Hate me, Miss Witch!

Chapter 395 - 205: Augutina: I Will Raise Your Fiancé, So You Need Not Worry

The crumbling Lost Island, at the very center of the shattered Royal Court.

The immense roar of the collapsing sky still echoes at the end of the Abyss, resonating through the mountains and the sea.

However, atop that desolate Throne.

The human youth, pierced by the Sacred Spear of Silver, has already lost his vitality.

His head drooped powerlessly, with his eyes tightly closed beneath his dark fragmented hair.

If not for the faint glow wrapped around his entire body, slowly ebbing and flowing over a long cycle beside that silver-white Sacred Spear.

Anyone coming here would mistake him for a statue.

Like Jesus in distress, pierced on the cross by the spear of destiny named Gungnir.

This is an inevitable phenomenon.

When Shiayar fell into the Abyss, he devoted all his heart and spirit entirely into his Spiritual World, contending against that lofty will.

This is a long gamble; its duration is unknown.

And the only certainty is that in this game of unknown length, neither side will have a moment to breathe.

Both sides of the gamble have wagered everything they have.

A moment of distraction, a momentary lapse, and all would be lost.

The farewell words left for Hathaway earlier were naturally just comfort.

This is a world beyond the ordinary; ancient means powerful, and the talk of enduring is merely words, from beginning to end, Shiayar knew one thing clearly —

From the start, he was the underdog in the game.

He was not yet thirty years old, even counting the years before crossing over, he was not yet sixty...

To oppose an entity that might have existed for thousands or even tens of thousands of years, and to win, to become the true final victor.

With that creator of the Glorious Era as the opponent, from the very start, Shiayar had no room for distraction.

Of course, he was not alone.

The Sacred Spear that pierced his chest was not a curse but a protection for him.

It bore the intentions of a girl named Enola from several eras ahead.

Relying on the power of the Sacred Spear itself, Shiayar could hold his spirit firm, to ensure he would not lose from the very outset in the game of the Spiritual World.

Even so, it was still exceedingly difficult.

Only by expending all his mind, enduring the solitude of long years, and exhausting everything he had.

Did he have a chance—to strive for that lone opportunity to win.

Not only did he relinquish his perception of the outside world, but also control over his own body, Shiayar had entirely abandoned.

Even if the skies outside were falling, and the world was ending, he probably would remain unaware.

After all, with the Sacred Spear’s immortal protection, even if he did not eat or drink for hundreds of years, he likely wouldn’t starve.

The silent clusters of palaces thus accompanied the sleeping lad pierced by the Sacred Spear on the Throne, plunging into eternal silence.

No one knows how long this silence will last, perhaps decades, perhaps centuries.

Or perhaps, forever.

There is no certainty in the gamble of spiritual power, nor may there be a winner; mutual destruction, with both spiritual powers fading into silence, is not an impossibility.

This deathly stillness lingered for an unknown time.

Until, at a certain moment.

The silence was broken.

A small, pitch-black dragon tail, quietly emerged from the eternally dark world.

The next moment.

The thin shadow, along with the inky night, silently enveloped the deathly still palaces—

It was a petite Black Dragon, beautiful and elegant, clearly in its infancy, yet one could envision its majestic demeanor upon maturity.

If Shiayar noticed Night’s appearance at this moment, he would undoubtedly be shocked.

Because long before opening that final journey with Hathaway, he had already arranged everything for the plan of falling into the Abyss.

Most of the pet beasts within his Soul Pact Space, Shiayar had set a slumber barrier for them.

After all, no one knew what barren scenery awaited at the bottom of the Abyss, nor if there would be any food at all.

Unlike the immortal protection granted by the Sacred Spear, which did not work on his pet beasts.

Only by entering a hibernation-like sleep state could Shiayar’s pet beasts have a chance of surviving the long nights with the resources stored in the Sparkling Space Pocket.

Shiayar once considered whether to take this opportunity to send his pet beasts for level-up training on the Western Continent.

However, considering the Western Continent’s current unrest, the aftershocks of the previous cataclysm had not yet ceased, no one knew how many semi-mad Fabled Species were rampaging across the land, Shiayar ultimately decided not to.

Among Shiayar’s pet beasts, Crimson protested.

It feared no danger, not the pollution of the Fallen Sun, nor confronting the Fabled Creatures.

On the contrary, it desired to grow stronger through battles with the Fabled Creatures.

In the process thus far, along with the joining of one new pet beast after another, Crimson’s sense of crisis had only intensified.