Passing the Throne

With the help of the book anomalies, the sealing progress surged forward once again.

It broke through 70% in an instant, then climbed to 75%, 80%, and 85%, only slowing once it reached 90%.

The jump from 67% to 90% had taken just over twenty minutes, but going from 90% to 95% took nearly an hour.

The little wings of the book anomalies no longer had the strength to flap. One after another, they descended to the ground.

They, too, had exhausted all their strength.

The book anomalies were incredibly powerful, but not all of their abilities could be applied to constructing the seal, and much of their strength was lost in the process.

At last, when the progress bar stalled again, it stopped at 97%.

It was now nearly five in the morning.

Juzi closed her eyes. The enormous eye above her head gazed out over the city.

She looked at the phantoms filling the streets, at the fifteen sealers who were exhausted to the point of near shock, and at the book anomalies lying limp on the ground.

Then she opened her eyes again, having made some kind of decision.

“Persimmon, Peeling Paint, go gather all the witches nearby who are still able to move.”

Once the two of them had gone to summon the witches, Juzi called out into the air, “Shopkeeper, are you nearby?”

Chen Miemie flew over from not far away and revealed himself. “What do you want?”

“You’re already a friend of our witches. I need you to serve as a witness.”

Chen Miemie nodded without asking any further questions and stood to one side.

Soon, more than a hundred witches had gathered on the rooftop.

This was the first time Chen Miemie had ever seen so many witches together.

Once everyone had arrived, they remained very quiet. The witches already had a premonition of what was about to happen.

Juzi slowly rose from her chair.

She went straight to the point.

“We’re out of time. Today, with so many witches gathered here, and with the Exalted Shopkeeper serving as witness, I hereby announce that I will pass on my seat as the First Seat of the Tea Party. It will be handed down to a new leader.”

There was no discussion, no attempt to dissuade her, and no commotion from the crowd. They remained completely silent.

Juzi looked toward the two witches closest to her.

“First Words and Peeling Paint, among all the witches who were originally human, the two of you have the greatest reputation, the most accomplishments, and the most supporters. The successor to this seat will be chosen between you. Now, you will each make your own bid for it.”

Peeling Paint stepped forward first. “Lady Orange, give the seat to First Words. She’s more suited to it than I am.”

First Words—Persimmon—hurriedly spoke up. “Peeling Paint, you should know that I only have one or two years left to live. If I take the seat today, I’ll have to find someone else to inherit it in just a few days. There could be countless complications along the way. You should take it directly.”

Peeling Paint’s gaze was razor-sharp.

“Persimmon, I’ve never been one to yield. Even without your saying anything, I would have fought for it today.

“I’ve always thought that you were too soft-hearted and somewhat naïve. In this cruel age, you wouldn’t be able to lead the human-born witches very far.

“But today, seeing your determination and the results you achieved by actively running around and communicating with everyone, I’ve realized that the power known as ‘story’ within you is something that surpasses mere combat strength.

“Combat power always has a limit, but your ability to move people has none.

“We were all born human. Human lives are short, but precisely because they are short, we can shine with the brightest light in the briefest span of time. You can accomplish so much in your one or two remaining years. I believe in you.

“Lady Orange, I withdraw from the competition.”

Lady Orange stared deeply at Peeling Paint. “Are you certain?”

“Certain.”

Juzi then looked at Persimmon. “And you?”

Persimmon no longer tried to refuse. “Even if I only have one or two years left, I’ll work myself to the bone and do my best.”

Juzi stepped down from the high chair, took Persimmon’s hand, and raised it high.

“I hereby announce that, from this moment onward, First Words—Qiu Shizi—will officially succeed to the Tea Party’s Seventh Seat.”

In addition to the seat, Juzi also handed Persimmon the broom that had stood beside her chair.

“This broom has followed me for many years. Its power is astonishing. I’m giving it to you as well today. I hope you’ll put it to good use.”

The scene remained perfectly silent.

All the witches bent at the waist toward Persimmon and performed the unique salute of their kind.

Unexpectedly, the broom leaped into the air.

“I don’t want to follow her! Juzi, if you dare to die, I’ll be free! When that happens, I’ll cause trouble everywhere, every single day!”

Juzi swiftly subdued the broom with one hand.

“Behave yourself. You don’t like sweeping, yet you’re still so picky. Don’t you love listening to stories? Persimmon has plenty of stories.”

Chen Miemie hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening onstage. He quietly moved beside a witch and asked in a low voice, “Lady Orange clearly passed on her First Seat. How did it become the Seventh Seat when it reached Persimmon?”

