Chapter 39: Three Paths

Although she was deeply dissatisfied with her daughter’s stubborn insistence on pursuing scientific research as this “deviant path,” and still felt it was a waste of her daughter’s talent, Euphelia truly understood her daughter’s thoughts now.

After all, in some sense, her daughter’s personality and temperament were exactly like her own.

Euphelia had been raised since childhood as the future clan leader; her life’s ideal was the revival of her family—whether this ideal originated from within her or was implanted by her family through indoctrination no longer mattered.

To the Dragon Witch of today, power and duty were one and the same: since her path of growth had indeed received the family’s investment and support, reviving the family had become her obligation, and apart from all else, this was merely an equal exchange—fair and just.

Euphelia also cherished such fairness; equal exchange had long become her life’s creed.

Thus, anyone who dared trample upon this fairness must pay the price.

The family gave her investment; she took upon herself the duty of reviving the family. She would not refuse any task befitting a competent clan head, but that did not mean she would become a puppet of family revival, mechanically fulfilling a mission at the cost of abandoning everything.

With her talent, she could have chosen many shortcuts to revive the family back then—the simplest being marriage or becoming a son-in-law to another family of the Dragon Realm; with her gifts, no family would have refused her, and in fact, the number of families that had sought her hand in marriage had once worn down their own thresholds.

Yet Euphelia ultimately rejected them all. She scorned such shortcuts; she had her own dignity and pride.

In life, some choices are theoretically optimal, but that does not mean they are necessarily right.

Her refusal had stirred turmoil within the family; many elders accused her of being too young, too naive, squandering opportunities, called her arrogant and ungrateful, and some even brought forth clan law, demanding she be punished as a clan head.

Euphelia did not yield. She didn’t even bother arguing with those fools. As the clan’s strongest at the time, she merely “kindly” persuaded them with “reason,” and those opposing elders, wise enough to read the signs, “voluntarily” departed for the frontier to clear land for the clan’s territory.

When had it ever been anyone’s place to meddle in Euphelia’s life? She would revive the family—but how, and by what means, would be decided solely by her.

Since the family entrusted her with this heavy burden, let them entrust it fully.

She wished that from then on, only one voice would speak within the entire clan—her voice as clan head. She would lead the family onto the correct path; everyone else need only obey, obey, and obey again.

Those old fools’ thoughts were too weak. They were the truly naive ones. A revival achieved through others’ power would inevitably be influenced by them later; how could a family that could not stand on its own claim revival? How could it claim honor?

In Euphelia’s heart, there was only one path to family revival: to follow the path of her ancestor, the Dragon King—to personally carve, conquer, and develop with her own hands.

Even if this path was the most perilous and difficult, so what? It was the path of glory, the path of splendor. Only by reaching its end could Euphelia fulfill her life’s ideal.

All other shortcuts were heretical, utterly meaningless.

Yet, she could not recall when she herself had begun to forget this original ideal.

Now, looking back, her own opposition to her daughter mirrored exactly how those old fools had opposed her—only now she was the stronger one, and her weak daughter lacked the power to replicate her past ruthlessness and send her mother to the frontier to dig potatoes.

Yet equally, she did not doubt that if her daughter truly had the power, she might well have done exactly that.

Thinking of this, Euphelia recalled the words of Dorothy’s short-statured stepmother, Anne.

“Sigh, as a mother, I seem to fall far short indeed.”

The Dragon Witch sighed inwardly, feeling both sorrow and pride.

She lifted her head, gazing intently at her daughter, still trembling slightly from her mother’s intimidation—and the more she looked, the more pleased she became.

No wonder she is my daughter, my bloodline’s continuation. Even after years of influence from that useless Adam, her temperament and character remain exactly like mine.

Thus, though her heart still resisted, the strong, domineering Dragon Witch reluctantly chose to yield. She looked at her daughter and spoke.

“I think I understand what you mean, Dorothy.”

