Chapter 129

“When did I become like this?”

A puppy is just a puppy, after all. So cute.

How can saying I don’t want to be a puppy anymore make me turn into a human?

Humans are so filthy and hateful; being a carefree puppy is way better.

All it takes is a cuddle and a kiss from my master to feel completely satisfied.

Hey, speaking of which, where’s my puppy?

That adorable little furball, where did it go?

Come back!

If it accidentally ran outside and got snatched up by those mean women, my master would get really mad!

What? You’re already someone else’s puppy?

No, no! Master’s really going to be mad!

At that moment, Ivyst felt a flood of jumbled thoughts and voices rush into her mind.

She had no idea what expression she had when she left Lynn’s room.

All she remembered was that after hearing his cold and heartless words, her head was buzzing, as if she was escaping reality, blocking out all information from the outside world.

When she came to her senses, she found herself sitting quietly by the window of the study with a dagger in hand.

Staring at the sharp blade she held, she fell silent.

All the images of what just happened flooded back into her mind.

That cute puppy, it turned out didn’t just belong to her.

And it was very likely that it had already become a toy for another woman long ago.

Realizing this, Ivyst’s slender wrist trembled slightly as she tried to grip the hilt tightly, but she couldn’t control the pain and fatigue coursing through her body.

There weren’t many situations that made her feel this powerless.

Aside from a few times dealing with sealed items in her deep slumber, there was only that time Lynn died right before her eyes.

And now, there was one more.

Moreover, this unprecedented feeling of powerlessness and disgust far surpassed any previous experience.

Even in past struggles, no matter how desperate, there was always a glimmer of hope.

But this time, Ivyst couldn’t find any chance of winning.

Her future self, the Sorceress of the End — Ivyst.

Just the thought of that cold, white-haired woman she saw in Lynn’s mental world, crossing through the river of time, filled her with intense hatred and jealousy.

That was her, but also more than just her.

She wielded power powerful enough to rival the gods.

She had a wealth of life experience, far more mature and reliable than Ivyst herself.

Her personality seemed to be more likable as well; at least her own puppy was completely smitten.

Of course, the most crucial point, and the one that filled Ivyst with despair, was that future her seemed to have healed the curse on her face.

The “evil” curse was the shadow that had haunted Ivyst since childhood.

It could be said that most of the reason she had fallen to such a state was due to this curse.

Even before Lynn arrived, the black mark on her face had been the scar buried deep in her heart, one she dared not touch, living in a mask like a rat that couldn’t see the light.

Pitiful and sad.

And now, future her had healed this curse, becoming so beautiful and noble.

In contrast, she felt like an ugly duckling hated by all, with no one but Lynn thinking she was beautiful.

No.

Perhaps even her own puppy’s earlier “so beautiful” wasn’t heartfelt.

Because looking back now, everything was full of doubt.

He might have recognized future her long before.

If so, who was the object of that “so beautiful”?

The answer was obvious. This was the last straw that broke the camel’s back for Ivyst.

Upon careful comparison, she realized she didn’t have even a single aspect that could measure up to future her.

Even more disheartening was the fact that she had no chance to surpass her.

Even if Ivyst wanted to change, each bit of progress she made only made her more like that future self.

This thought filled her with immense fear and despair.

To her, being a witch was the end, possessing everything she ever wanted.

But in the eyes of the witch, she was merely a painful past that was best left unmentioned, just a trivial moment in the river of time.

The gap was far too vast.

She couldn’t even seek revenge or kill her.

No.

Actually, she could do something.

!.

This was the one thing she could do, the only thing that the cheap woman made her capable of.

A slight glimmer appeared in Ivyst’s red, dim eyes.

Her breathing quickened as she looked down at the dagger in her hand.

If she killed herself here, that future b**ch would cease to exist.

Ivyst slowly raised the knife, but a hint of confusion flickered in her eyes.

But if she dies, what will happen to her puppy?

Without their master’s company, wouldn’t it just whine and cry in panic?

Plus, it was so cute; it might get taken home by some other woman.

If that’s the case, let’s just kill them both.

Even if they bury us, we should be buried together so it can stay by my side forever.

Never to part again.

The gentle moonlight flowed in from the window like a stream, casting a layer of silver light on the sharp dagger.

In a daze, Ivyst somehow saw in the mirrored reflection on the blade a disheveled, dark-eyed white-haired woman.

That face felt both familiar and foreign.

A bit haggard, a bit hopeless.

Is this me?

Ivyst instinctively turned to glance at the wall beside her.

There hung a painting of a dashing woman in military uniform, her bearing sharp and regal, her gaze fierce as a blade, embodying a noble and proud royal female.

Even with a mask on, she inspired awe.

No, that’s me.

The Third Princess of the Saint Roland Empire, Ivyst Roland Alexini.

Undoubtedly overlooked by everyone, yet destined to stand out in the royal selection, rising against the current to become the next Empress of this decaying empire, bringing hope and rebirth to the kingdom.

Staring at her dazzling self in the portrait, Ivyst’s hand involuntarily trembled, causing the sharp dagger to clatter to the floor.

She stared blankly at her pale hand.

Her once flawless and delicate skin was now marred by countless scars from her recent self-destruction, covered in nail marks.

These were the marks of obsession and madness.

Also the things her past self would never have done.

In the past, when faced with someone or something displeasing, killing was the solution.

When had she ever suppressed those feelings, drowning herself in self-destruction?

When did I start turning into this?

Ivyst stared at the dagger on the floor, seemingly seeking an answer for herself.