Chapter 733: The Guidance of True Love

Soon, Dorothy stopped wondering, for the performance upon the moonlit stage had already begun.

The melodious, enchanting voice of the Nine-Tailed Opera filled her ears, each note sung with exquisite beauty, seeming to slip directly through her ears and sink deep into her soul, etching itself into its very core.

The minds of every audience member who heard this song were seized in an instant, followed by complete immersion.

Onstage, the Heart-Stealing Dancer also moved, her graceful posture capturing every viewer's gaze with just a single beginning motion.

Perhaps you initially paid attention only to this lady's incredibly alluring figure, glancing casually with appreciation—but at this moment, as she moved, you could no longer tear your eyes away.

Her breathtaking dance had ensnared your spirit; the emotions and messages conveyed through her movements had taken over your soul, making you forget everything else, no longer caring about whether her figure was alluring or whether the performer was attractive—such trivial concerns vanished.

When the song and dance unfolded together, the doubled enchantment delivered an unparalleled audiovisual experience—you instantly felt as if your soul had left your body, plunging straight into the stage, as though you yourself had become part of the story, living it firsthand.

Real. Real. And damn real.

"Oh my god, no wonder she's a top-tier star—this kind of mental control could kill anyone anytime, yet she only uses it for performance. Being a witch actress is truly terrifying."

Dorothy thought to herself.

Even though she had already experienced this once through Senior Senior Fan Ni's memories, that experience felt like viewing through a membrane—even if the membrane was ultra-thin, the sensation was still fundamentally different.

Besides, the performance Senior Senior Fan Ni had watched was performed by other actors; though they too were top-tier stars, Dorothy felt these two performers on stage were far more skilled.

"If you think it's beautiful, then stop daydreaming and just watch the show."

At that moment, a tendril hanging from her hat tapped her head, and Senior Senior Fan Ni's impatient voice echoed in Dorothy's ear.

Dorothy immediately held her breath, stilled her mind, released the Unmoving Mountain state of the Bodhisattva's Heart, and willingly surrendered herself into the illusion of song and dance.

Yes, although the two masters on stage were at the peak of their art, the enchantment they wielded was an area-of-effect ability, not a single-target one; the House Witch, relying on the Bodhisattva's Heart, could easily resist it, remaining awake while other audience members were helplessly drawn into the performance, sinking into oblivion.

This was an incredibly terrifying mental magic—only the two ladies could be true pinnacles of the Mentalism school; had they harbored any ill intent, after this performance, most of the audience's souls could have been easily reaped.

To be honest, the feeling of surrendering your entire life to another's hands was deeply unpleasant—under normal circumstances, Dorothy would never dare play such a game.

But now it didn't matter—after all, she was a Yin Cha; her soul wasn't something just anyone could touch. If anyone tried to interfere with her soul, they'd better be ready for their scythe's blade to shatter against a stone.

Besides, wasn't there a future Fourth King hanging above her head?

Though Senior Senior Fan Ni was somewhat embarrassing in other fields, in matters tied to illusions and dreams, she could stand tall.

So Dorothy lowered her guard, ceased resistance, and even actively embraced the two ladies' enchantment, letting her spiritual will sink into the stage's illusion.

In a daze, the world spun wildly—when the House Witch opened her eyes again, she found herself in a completely different environment.

"Hmm, so weird—it feels like I've been reincarnated again."

This strange sensation reminded Dorothy of her experience during the Witch Night.

That Witch Night dream felt very similar—both offered an extreme sense of realism, indistinguishable from reality.

But this viewing perspective was still less free than Witch Night; at least now, Dorothy could only control her thoughts, not her body.

Hmm, this was an audience perspective similar to a Shadow Film—immersing viewers into the protagonist's viewpoint, experiencing the story firsthand.

But Shadow Films required time, effort, professional actors, cinematographers, elaborate set designs, and more.

This opera required none of that—the performers could create effects rivaling grand-scale Shadow Films using only their own abilities and acting.

Even surpassing them.

Dorothy had just filmed a Shadow Film; she understood the craft well—normal Shadow Films offered viewers only a few character perspectives, mostly just the main protagonists and a handful of key supporting roles.

But now, within this stage illusion, the House Witch felt she could become anything.

For instance, right now, the character she inhabited had walked to the window and gazed out.

Dorothy shared this person's vision, so the magnificent, awe-inspiring cityscape outside was laid bare before her.

Ah, that light, ah, this water, ah, those long legs.

Below the window was a street, where a tall, elegantly dressed beauty with a revealing outfit gracefully strode by, her long legs moving in rhythm, a dog leashed in her hand.

The unknown character Dorothy inhabited clearly understood human nature—her gaze remained locked on the girl's legs.

Wow, those black stockings.

"Comrade."

Dorothy silently gave her host character a thumbs-up, then shifted her thoughts—and her vision changed again.

This time, what first met her eyes were two smooth, straight, black-stockinged legs.

So close—close enough to lick.

Don't ask why not with her hands—because now, the House Witch was a dog.

Yes, the very dog the long-legged girl was walking.

Honestly, after spending so long as a human, experiencing the dog's perspective was unexpectedly novel and amusing—especially when the girl bent down to play with the dog, revealing such a breathtaking view.

Wow, so this is what it's like to be a dog?

The dog's face wore a dazed, lecherous grin—but it quickly returned to normal. Above, a passing eagle stiffened its wings, nearly plummeting—only to recover instantly, executing a flawless 360-degree aerial spin before soaring past the long-legged girl and the happy dog.

