Chapter 984: The Might of the Fierce Weapon

Audrey’s guidance was unexpectedly impressive. The little fox didn’t just have sharp eyesight that could pierce through the miasma and toxic fog—her nose was exceptional too.

Hmm, though this might sound rude, foxes are indeed canids, and as the king among foxes, the Nine-Tailed Fox’s sense of smell far surpasses any hunting dog’s. So Audrey could even clearly distinguish how many dragon beasts had passed nearby, and exactly when each had passed, amid the chaotic scents around her.

“Senior sister, I once saw a gem made from the eye of a Cockatrice Dragon—I’m familiar with that scent. There are indeed Cockatrice Dragons in this valley; I’ve smelled them. But the scent here is faint, probably left a week ago. The dragon pack must still be some distance away, but I’ll track them down.”

Audrey happily swished her fluffy nine great tails, her fox ears twitching, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Dorothy and said this.

Seeing her little junior sister, who practically had “Am I not amazing, Senior Sister? Don’t you want to praise me?” written all over her face, Dorothy naturally smiled, reached out, and ruffled the fox’s head, sincerely complimenting her.

“We’d have had to take a much longer detour without you, Audrey. You’ve been a huge help.”

Hmm, though as the Dragon Witch, the House Witch’s own sense of smell was no slouch either—she was a Dragon Chef, after all, and scent discrimination was one of her specialties. Plus, she knew several tracking spells; following prey’s trail wasn’t particularly difficult.

But the child had worked so hard, and done an absolutely outstanding job. Even if Dorothy herself tried, she couldn’t have done much better—so how could she not praise her?

Especially for a socially anxious child like Audrey, constant praise was essential to gradually build her confidence, until one day she could overcome her inner fears.

“Mmm hmm.”

Receiving the utmost beloved senior sister’s praise, the little fox, her head being stroked, immediately wore a blissful expression—her tail behind her was already wagging like a helicopter.

“Senior sister, I’ll find the Cockatrice Dragon pack soon.”

Audrey declared with full motivation and absolute confidence.

At this moment, nothing could stop her—not even social anxiety. Charge forward!

Right then, the little fox led the way, constantly twitching her delicate little nose, following the lingering scent in the air.

The other sisters also entered combat readiness, pulling out their wands and beginning to guard the surroundings.

Though they were hunters today, this pasture world was still a corner of the Dragon Realm—its dragon beasts were by no means helpless weaklings. If they grew arrogant enough to treat this like a leisurely picnic, who would end up as hunter and who as prey would be anyone’s guess.

Just like the local dragon people’s unique inherited profession name: Monster Hunter. But whether “hunter” here was a verb or a noun was debatable.

Only Long Ma and Mavis remained relaxed, for as the world’s sovereigns, they were truly on a picnic here, with no real danger.

Long Ma was smiling as she watched the young witches’ performance, nodding approvingly at their cautious attitude.

Meanwhile, the Time Dragon Witch’s gaze mostly lingered on her Master, though occasionally she’d sneak glances at Dorothy—especially her eyes would linger on the House Witch’s round, swollen belly.

Hmm, she’d held back for a long time. She really wanted to ask: whose child was in this lady’s belly? And wasn’t she just ten? What a beast—targeting a child so young! And just a few days ago she was fine—how did her belly swell so fast after entering the palace? The speed was unreasonable, and deeply unsettling.

Mavis really wanted to ask, but she dared not; she was suffocating with suppressed frustration.

Still, Lady Euphelia had always wanted an heir. If the lady herself refused, perhaps giving birth to a little one to satisfy Lady Euphelia’s wish wouldn’t be so bad.

Thinking this, Mavis felt slightly happier.

Though if she could, she’d really like to tell Lady Euphelia: “Actually, I could help the senior sister have a little one too.”

But no—she still couldn’t bring herself to say it. After all, Lady Euphelia was so perfect. Even though she’d worked hard, she still lacked the confidence to be worthy of her.

Waaah, it would be terrible if my bloodline tainted the senior sister’s perfect lineage.

