Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

When Hestia woke up again, she found herself in a familiar setting—her bedroom from the home she lived in before she turned twelve. It was different from her current home.

The alarm on her bedside terminal buzzed. She picked it up, silenced the alarm, and checked the time.

[6th Epoch, Year 1248, September 2nd, 7:30:14 AM]

“Four years ago?” she murmured, sitting up and gazing at her blanket, bed, and the adorable stickers on the walls, filled with nostalgia.

Stepping onto the clean floor, she walked out of the room. In the living room, her father was preparing to leave for work, while her mother was making breakfast for her and her sister.

“Hestia, you’re up early today,” her father said, raising an eyebrow in a playful attempt to make her laugh. When it didn’t work, he simply waved goodbye and left for work.

Her mother placed a warm glass of milk on the table, then brought out freshly baked bread, sliced it, and set it on a plate.

“Hestia, could you call your sister? Didn’t she say she’s heading back to school today?”

“Ah, sure…” Hestia nodded but didn’t move. She simply stood there, staring at the serene, gentle woman before her.

“What’s wrong, Hestia? You’re staring at me.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll go get her now.” Hestia ran off, but as she passed the bathroom, she suddenly stopped and stepped inside.

“I knew it.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw her sixteen-year-old self. A wave of sadness washed over her.

It was a dream, after all. Her younger self wouldn’t have looked like this at sixteen, and her family hadn’t noticed anything strange.

Leaving the bathroom, she knocked on her sister’s door. With a mix of anticipation and nervousness, she finally heard the familiar voice, “Come in.”

The black-haired, violet-eyed girl was already awake. She sat by the window, gazing outside as wisps of clouds floated across the sky. A small, vibrant potted plant swayed gently in the breeze on the windowsill.

“Hestia, you’re here.”

She turned to look at the younger girl entering the room. Their features were strikingly similar, though the black-haired girl appeared more developed, as she was already eighteen at this time.

“Hestia has grown up beautifully, just as I thought,” she remarked with a smile.

Hestia froze upon hearing this.

“Sister?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“How old do I look to you right now?” Hestia asked tentatively.

“About sixteen or seventeen? Around the same age I was back then. Why?”

Her sister, Themisia, tilted her head, a lock of her black hair slipping over her shoulder.

“But… you’re six years older than me,” Hestia said, her voice dropping.

“Yes, but my age will forever remain at eighteen. You know that now, don’t you?”

The girl across from her calmly brushed back her hair as she spoke.

“Why, Sister?”

“Why? That’s hard to explain…”

Themisia stood up, walked over to Hestia, and gently took her hand.

“Hestia, have you ever studied ancient history? Stories from the Third Epoch?”

“I know some of it,” Hestia replied as they sat on the bed together, shoulders touching, backs leaning against each other.

“In the Third Epoch, there was a human kingdom where the prince married the queen of the Forest Elves, Titania, bringing the elves under their rule and strengthening the kingdom.”

“That’s the legend of the Verdant Empire,” Hestia recalled.

“Exactly. But that’s just the surface of history. As part of the union, a witch blessed the royal family with an artifact—a sacred chalice. Drinking from it would ensure the birth of twins.”

“With this artifact, every emperor of the Verdant Empire was a twin. These twins shared a deep connection, understanding each other perfectly, compensating for one another’s flaws, and becoming an inseparable whole. They were like two imperfect halves, coming together to form a flawless circle.”

“Sister…”

“We were supposed to be like those twins,” Themisia said wistfully.

“But fate played a cruel joke on us, and we couldn’t become whole.”

“Don’t worry, Hestia. I’ve already found a solution.”

“What solution?” Hestia asked, a sense of unease growing as she anticipated the answer.

“The solution is—we will become one again.” Themisia turned, gently hugging Hestia from behind and intertwining their hands.

At that moment, Hestia felt something strange. She could sense her sister’s heartbeat, the flow of her blood, her emotions, and even faint thoughts in her mind.

Hestia is so adorable, the thought lingered.

Surprised, Hestia turned to look at Themisia.

Her sister’s black hair flowed like a river, her violet eyes sparkling like stardust. A bewitching charm emanated from her, captivating and overwhelming.

“What do you mean by ‘becoming one’?” Hestia asked, averting her eyes, unable to meet those mesmerizing violet irises.

