colossal entity descended from beyond the heavens, crashing into an ancient, verdant forest.

Birds shrieked in panic.

Trees toppled in rows.

The vast world was left with only the hum of the floating Wizard Tower’s machinery.

Servia Clawphire was obedient—painfully so.

She followed every command Xu Xi had given with flawless precision.

She protected herself.

She shielded the panicked masses.

Like an unyielding machine, she maintained the tower and purged threats in its vicinity.

But it hurt.

Her heart ached unbearably.

When there was nothing left to do, Servia retreated alone to the deepest chamber atop the tower.

Lights off.

Windows shuttered.

Just as she had long ago, she curled into a trembling ball in the cold, dark corner.

"Great Wizard... I can’t..."

"Without you... I’m nothing..."

Tears streamed down her deathly pale cheeks, soaking them in sorrow.

Her grief echoed through the suffocating darkness, feeding her fear and despair.

The Hero could not face that abyss alone.

Could not endure the crushing certainty that Xu Xi was gone—forever.

So she pressed her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, and activated the enchanted tome he had left her.

A simple luminescence spell.

A faint glow kindled with a trickle of soul energy.

It was the light Xu Xi had left for her.

Dim.

But warm.

A lifeline for Servia, drowning in grief.

"You promised to return..."

"You said it yourself..."

Her voice broke.

Then faded entirely.

Only the sound of falling tears remained.

And when even those ran dry, only shuddering whimpers.

Outside, golden sunlight bathed the world in warmth—yet none of it reached her.

None of it touched her frozen, shattered heart.

She loathed her weakness.

Hated her cowardice.

But Servia rejected this version of herself, clinging instead to the dim radiance of the tome.

He wasn’t coming back.

Never again.

The light that had guided her, embraced her, accepted every flawed part of her—

Gone.

No more voice.

No more presence.

No more fragments of him in the life she’d known.

The ordinary days she’d taken for granted were now eternally hollow.

A gaping void where he should have been.

"......"

Time passed.

Servia wept until she had no tears left.

Until even the enchanted tome, overused, flickered out.

"The Great Wizard..."

"He believed in me. I can’t... disappoint him."

Staggering upright like a broken marionette, she dragged herself forward.

Her trembling fingers found the door handle.

Eyes vacant.

Expression shattered.

Her heart was in ruins, but she couldn’t collapse here.

Not when someone had trusted her.

Believed she could be more.

And so, Servia would become the Hero worthy of that light.

Click—

The door swung open.

A flood of gold spilled into the room, gilding her skin in fractured brilliance.

Life thrived in this reborn world—

The very dream she’d once longed for.

But her hollow eyes reflected no joy.

"Tower Spirit..." Her voice was sandpaper.

Before the enemy’s arrival, Xu Xi had granted her control of the tower’s core.

She hadn’t wanted it then.

Didn’t want to be its sole keeper.

But now, Servia would obey.

Because it was his final order.

Thud.

Thud.

Step by unsteady step, she reached the tower’s heart.

The spirit manifested as a shadowy raven, alighting before her.

And then—

A voice.

Pre-recorded.

Gentle as memory.

Xu Xi’s words unfolded like a map—explaining the Infinite Netherworld, the Immortals, breakthroughs, potions, soulcraft.

Every path she might need.

And at the end, a pause.

A quiet, aching apology:

"Servia... I’m sorry."

Drip.

Drip.

Tears fell anew.

The world basked in dawn.

The Hero wept in the dark.

"You always... always do this..."

"I was the burden... I should be the one begging forgiveness..."

"Great Wizard..."

"I... refuse... your apology."

Silence filled the chamber.

But Servia’s grief was a storm.

It clogged her lungs.

Sapped her strength.

Left her crumpled and broken.

The one who had pulled her from darkness, who had led her into light—

Even in death, he had paved her way forward.

His kindness was a blade.

And Servia wanted to let it carve her apart.

But she couldn’t.

The Hero he’d believed in was meant to stand in the sun.

To smile.

And so—

Servia would step into the light.