Chapter 29: Come, Fight!

In the gladiator arena’s preparation room.

Dorothy sat on a soft chair, removing the tiny kitten that had been sleeping on her shoulder, and gently woke her with a finger.

“It’s time, Bastet—this is our first battle.”

"Meow~ Ao~"

The kitten, just awakened by her master, was still confused about what was happening, but upon hearing her master’s words, she instantly glared with wide eyes and let out a tiny, self-assured roar.

“Perfect—you’re truly my staff, Bastet, so reliable.”

Dorothy chuckled at the little creature, but to avoid hurting her feelings, she covered her mouth, calmed her laughter, then praised the kitten like comforting a child.

Delighted by her master’s praise, the kitten beamed, lowered her head, and rubbed her forehead against her master’s palm, while a tender yet pure and resolute voice echoed in Dorothy’s heart.

“I bless you, my master—may victory ever attend you.”

As this inner voice sounded, Dorothy’s previously tense heart, stirred by the prospect of her first real battle, suddenly eased; a strange confidence surged within her, as if victory truly clung to her side.

Yet her overly powerful intuition quickly pierced through the source of this power, seeing through the true nature of the blessing.

“It’s a kind of hypnotic psychological blessing—boosting morale, confidence, and battle fervor—but still crude and immature.”

Though she internally judged it thus, it did not prevent Dorothy from gazing at the tiny kitten in wonder.

This little thing truly had something special—had she already begun awakening her talent so soon after birth? And this war-mobilizing power was intriguing, somehow linked to the true name I bestowed upon her.

Bastet, the Cat Goddess, was a goddess from ancient Egyptian mythology in her past life—a guardian of the household, daughter of the sun, gentle and loving.

Yet she also possessed a fierce, brutal side, sometimes regarded as a dual aspect of Sekhmet, the lioness goddess, symbolizing the balance of nature and power.

Legend says that when Bastet was enraged, she manifested as Sekhmet—the brutal form of the war goddess, destroyer, and avenger.

Thus, Bastet’s blessing just now already carried a hint of the war goddess’s divine authority, though this nascent power was still leagues away from true divinity—but the little one is still growing, and the future is promising, promising indeed.

At least my previous massive investment wasn’t wasted—this little one’s talent far exceeded expectations.

“Thank you for your blessing, Bastet—now come with me to the battlefield.”

In high spirits, Dorothy had already forgotten her pre-battle nerves; she made no effort to dispel the kitten’s childish "war declaration," and instead, brimming with battle fervor, invited her companion.

"Meow~ Ao~"

The kitten let out a joyful cry, then revealed her true form in a burst of light.

It was a staff nearly two and a half meters long, radiant as if forged from gold; at its tip rested a cross-shaped design, with a luminous circular solar corona embedded at its center, wreathed in dazzling golden magical flames, resembling a miniature sun.

At the center of the corona was set a slender gem, shaped like a cat’s pupil, making the entire apex appear both as a sun and as a colossal cat’s eye.

This is the Eye of Ra, the Eye of the Sun God—Bastet, as the Sun God’s daughter, represented her father’s eye even before her birth, hence also called the Eastern Deity, the Dawn God, the Sacred All-Seeing Eye. (Refer to Sauron’s Eye from The Lord of the Rings.)

Dorothy reached out and grasped the magnificent, solemn staff; it felt warm and comfortable in her hand, a strange sense of closeness flowing from her palm, as if stroking the soft pad of a kitten’s foot.

Her magic began flowing from her body into the staff, smooth as silk, exquisitely effortless—no more of the cautious, hesitant handling she’d endured with her old staff; only the exhilarating harmony of wielder and staff as one.

Dorothy had used high-grade staves in the Magic Web before—powerful staves with built-in auxiliary abilities that could multiply her strength—but none had ever felt as naturally suited as Bastet did now.

Bastet felt as if custom-made for her shape—no need for adjustment, instantly responsive, perfectly attuned; this flawless synergy left Dorothy astonished.

Hmm—with such a partner in hand, there was nothing left to fear.

Clutching the cat-staff, the young witch rose with renewed confidence and walked to the gate.

One minute before the gate opened, Dorothy closed her eyes and adjusted her breathing.

It was her habit—a technique she’d developed after countless defeats in Magic Web duels, learning to calm her mind.

All pre-battle excitement or anxiety were burdens; the best mindset for impending combat was icy calm, like still water.

No need to ponder the gap between opponent and self—no amount of thinking could change the facts, only breed agitation; just focus on yourself, ensure minimal mistakes.

No need to wonder if you can win—the result after full effort will answer you; whether you taste the joy of victory or the bitterness of defeat, each has its own unique flavor.

In this moment of closed eyes and focused breath, Dorothy recalled the scene of her first entry into the Magic Web at age ten—still vivid in her mind, though back then she’d been far from calm, her head filled with emotions: excitement, passion, unease, fear of loss; even as the gate opened, she’d still been debating whether to open with a fireball or an ice arrow.

Now, she had indeed grown—from that novice into a seasoned veteran.

Victory no longer sent her into frenzy; defeat no longer shook her resolve.

The countless Magic Web duels of the past six years flashed before her like a whirlwind.

Storms that swept all away, thunderstorms like rain, unstoppable meteors, freezing cold that encased everything…

The arena always presented opponents of unimaginable power.

She had witnessed them all.

Defeat despite all-out effort, miraculous last-stand comebacks, evenly matched rivals who respected each other, flawless calculations ending in crushing victory…

The arena always held such dramatic turns.

She had lived them all.

So what was there to fear? This was merely an ordinary duel—even if this body was stepping onto the battlefield for the first time, her soul had already fought countless battles.

Even if Magic Web duels were artificial, even if that virtual world held only 99% of reality’s truth, some claimed true powerful witches never participated in such childish duels, for they were meaningless—the one percent difference between virtual and real could cost you your life on an actual battlefield.

But so what?

The Magic Web world was indeed false, but these six years of journey, effort, and achievement were undeniably real.

The illusory world gave me fertile soil to grow—and now, I shall turn illusion into reality, stepping onto the real arena.

Dorothy opened her eyes; the gate before her slowly opened, and outside, a flood of information surged into her senses, transformed into countless data processed by her mind.

Hmm, indeed different from the Magic Web—her mind, which had effortlessly handled everything in the virtual world, now felt like an overloaded computer, sluggish and strained; though the gap between reality and illusion seemed only one percent, the difference was truly qualitative, worlds apart.

This was the true difficulty of battle; compared to this, Magic Web duels felt like child’s play.

But so what?

This challenge was far more interesting—and besides, it was infinitely simpler than starting from zero six years ago.

Moreover, if the mind is overloaded, then upgrade the hardware on the spot.

Dorothy switched her breathing rhythm—a technique she had possessed since birth but had never consciously used before.

【Dragon’s Breath: What is the source of the dragon’s might? Its hard scales? Sharp claws? Or its destructive Dragon Tongue magic? No—it is the dragon’s breath.】

【Unique breathing forged the dragon’s strength, granting it a mighty physique, an endless magic heart, unbreakable scales, and invincible claws and fangs…】

【As long as it breathes, it grows stronger—breath is the dragon’s true source of power; dragon’s breath is the force that destroys all.】

On Dorothy’s identity card, the asterisk (*) hidden in the talent field vanished, revealing this final concealed talent—the power she inherited from her mother, Euphelia.

“Come, fight, Sophiliah.”

The young hatchling let out a childish dragon roar; new dragon wings unfurled behind her, lifting her into the sky.