Upon hearing this, Euphelia unsurprisingly saw her daughter’s bewildered, confused expression—the sheer disbelief in her daughter’s eyes, as if screaming, “You understood what exactly?”—brought a quiet joy to the Dragon Witch’s heart. She had not felt such pure happiness in many years; it was like the delight of a child successfully pulling off a prank.

“Don’t worry—I won’t just give you money or grant you a territory. That would be an insult, wouldn’t it, my daughter?”

Euphelia spoke again, and this time, she saw surprise in her daughter’s eyes. For the first time, the daughter who had always regarded her mother like a stranger—distant, reserved—shone with light, her gaze softening and drawing closer.

This confirmed Euphelia’s earlier suspicion: her daughter’s temperament and character truly mirrored her own.

“So, choose whichever academy you wish. I will say no more.”

At these words, the sudden brightness in her daughter’s eyes filled Euphelia with quiet satisfaction. She knew that, with this, the relationship between mother and daughter had taken a great leap forward.

If her only goal were to mend their relationship, perhaps with a little more effort, her daughter might even change her formal, distant address of “Mother” to the warmer “Mom.”

But...

My foolish, naive daughter, do you truly think I only wish to be a so-called “good mother”?

The Dragon Witch’s lips curled slightly, revealing a malicious smile.

This naive child still does not understand the importance of “reason” in this world. Does she truly believe everyone she meets in the future will be as patient and accommodating as I am? Does she know how many times she would have been dead already if she weren’t my daughter, simply for her attitude alone?

In this cruel world, without strength, one cannot take a single step.

Even if I become an unfit mother, even if I am hated and misunderstood, this one truth must be etched into this child’s soul.

Dorothy, surprised and delighted, stared at the Dragon Witch before her. She was astonished to discover that this unfamiliar mother truly understood her thoughts.

And she had actually agreed to her daughter’s modest, aimless, lieping ideal—she hadn’t simply dragged her back by force to inherit the family business.

In that moment, Dorothy felt a surge of emotion—for the first time in two lifetimes, she had a mother, and this mother was her confidante. Two joys combined, multiplying into greater joy.

Dorothy could not help but begin imagining a future of harmonious family bliss.

Yes, that’s how it should be. I never had grand ambitions—I only want a peaceful, happy home. Family harmony matters more than anything.

She gazed at the smiling Dragon Witch, her emotion so strong it nearly spilled out as the most sincere term of endearment.

“Mom...”

Yet the moment she opened her mouth, she saw her mother’s smile twist into something cruel.

“But...”

The Dragon Witch fixed her gaze on Dorothy, her Demon Queen aura surging, instantly overwhelming.

“Dorothy, I’ve heard your reasons, and I understand them. Now, isn’t it your turn to listen to my demands?”

“Do you understand equal exchange? My daughter—this is my life’s creed. I believe all things can be exchanged at equal value.”

“I paid a great price to give birth to you, so that I might leave behind a worthy heir. Everything I’ve struggled for must be inherited. Now that you’ve grown, developed your own ideals and path, yet refuse to accept the duty that rightfully belongs to you—what will you offer me in return? Or how will you trade your freedom from me?”

Euphelia’s golden dragon eyes locked onto Dorothy’s bewildered gaze, then she threw out three choices with absolute dominance.

“I give you three choices.”

The Dragon Witch raised three fingers.

“First: abandon your boring dreams and dignity right now, return with me, and become my heir properly. I will entrust you with all my territories—you may design your ideal blueprint as you wish—but you must also fulfill your duty to the family’s continuity. You will become an Armed Witch.”

“Second: you may freely govern your own life. For the next fifty years, do whatever you please—I won’t interfere. But after fifty years, I will come and drag you back myself. I will launch a Lord’s War against your territory. If you successfully resist me, you are free. If you fail and I capture you, you will obediently become my heir and walk the path I’ve laid out for you.”

“Third: the easiest. Marry Sofiria right now. I want you two to give me a granddaughter as soon as possible—I don’t care which one of you bears her, but I want a granddaughter. Once you have her, you are both free. How does that sound?”

Dorothy: “........”

Sofiria, who had been eating the mother-daughter drama and now found herself on the menu: “.......”