Seeing that the person asking was the “Exalted One” whom Lady Orange had mentioned, the witch answered him.

“According to the rules of the witches, aside from Lady Orange, the first-generation First Seat, that seat will be returned to headquarters afterward. From then on, the witch presiding over the witches’ capital, the Tea Party, will inherit the First Seat from generation to generation. That is why Persimmon inherited the currently vacant Seventh Seat.”

“Isn’t that a loss? It went from First to Seventh.”

“The seven seats of the Tea Party are not ranked. The true difference in authority lies in the number of cities each seat is responsible for. Since Persimmon will still be responsible for all human cities, nothing has really changed,” the witch explained.

That might have been true, but Chen Miemie still felt that it was a raw deal.

He muttered under his breath, “Hmph. How could there be no difference? Who wouldn’t want to be called ‘First’? If it really made no difference, why bother taking it back in the first place?”

After handing over her seat, Juzi returned to the heart of the seal—the chair at its center.

“All right. The succession is complete. It’s time for me to carry out my final task.”

Everyone knew what Juzi was about to do.

She was going to fight with her life.

Several witches took a few steps forward, only to stop. In the end, none of them could bring themselves to say anything.

Only Peeling Paint remained practical. Instead of trying to dissuade Juzi, she went to Persimmon.

“Lady First Words, Lady Orange is preparing to stake her life. But this won’t cost only her life—it will also cost the lives of the other nine high-ranking witches. If all of them truly perish, our strength may not be enough to defend this city. What happens if the humans seize it tomorrow?”

Persimmon took a deep breath.

“This is a city shared by witches and humans.”

Peeling Paint was silent for several seconds.

“I understand.”

Regardless of how the witches discussed the matter, Juzi had already begun unleashing all her power.

“The city accounts for 10%, the phantoms 57%, and the book anomalies 30%. I, Great Sage Orange, will handle the final 3%. Orange Core: Detonation!”

At her soft cry, the entire city transformed by Juzi—the Grand Library—began to contract. Countless orange fibers shrank inward, and when they had contracted to their limit, they formed sixteen orange seeds.

The sixteen orange seeds exploded at the sixteen sealing points.

When the tiny seeds burst apart, what sprayed in all directions was not destructive energy, but countless streams of orange-red juice.

The juice showered down over the earth, drenching the fifteen sealers as well.

At the same time, the seal seemed to absorb a massive supply of nourishment, and its progress began to skyrocket.

98%, 99%, 99%, 99%......100%!

[Juzi] spewed orange juice from her mouth and burst into laughter. “We did it!”

There was no joy on the witches’ faces. They knew [Juzi] well, and they knew that the orange juice she was spitting out was her own blood.

[Juzi] had used her own blood to replenish the sealing points throughout the entire city.

The moment she finished shouting “We did it,” Juzi collapsed backward.

Persimmon immediately caught her from behind. “Quick! Healing potions! Bring out every bottle you have!”

Hundreds of witches took out their treasured potions.

Persimmon and Peeling Paint didn’t even bother checking what they were. They poured one bottle after another into [Juzi]’s mouth.

“Hang in there, [Juzi]. Your constitution is special. You can make it.”

After being force-fed more than twenty bottles of high-grade potions, [Juzi] opened her eyes.

“All right, stop. We’ve used up all the high-grade ones. Don’t give me the low-grade potions—they won’t do anything.

“I know my own abilities better than anyone. Don’t make me suffer through those shoddy potions before I go. How have I taught you all this time? Every single one of you makes them taste absolutely awful.

“Persimmon, I’m entrusting the human witches to you.

“It’s a shame I couldn’t solve the problem of our limited lifespans. That burden will still fall to you. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself—just do your best.

“Lastly, if you ever encounter a crisis you truly can’t handle, you know who to seek out.”

Persimmon’s eyes grew moist, but every second counted. Each word Juzi spoke before her death was important; there was no time to waste crying.

“Don’t worry. If I ever reach a desperate situation, I’ll ask the Third Seat for help.”

[Juzi] slowly shook her head. “Just asking for help isn’t enough. You can’t trouble someone else every single day. If you ever hit a rough patch, you can put the Grand Library under her name. She doesn’t bother with its affairs anyway.”

“All right. I understand.”

[Juzi] smiled, then slowly closed her eyes.

Just as the witches were enveloped in a solemn silence, Chen Miemie’s voice rang out:

“Have you all given up on treatment? I happen to have a potion here. Want to give it a try? I’ll only charge you the cost—eighteen years. I’m not making any profit off you.”