Of course, thinking of this, the Time Dragon Witch gritted her teeth in rage—because the senior sister’s perfect bloodline had already been polluted by that lowly, weak human man. Mavis only cursed her own powerlessness, unable to reverse time and go back to stop the senior sister’s original bargain.

Similarly, she resented the person by extension. The Time Dragon Witch held serious objections toward the young witch carrying the inferior human bloodline—especially since this brat had the audacity to refuse becoming the senior sister’s heir. Did she even know what kind of wealth she was rejecting?

But over the past year, the lady had bombarded the headlines daily, numbing Mavis to it. She could only sigh, “No wonder she’s the senior sister’s daughter—so impressive,” while unconsciously developing some admiration for this young witch. Hmm, after all, she was the senior sister’s daughter.

She resented by association, and loved by association too.

But she still wouldn’t easily accept her—even though the lady didn’t need her approval anyway.

In short, the Time Dragon Witch’s emotions were complicated.

Of course, on the other side, Dorothy’s high sensitivity had keenly sensed Mavis’s gaze and perceived the complexity in the Time Dragon Witch’s eyes—but she didn’t care much.

Or rather, the Fairy King didn’t care.

Well, it’s natural for a rival to look at the goddess’s child like that. Can’t be helped. Better focus on the hunt.

She thought this, then, gracefully balancing her swollen belly, eagerly pulled out “Hundred-Head Slayer” from her pocket.

Hehehe, today I’m gonna blast the hell out of something.

But then—

“Roar! Roar! Roar!”

The instant the massive, ancient bow was drawn, the heavens and earth darkened, the atmosphere turned deadly, the surrounding valley erupted—distant, terrified dragon roars rose in succession, followed by the terrifying thunder of countless beasts fleeing.

But there was no need to panic. From the commotion of the fleeing beasts, the dragon pack wasn’t coming toward them—they were fleeing from them, desperately putting distance between themselves and this place.

But now all the prey had run away—what was the point of hunting anymore?

Instantly, everyone’s gaze turned to Dorothy and the terrifying, menacing bow in her hand.

The House Witch: “...”

Oh no.

The sudden commotion had stunned Dorothy too, but she immediately realized she’d messed up. Facing her sisters’ blank stares, she awkwardly scratched her head.

Luckily, it was the Fairy King—this shameless person—on the controls. If it had been the House Witch herself, she’d already be building a villa in a crack in the ground.

“It’s an accident! Really! I just wanted to test the new weapon—I never expected it to be this terrifying.”

The Fairy King laughed it off, while the House Witch in her mind was pondering deeper matters.

That celestial phenomenon just now clearly meant “Hundred-Head Slayer” had resonated with this pasture world, causing the heavens and earth to darken and the dragons to flee.

This kind of disturbance wasn’t hard to understand: it was like a colossal dragon of impossibly high rank suddenly appearing—like a max-level character teleporting into a beginner village. Naturally, the surrounding dragon packs panicked and fled.

“Hundred-Head Slayer” wasn’t a real dragon—but its materials came from a dragon of extraordinarily high rank.

She recalled the message from the Hero Adam she’d received when first acquiring “Hundred-Head Slayer.” In that message, she’d clearly seen the image of the Light Giant battling the Hundred-Headed Serpent Dragon. The battle’s impact had been cataclysmic—mountains shattered, sun and moon inverted—utterly terrifying.

It was a clash beyond the peak tier. Dorothy had never seen a Sage truly fight, but she imagined it couldn’t have been much different.

Dorothy didn’t doubt Hero Adam’s affection for her “cheap daughter.” So this final gift he’d given her couldn’t possibly be some half-hearted token. Adam himself had said he scoured the entire Dragon Realm before choosing that Hundred-Headed Serpent Dragon.

If his standards were this picky, could that Hundred-Headed Serpent Dragon have been an ordinary dragon?

Definitely not.

Dorothy had known the Hundred-Headed Serpent Dragon was no ordinary beast—she’d guessed it might be an Ancient Dragon—but now she realized she’d still vastly underestimated its strength.

A dragon long dead, turned into a weapon tens of thousands of years ago—and yet, merely appearing still caused the Dragon Realm’s very rules to resonate. What level must it have been in life?

“Holy crap, Dad—what the hell did you kill back then? Could this be a Dragon King? Maybe even...”

