Chapter 177

Through Victoria’s eyes, Maleficent’s expression dramatically changed. Just as it seemed like they were about to explode in anger, a flicker of thought crossed their face, and an expression of patience emerged.

But in the end, Maleficent couldn’t contain their rage. The burst of fury transformed into murderous intent and exploded outward.

“Who!”

Yeah… totally lost it.

Not sure where all that sanity went flying off to, but now’s not the time to ponder such mysteries.

“Who fears someone like you?!”

On the opposite end of the cane with the yellow gemstone embedded, its sharp edge pierced straight through my heart.

And then I was lifted off my seat.

I flashed a reassuring smile at Victoria, whose face was frozen in shock, telling her not to worry. Then something long blocked part of my vision—next thing I knew, Maleficent’s fingers had plunged into my face.

“I don’t know what you are, but so what? I am the Queen of Evil! I am Maleficent!”

The cane rose upward.

As Maleficent lifted the cane embedded in my chest, my legs floated up into the air.

Even though I’m small and lightweight for a human, it shouldn’t be this easy to lift me due to my center of gravity. Guess they’re stronger than expected.

“No matter what kind of monster you are, no one can defeat me! Now die!”

Maleficent applied force to the grip holding my face and snapped it clean off.

*Crack.*

My head spun around once, completely crushing my neck bones and cutting off blood flow from my torso to my brain.

An ordinary person would’ve died instantly—not just from pain, but because lack of oxygen would make survival nearly impossible.

For humans, anyway.

“Good job.”

With my dangling head, I tried speaking.

“Gurgle… gurgle…”

No sound came out. Oh right, to speak, I need to blow air from my lungs through my throat—but that’s blocked now. If I want to talk, I’ll have to put my head back on properly.

Wait…

If my neck breaks and falls off, putting it back together won’t be easy. So using my free hand (the one not gripping the tree branch), I grabbed my head and repositioned it upright.

“Good job. But this isn’t over yet, is it?”

Do your worst.

Maleficent knows I can regenerate even after having my head crushed. They thought I wouldn’t surprise them anymore—but why do they look at me with such disgust, as if I’m some horrifying insect?

“Of course! If you can survive this, let’s see if you can come back from ashes!”

*WHOOSH*

Black flames engulfed my body.

The faint greenish hue might be from the phosphorus burning within me.

While I intended to observe their final desperate attempt, even with regenerative abilities, there’s always the risk of being incinerated entirely and ejected elsewhere.

Before my whole body burned away, I stole the warmth from the witch’s light.

“Hmm…”

“Hehe… warm…”

It wasn’t mere warmth—it felt more like a soothing heat melting through me, though not scorching enough to burn. Still, it was undeniable evidence: witches are witches indeed!

Savoring this rare warmth, I reached out and grasped the light.

There was a reason I allowed myself to endure all this.

I didn’t plan to simply leave things here by stealing warmth.

Seeing the warmth stolen right before their eyes and mocking me earlier—once was enough.

I compressed reality, folding it inward while trapping the witch inside, reducing her to a lump of raw meat.

I’d done this before in another world.

Then I inserted the white branch into the center of the mass.

Without uttering a scream, Maleficent transformed instantly into a pitch-black crown surrounded by pristine thorns.

Not sure what determines these shapes.

In the second world, monsters became backs, people turned into pockets—I expected something similar, but instead, it formed into a crown.

Thinking that perhaps creating more will eventually reveal the criteria, I placed it atop my head.

Ouch…

This crown really hurts. The thorns slowly pierce into my scalp under its weight.

Though I might handle it fine, a regular person wearing this would probably lose all their hair.

Uncertain, but adding a cap over it seems to deactivate its function—it feels like it needs direct contact with skin. Such a tool summoning blood… truly terrifying.

Before the thorns dug too deep and drew blood, I swung my hand.

Instantly, the surrounding black thorn trees unraveled backward as if rewinding time, vanishing until only empty space remained where they first sprouted.

Once the black thorns disappeared, the harvesters began to awaken one by one.

Indeed, tools capable of undoing a witch’s actions.

Whether mimicking the last action performed or reversing everything done by the witch, either way, the black thorns were erased.

Before the white thorns could penetrate deeper into my skin, I removed the black crown.

“Bell…?”

Victoria cautiously called my name from behind. When I turned, she took a step back, clearly terrified. Is it really that scary?

“Yes, it’s Bell. This thing’s hard to take off.”

