Chapter 28: Submission

It was night.

Famic opened their eyes in confusion, staring bewildered at the rocky cavern ceiling.

Stupidly, as if just awakened, their thoughts short‑circuited.

After a brief pause they said, "I'm not dead."

"Oh, you just want to die like that."

Hearing a familiar man's voice at their ear, Famic was startled.

They scrambled to sit up, a wary expression on their face as they looked toward the source of the voice.

There, the man who had earlier filled her with fear of death now sat beside her, smiling as he gazed at her.

"Y‑you, why didn't you kill me?"

Famic's tone carried a hint of doubt.

After all, they had repeatedly tried to strike him down.

Fulade ignored Famic and instead examined an ancient witchcraft scroll in his hand.

Seeing Fulade pay them no heed, Famic gradually relaxed their guard.

Only then did they realize they were lying on a bed.

Famic instinctively lowered their head to look at their body, and after seeing their clothes still intact, silently breathed a sigh of relief.

Did he put me on the bed? What does he actually want? Famic thought.

Watching Fulade savoringly examine the witchcraft scrolls he had collected, Famic, after calming down, couldn't suppress their curiosity and asked, "Who are you?"

"What exactly do you want to do?"

"Didn't I already tell you before?"

Fulade continued leafing through the tome in his hand, replying absentmindedly.

"Your witchcraft is quite interesting, Bloodline Fusion!?"

"Bloodline Fusion: enhances physical melee abilities—speed, strength, magical resistance, elemental affinity, and so on—all increase dramatically."

"Tsk tsk~ How come I didn't see you use it."

Fulade folded the scroll and said to the still‑wary Famic before him.

Hearing Fulade's words, Famic's plump lips twitched slightly, and after a brief pause said:

"It's not that I don't want to cultivate, it's just that I lack a suitable bloodline to fuse with."

Speaking, they glanced at Fulade again, then shyly pressed their plump lips together and said:

"Besides, after Bloodline Fusion you look too ugly."

Hearing that reply, Fulade's eyes widened as he looked up, scrutinizing the Famic before him.

He hadn't expected that this era's Famic would care so much about their appearance.

According to Witch Hunter, Famic, as the Dark Witch leader of this region, often resorts to any means to boost their strength.

Moreover, at that time Famic had already mastered the Bloodline Fusion transformation witchcraft.

Thinking of this, an image of Famic after Bloodline Fusion transformation instantly flashed in Fulade's mind.

Uh, it really is quite ugly.

Seeing Fulade's strange, scrutinizing gaze, Famic couldn't help but shiver, a fine layer of tiny bumps rising on their delicate skin.

"Y‑you, why are you looking at me like that?"

Looking at the Famic before him who had not yet become the Dark Witch leader, Fulade said, "Have you decided whether to submit to me?"

"My patience is limited, and this is your final chance!"

Seeing Famic still seeming to be scheming, Fulade fixed a profoundly deep gaze into their eyes, solemnly reminding them.

Sure enough, the Famic who had been trying to stall and think of a plan trembled at Fulade's warning, their plump figure shaking as memories of the suffocating fear of death resurfaced.

Seeing Famic fall silent because of his warning, Fulade no longer pressed further.

He believed that Famic, destined to become the Witch leader, would make the wisest choice.

After a long silence, Famic, full of resentment, looked at Fulade and said, "I still don't know who you are."

Seeing Famic's attitude loosen and defenses drop, Fulade gave a faint smile.

"Fulade."

Famic silently whispered the name in their mind, and for some reason, they seemed to have heard it somewhere before.

Just as Famic frowned in distraction, Fulade suddenly stood, extended a finger, and hooked Famic's luscious, tempting jaw.

Forced to lift their head, Famic was startled; on their mature, womanly face, their eyes instinctively began to keep dodging, revealing a flash of panic.

"He—what does he want to do to me?"

Seeing Fulade's handsome face drawing nearer, Famic instinctively closed their eyes, their heart pounding wildly with panic.

"You said you don't have Bloodline Fusion, I can give it to you."

"You won't become ugly."

"And you'll stay forever youthful!"

"Want—maybe."

"W‑what?"

Famic, whose face was flushed and heart racing with extreme tension, froze in surprise, suddenly hearing a whisper at their ear and unable to react.

"What I said~ wasn't clear enough." Fulade frowned, looking rather displeased.

"No, it's not."

"I understand."

Regaining composure, Famic quickly nodded, then bowed their head awkwardly.

She still doesn't understand; she just made a huge blunder herself.

Famic hurriedly forced himself to suppress the palpitations that arose when Fulade kept approaching; after a while, the scorching, embarrassingly red feeling gradually faded.

Unfortunately, Famic did not notice Fulade's slight upturned curve at the corner of his mouth and the teasing glint deep in his eyes.

Seeing Famic finally submit beneath his mouth, Fulade couldn't help shaking his head, remarking that this mature woman truly cannot be compared to a girl.

It's really too rational.

Even though she was stirred into a fluttering panic, she still didn't forget to secure strong terms for herself.

It's nothing like Weiluona and the other girls, who, once teased, lose all sense of direction.

It is said that converting a Witch into a vampire bloodline actually consumes nearly thirty percent of his vital blood to complete the transformation.

The reason is that Famic's own magical energy constantly repels the alteration of the vampire bloodline.

This explains why, among the Witch hunters, those Dark Witches are each uglier than the last, entirely due to internal energy conflicts.

Fortunately, Fulade noticed something was wrong; after seeing Famic drink his own fresh blood, the internal energy repulsion and uprising caused his skin to develop large-scale cracks.

He promptly injected more blood into Famic's body, lest Famic be unable to escape that ugly fate of history.

"Lord, the witches around Aogesiboge have almost all arrived here."

Famic looked at Fulade standing before him, his tall, upright posture, handsome features, and a flash of heat in his gaze.

"Hmm, from now on you will preside."

Fulade calmly nodded, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze profoundly fixed on the dozens of witches gathering below.

These witches are the ones he has carefully selected over the past few days; aside from those unsightly, weak, or mentally unstable, the remaining witches have almost all arrived here.

The reason he gathered all these Dark Witches here is, of course, to catch them all in one net.

Such a massive concentration of the extraordinary in one region is rare in this world, so Fulade naturally does not want to waste this opportunity to boost his power in a short time.

As Famic leapt off the cliff onto the mid-mountain platform, all the witches' gazes inevitably focused on him.

The Witch gathering then commenced.

(End of Chapter)