“It means we’ll complement each other’s flaws. Don’t you want to be stronger, Hestia? I can help you become braver and overcome your shyness and introversion,” Themisia said, holding Hestia’s hand gently, her voice warm and soothing.

“Is that so…”

“Because we are separated, neither of us is complete. Becoming one is the best solution. With my help, you’ll grow quickly. I was once the top student in school, you know, and it was the top-ranked school in the Rose Federation.”

“Hmm…” Hestia lowered her head. Compared to her sister, she did feel small and weak.

“It’s okay. We won’t ever be lonely again,” Themisia said softly as she bent down to hug Hestia.

Then, she gently rested her forehead against Hestia’s, and countless memories began flowing into Hestia’s mind—Themisia’s life, her experiences growing up, the praise of a genius, the envy of others, the mastery of high-level transcendent abilities, the intrigues she navigated, her calm and rational mind, and much more.

If Hestia accepted all of this, she would quickly grow stronger. They could understand each other completely, and Hestia knew her sister had no ill intentions—this was all for her benefit.

Yet, for some reason, a faint resistance stirred in the depths of Hestia’s heart.

This was supposed to be the best outcome, but a small corner of her heart felt heavy and sorrowful. This should have been a joyous moment—a reunion with her sister, and the promise of never being alone again.

But why…

Why?

Why?

Why!

Hestia pushed Themisia away and retreated a few steps, her sister staring at her in confusion.

“Hestia?”

“Sister.”

Hestia raised her head stubbornly.

“There’s something I’ve never told you.”

“What is it? Is it because I didn’t pay much attention to you before? Because I neglected you?”

“No, it’s not that.”

Hestia shook her head.

“You’re amazing, Sister. Outstanding. Even when you went to high school, all Mom and Dad talked about was you.”

Hestia glanced at the floor beside her.

“I could never compare to you. I was always timid, clumsy, and whenever relatives visited, I would hide.”

“I used to envy your personality so much… and hated my own weakness.”

“When I started middle school, the teachers asked us to choose a transcendent sequence to study, recommending that we specialize in one field.”

“When I was tested, the Nature Sequence was the most suitable for me, just like you. Mom also wanted me to choose the Nature Sequence.”

“But I lied. I didn’t choose the Nature Sequence. I chose the less popular Decay Sequence instead.”

“Do you know why, Sister?”

“I was terrified of being compared to you, scared of people asking how my transcendent sequence studies were going. They’d definitely say, ‘Themisia was already doing this and that in middle school.’”

“I’m a coward. Insecure and weak. I could only avoid situations like that by choosing the sequence with the fewest students. That way, if anyone asked, I could say, ‘The sequences are different, so the training methods and difficulty are different. That’s why I’m not progressing as fast.’”

“Doesn’t it sound ridiculous? All for this pointless pride.”

“But you wouldn’t understand, Sister. This was the only way I could hold onto some sense of self.”

“I didn’t want to keep being compared to you…” Hestia’s voice cracked with emotion.

“After you left, Mom soon passed away from grief. And later, Dad left us too.”

“I lived alone in the house, having nightmares at night. Sometimes, I could only sleep with the lights on because I was scared of the dark and of seeing strange things.”

“To cope with this fear, I went to the library and found a niche sequence pathway called Shadowed Visitation. It has almost no combat ability, won’t help me find a good job, or even let me compete in anything.”

“But it had one use—it granted its practitioners spectral vision, the ability to see ghosts and fragments of lingering consciousness.”

“It’s the unseen that’s frightening. But when I could see them, I felt safe. Only then could I finally sleep peacefully.”

“So, Sister,” Hestia raised her head.

“To avoid you, I’ve done everything I could.”

“And now you suddenly tell me that we should become one again? I can’t do it.”

“But if we don’t complement each other, we’ll never reach our full strength. You’re already on the brink of death, aren’t you? Without my help, you might…” Themisia said, staring at her defiant sister.

“I know.”

Hestia bit her lip.

“I know that by gaining everything from you, I could become strong. But if I do that, will I still be me? People are different, Sister. I couldn’t learn your pride and confidence before, and I don’t want to now.”

“Let me stay a coward for life. Let people call me the lonely, introverted child forever. I know these are my flaws, but I’ve grown used to them now.”