"Damn, so I can really move freely?"

The now-eagle Dorothy thought in surprise.

She realized that her freedom of movement seemed to vary each time she switched hosts.

For example, at first she couldn't move at all; then as a dog, she could show expressions; now as this eagle, she could control nearly everything—each host seemed to grant different levels of freedom.

But she didn't know the rule governing these differences.

As the eagle, Dorothy pondered this while circling in the sky.

For someone who was the Dragon Witch and naturally possessed dragon wings, controlling flight was effortless.

She looked down toward the window on the rooftop, wanting to see who she had originally inhabited.

But the moment she looked, she nearly forgot to flap her wings and crashed again.

"Oh my god, Arti—wait, no, the Demon Lord."

Though the black-haired girl at the window differed slightly from Dorothy's memory of the Evil Spawn toddler, girls change a lot by eighteen—some variation was normal—but the contours and features were unmistakable.

It was clearly the young Demon Lord herself.

Damn, so the initial viewpoint really was the protagonist's.

Now, as Dorothy looked again at the long-legged girl walking the dog, she didn't look at her legs—she looked at her face.

Oh my god, this is the ancestral matriarch of Wen Wen's big-mouthed crow—the Liar Sage, Hermos.

Well, this was a scripted stage play, so this scene was likely the two protagonists' first meeting—even though neither knew the other yet, nor could they imagine they'd one day become lovers and rivals.

Such is fate.

The eagle Dorothy circled above, watching the two great ones who didn't yet know each other, felt a deep pang of awe—some inexplicable stirring of fate's power.

This scene was scripted, of course—but in true history, did this moment also occur? And that wasn't a script—no, the script's name was *Fate*.

Just as the House Witch was lost in thought, the scene below finally began.

The young Demon Lord at the windowsill had apparently just finished writing a letter, which now rested beside her on the sill—when a mysterious gust of wind swept through, snatching the letter off the sill, spinning it through the air until it landed precisely at Hermos's feet.

The dog sniffed the letter, then obediently picked it up in its mouth and brought it to its owner.

Above, the eagle Dorothy fell silent.

Then the eagle raised a wing to rub its head, brimming with unspoken complaints.

This gesture nearly caused the eagle to crash for the third time.

Fortunately, the eagle's role was insignificant—apparently, no matter how wildly it acted, the protagonists below completely ignored it; otherwise, the two great ones might have already turned their gazes upward.

After all, they were all witches—beings wielding magical power, revered by mortals as deities.

Come on—this was a young Demon Lord! What kind of wind could steal a letter right from her grasp? And even if the wind did carry it away, couldn't she simply summon a Mage Hand to retrieve it? Don't tell me a young Demon Lord couldn't manage such a simple thing.

If this were a mortal drama, Dorothy might find the scene plausible—but this was a witch drama.

So this was ridiculous.

Unless the young Demon Lord had done it on purpose—she was fishing.

Dorothy thought this.

But if she followed this line of thought, the scene suddenly seemed plausible again—after all, knowing Arti, the wicked thing was absolutely capable of fishing.

So she quickly detached from the eagle's body and switched back to the young Demon Lord's perspective.

After all, she remembered that Shadow Films allowed viewers to experience the protagonist's emotions and thoughts—so this higher-tier opera should be able to as well.

Hmm, she wanted to see if Arti was truly fishing.

When she truly switched into the young Demon Lord's body, a wave of information suddenly surfaced in her mind—her thoughts at that very moment.

"Fate, please carry this letter, filled with my true heart, to her master."

Dorothy read the message, then fell silent.

Oh.

She'd guessed half right—yes, the young Demon Lord had done this intentionally; no ordinary wind could have taken the letter from her.

But she'd wronged the Demon Lord—this wasn't malicious fishing; it was a pure, sincere prayer from the girl's heart.

Truly, if this were any other protagonist, Dorothy might have been deeply moved, sighing about the beauty of youth and the poetry of maidenly longing.

But this was Arti—so Dorothy only sighed, wondering which poor soul had the bad luck to catch the attention of such a wicked thing.

Terrifying? It truly was terrifying.

Clearly, this stage of the young Demon Lord had not yet risen to prominence—her magic was still immature, far from the majesty of the later Witch Queen—but the genius of the Witch World's greatest prodigy before Dorothy was already beginning to show.

After all, the magic used to deliver the letter was no simple trick.

Others might not have recognized the uniqueness of that wind—but as a Master of Spells, the Lady of the Woods instantly identified it: the Ninth-Rank Divination spell—*The Guidance of True Love's Wind*.

This spell was one of the prerequisites for the Twelfth-Rank Forbidden Spell—*Cupid's Arrow*—and among the most difficult Ninth-Rank Divination spells; many witches mastered other Divination spells yet still could not learn this one.

The spell had two learning requirements: one, a heart filled with true love; two, exceptional fate talent.

Oh, Dorothy possessed neither—hence why the Lady of the Woods hated this spell with a burning passion.

Now, this young Demon Lord appeared to be only sixteen or seventeen—about Dorothy's age—but she had already mastered this high-difficulty spell.

This shows just how extraordinary the talent is.

Although the Demon Lord's spell still failed.

Hmph, a pathetic mage who can't even cast properly.

The House Witch, who couldn't even learn properly, let out a cold snort in her heart and thought thus.

Xī Bǎo is feeling jealous.

(End of Chapter)