For a moment, Dorothy dared not think further.

And no one was truly angry—they’d all grown used to the House Witch’s occasional mishaps. Now everyone’s eyes were curiously fixed on the massive bow in her hand.

Even Long Ma and Mavis were the same.

Though Lady Euphelia had secretly observed Adam when he delivered the gift that day, she hadn’t paid much attention to the bow’s uniqueness—after all, in the proud Dragon Queen’s eyes, that bastard Adam couldn’t possibly have given anything good.

But now, Lady Euphelia frowned deeply.

Oh no—had I been the one who overreached?

Long Ma suddenly broke into a cold sweat.

Her competitiveness wouldn’t let her lose to that bastard who stole her daughter—but she couldn’t think of any gift that could match the power of this bow.

Well, not exactly—she could give the entire Yemengjia estate to her daughter, which might be roughly equivalent in value. But her daughter didn’t want the inheritance.

This was truly insane. Where on earth had Adam gotten such a terrifying weapon?

Lady Euphelia couldn’t comprehend it.

Beside her, Mavis’s eyes widened—her Dragon Witch instincts screamed warnings: stay far away, run, that thing is too terrifying, too dangerous to touch.

Fortunately, no one needed to ask—the young witches had already voiced their questions.

“Whoa, such a cool bow! Sister, where’d you get this new toy?”

Alice asked curiously, her eyes sparkling.

The young witch spoke her mind without filter—she had no idea how terrifying this bow truly was, only that it looked awesome and powerful, and she wanted one just like it.

“Hehe, family heirloom. Adam just passed it to me a few days ago. It’s the Hero’s legacy weapon.”

The Fairy King proudly showed off to her companions—she was nothing like her original self, who was so modest.

Inside her mind, Dorothy felt embarrassed and covered her face—but she couldn’t stop it.

Though she didn’t know where the Fairy King got her thick skin, she had to admit: she shared that urge to show off. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it openly. Now, borrowing the Fairy King’s shamelessness to brag, she secretly enjoyed it.

Hmm, this must be what’s called “quietly proud.”

“Hero’s legacy? Wait, so Uncle Adam is this powerful?”

Nearby, Miss Mia was surprised. She’d heard a bit about Heroes—they were the strongest profession among mortals. Each Hero could rival a Great Witch; some outstanding ones even matched Peak Witches. They were unquestionably human heroes. Sadly, they were exceedingly rare—among billions of mortals, one might emerge, a rarer probability than an Original Witch.

And no one knew where the Hero’s legacy originated. It remained a mystery. All that was known was that every few decades or centuries, legends of Heroes would surface.

Many witches found the Hero legends fascinating. After all, witches had human hearts—and human hearts naturally yearn for heroes, especially heroes even witches had to acknowledge as strong.

And these sisters were all young witches, still at the age of idolizing heroes. Hearing that a Hero’s legacy was right before them, they stared at Dorothy and her bow with shining eyes, as if wanting to touch it or ask for an autograph.

Madeline, the succubus, was practically drooling.

Even the ever-distant Sophieelia showed signs of interest—this made Dorothy smile inwardly.

My stoic housekeeper—so you too have a little girl’s heart hidden beneath that icy exterior.

And the Fairy King’s bold personality didn’t hold back—she cheerfully handed “Hundred-Head Slayer” to her sisters to examine.

Unfortunately, the bow’s spirit seemed unwilling—whenever the sisters reached to touch it, the dragon-serpent engravings on its surface would snarl and lash out as if threatening them.

Then—

Then the dragon-serpents got slapped hard by the Fairy King.

“Who are you trying to scare? Behave.”

And so, “Hundred-Head Slayer” became “Hundred-Headed-Whimperer.”

Damn it! How dare they treat a legendary weapon of destruction like this! When had it ever suffered such humiliation? But what could it do? Could it leave? No—it could only endure.

Meanwhile, the young witches were having a lively time—but the adults were now thinking far more deeply.

“Hero’s legacy?”

Long Ma fell into thought

Shoot a Hundred Heads: I am a divine artifact, I am a divine artifact, I truly am a divine artifact—where is my dignity and prestige?