“You’ve become so stubborn, getting caught up in this kind of thinking. Stop reading all those books analyzing psychology. I studied them too, but overthinking like this only makes you hesitant and indecisive. Life is meant to be straightforward and natural,” Themisia said, reaching out to her sister again.

“No, no, no,” Hestia said, shaking her head and retreating step by step.

“We’re different, Themisia,” she addressed her sister by name for the first time.

“You naturally understand so many things and adapt easily to life’s challenges, but I’m not like that. I’m a clumsy child who’s afraid of getting hurt. I approach everything cautiously. I can only arm myself through books and knowledge. I search for the wisdom of those who came before, analyzing their reasoning and processes. Only when I understand the principles and details can I feel at ease.”

“But living like that is so exhausting and painful,” Themisia said, looking at her sister with heartfelt concern.

“Perhaps,” Hestia replied softly, “but I feel a subtle happiness when I sit alone at my desk, writing in my journal.”

“That’s because I record the day’s gains, emotions, and insights. I try to figure out solutions to problems. These little moments nourish me.”

“Now you’re telling me that all of this effort doesn’t matter—that if I accept everything from you, none of these struggles will be problems anymore. Then what was the point of it all? Doesn’t it sound ridiculous? All my tears, my hard work, and my persistence would become meaningless. If all that was for nothing, then what am I?”

“My memories, my personality, and everything about me are built on these small fragments of effort. And now you want to erase all of them. You’ve never truly accepted me, have you? Even if we merged into one, the new personality wouldn’t be led by me. Maybe for you, this means power, but for me, it feels like death.”

“I know you mean well, Sis. Maybe you have bigger hopes for the two of us in the future, but…”

“I’m sorry, Sister. I can’t agree to this.”

Hestia’s voice finally gained a firm resolve.

“It seems you’ve made up your mind,” Themisia said, watching her intently.

“You’re such a disobedient little sister.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hestia opened the door and walked out.

As Themisia watched her leave, her expression shifted multiple times, filled with a storm of emotions.

“No matter how you feel, I have my own will too, Hestia. The truth is, only one of us can wield the power of the Color-Grade Songstress.”

“If you insist on refusing, then I’ll have to exercise my authority as your elder sister to teach you a lesson.”

The quiet living room and house began to distort. Hestia looked around in surprise and quickly realized what was happening.

Turning back, she saw Themisia approaching step by step, her transcendent abilities fully activated.

Her long hair floated in the air, and stardust shimmered in her violet eyes. With a single gesture, vines burst through the walls like a swarm of serpents, wrapping around Hestia and binding her tightly, leaving her unable to move. Themisia approached her, pressing her forehead to Hestia’s once again and kissing her gently. Memories and emotions poured out once more, their souls resonating and radiating dazzling light.

Like two flawless azure and violet crystals rising in endless darkness, they began to melt and intertwine.

No!

I refuse!

In the darkness, a beam of light rose, shattering the crystal.

…

Meanwhile, in reality, Qiao Long was diving through the stagnant water in the elevator shaft, desperately searching for the girl.

“Damn, when was the last time anyone cleaned this shaft? There’s over 20 meters of water—it must reach below the 70th floor.”

Though he was annoyed about not being able to scold the girl earlier, he felt a greater guilt at the thought of her dying because of his oversight.

“I can’t believe I’m rescuing someone. No one would believe this,” he muttered, diving deeper.

Eventually, his faint flashlight illuminated her pale, unconscious face at the bottom.

“She should still be savable,” Qiao Long thought, swimming toward her.

However, as he reached out, a dazzling light erupted from her body and exploded. The entire shaft filled with radiant, shimmering crystals, lighting up the space.

Fragments of crystal grew along the walls, transforming the once-drab elevator shaft into a magical, glittering cavern.

Amid this crystalline splendor, two figures floated in midair, one bathed in violet light and the other in azure. Their faces were strikingly similar, though their eyes differed in color.

“Themisia…” the azure-eyed girl murmured.

“I had no choice, Hestia. You left me no choice,” Themisia replied, raising her hand.

Magical energy coalesced into a crimson crystal sword, which she grasped firmly.

…

As Qiao Long climbed toward the crystalline cavern, a flash of gold light streaked past him. Looking up, he saw Themisia plunge her sword through Hestia’s chest.