Maleficent’s temperamental nature must’ve transferred directly into this contraption; it took quite some effort to untangle my hair from the crown.

“Maleficent?”

“This.”

I finally managed to pull the crown free and held it up. A black crown adorned with white thorn-like structures, giving it the appearance of a spiked circlet.

However, it’s not real thorns—it has a cold metallic texture.

“Dead?”

“It’s hard to call this alive.”

Staring blankly at the object, Victoria suddenly collapsed onto the ground.

We’d been fighting here for quite a while now—losing consciousness makes sense.

I grabbed Victoria by the arms and legs, rolled her slightly across the floor, and hoisted her onto my shoulders firefighter-style.

Then I kicked the crown lying on the ground upward, securing it on top, and headed toward Victoria’s dormitory.

Carrying Victoria on my shoulder, I glanced around. People were emerging from their homes, looking dazed and confused.

Not everyone, though.

Some were clutching shredded chunks of flesh, covered in scratches, crying uncontrollably.

Others were cut apart when the thorns grew through wide roads.

There’s nothing I can do for those already dead.

Helplessly watching the warmth leave the deceased, I carried Victoria back.

The damage was extensive.

Every area I passed showed similar devastation—buildings bore marks of something piercing through them, and roads were stained with long streaks of blood.

Yet, the trail of blood ended abruptly in front of the Royal Academy.

Judging by the traces of thorns bouncing off an invisible barrier, it seems the Royal Academy also erected a protective shield like my dormitory.

Perhaps that’s why the road leading from the main gate to the classrooms remained untouched.

Hopefully, Victoria suffered less emotional trauma.

I moved Victoria into her room. As soon as we entered, I gently set her down and grabbed her cheeks to stretch them.

“Ugh, ugh!”

Startled, Victoria’s eyes shot open.

“Bell? Wha—oh! Wait… this is my room?”

Surprised, she stared at me, then looked around before shakily standing up.

“Yes, correct. Go shower immediately. Here’s a towel.”

Still bewildered, Victoria hesitated. I pushed her into the bathroom and retrieved fresh clothes from the wardrobe. Then I opened the door again.

“KYAAAH!”

Victoria screamed, startled, trying to cover herself mid-undress.

Is this normal for girls her age?

To me, whether male or female nudity, it’s all just a vehicle for warmth now—no big deal.

“What’s wrong? Here’s underwear to change into. Wash properly despite the scratches on your arms and legs.”

“Are you my mom or something?!”

“Victoria’s just too clumsy.”

Inside, she tossed her dirty clothes aside, which I balled up and set aside in a corner. Looking around, the room was trashed, likely invaded by the thorns.

I left the broken parts alone but tidied up what I could.

By the time I finished cleaning up, Victoria stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet with a towel loosely draped around her.

“Victoria, dry yourself.”

“I’m hungry and too weak…”

True, she lost a lot of blood and used a ton of psychic energy. Harvesters gain enhanced physical resilience, so while most people might’ve fallen ill, aside from feeling a bit drained, she seemed okay.

Having observed Soo-oh closely, I understood how much pain and recovery times vary. Victoria should follow a similar pattern.

I sat her down and dried her hair gently with a towel.

“You’re surprisingly gentle. Have you dried someone else’s hair before?”

While carefully patting her hair, Victoria turned her head and asked curiously. I redirected her gaze forward and replied.

“Yes.”

“Who? Your kid? Wait… you weren’t secretly married, were you?”

“Are you insane? Humanity?”

Victoria fidgeted and muttered, shaking her foot.

“But sometimes, Bell, you feel like an aunt. Like now.”

Really?

“I’m four months old.”

“The person inside you, I mean.”

Technically, I’ve lived quite a long time, but let’s say this:

“There’s no one inside me, Victoria. Trying to find the red pill is forbidden.”

“The red pill?”

“Ah, not terminology from this world. It means keeping secrets sacred is beautiful.”

The blue pill shows beautiful lies; the red pill reveals ugly truths.

Seems yesterday’s faded memories resurfaced.

I arranged Victoria comfortably in bed and pointed toward the door.

“Apply ointment and eat later, okay?”

“Yeah, Mom…”

Leaving her complaints behind, I picked up the remnants of Maleficent I’d pinned near the entrance.

“See you tomorrow.”

After bidding farewell to Victoria, I exited the room.

Now, it’s time for me to return to my accommodation.

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