The crimson blade pierced her, its cursed veins spreading through her body, rendering her immobile. She fell from the sky, landing among the crystal forest below.

Themisia, her crystalline wings gleaming with a violet hue, descended like a meteor, leaving a trail of glowing violet.

On the ground, Hestia opened her eyes again. Though weak, she raised her hand, summoning azure crystals that cracked and rose like bamboo, forming a spiked forest to shield her.

The violet blade shattered the azure defenses as Themisia relentlessly advanced, closing the distance. The two clashed repeatedly, their blades sparking with magic.

The battle raged on, a dance of light and shadow as azure and violet intertwined in a fierce struggle. Each sister adapted to the other’s moves, learning and countering.

Finally, a brilliant flash separated them.

Hovering in the air, battered and bleeding, their eyes met. Despite their wounds, both were unwavering.

Courage learned to fight, and fear learned to heal.

Each had chosen their path, refusing to yield.

“Perhaps I should praise you, my dear sister,” Themisia said as she slowly rose, the blood-red crystal sword in her hand gradually fading away.

“But I wonder, how much of me have you truly learned? With just this, you can’t hope to resist me, heheh… hahahaha—”

Her figure ascended higher, and the crystalline wings on her back grew increasingly sinister, resembling elongated, violet-black butterfly wings. Their intricate patterns were as mesmerizing as they were perilous.

A deep black gown appeared, enveloping Themisia. From her voluminous black lotus sleeves, two black roses began to bloom.

The roses unfurled, their dark petals blossoming layer by layer. From their centers, jet-black crystal blades slowly extended, gleaming ominously. At the same time, a violet-black diamond gem formed at her chest, radiating a luminous glow as countless motes of magical energy gathered from the void and streamed into it.

Nature Sequence 5: Enchanted Violet Rose (Rating: Legendary Pearl-grade)

“Don’t worry, Hestia. It won’t hurt too much—it will all be over soon.” Her violet-black wings fluttered, and in an instant, she vanished into thin air.

“This—!”

Hestia darted around the air like a refracted sapphire beam, desperately trying to evade. But she couldn’t escape the sudden appearance of Themisia, who materialized behind her and thrust her blade forward. The black crystal sword pierced through Hestia’s chest, blood splattering in its wake.

The blade twisted, sending waves of agony that almost blanked out Hestia’s consciousness. The sword was yanked out violently, leaving a trail of blood spraying through the air.

Hestia’s azure crystalline wings began to dissolve as she looked up at the haloed figure above, her body plummeting downwards, the world around her spinning faster and faster.

Thud!

A violent impact shook her as she landed, coughing up blood. Her body lay limp amidst the crystalline forest.

Slowly, Themisia descended, her ominous, otherworldly wings stirring faint breezes. She stepped closer to Hestia, her sword aimed directly at her throat.

She didn’t strike immediately. She was waiting—for Hestia to yield, to bow her head.

Time ticked away, second by agonizing second. Hestia coughed blood persistently, yet stubbornly turned her face away, refusing to meet the gaze of the familiar yet estranged figure before her.

Seeing her defiance, Themisia sighed faintly and drove her blade downward.

Sssk—

Blood trickled down the blade, but it hadn’t reached Hestia’s neck. She had caught the sword in her hand. Her pale fingers were slick with blood, clutching the edge of the blade so tightly that faint cracking sounds came from her bones.

Themisia flicked her sword, tossing Hestia’s hand aside, and re-aimed it at her.

“You truly are stubborn. Do you think this will make me relent?”

“If tears would make you relent, sister, then I wouldn’t mind shedding some.”

“But you won’t. Just as I know I won’t shed tears for this anymore.” Despite the sword at her throat, Hestia struggled to her feet, leaning against a massive crystal pillar for support.

Themisia watched her sister’s labored breaths and murmured, “I won’t go easy anymore.”

With that, she lunged forward at blinding speed, driving her sword through Hestia once more.

This time, there was no resistance. Hestia didn’t evade. Her bloodied hand reached for Themisia’s shoulder, then tentatively moved toward her sister’s face, only to falter and fall limp.

“Don’t bother trying anymore,” Themisia said coldly, letting go of the sword hilt and stepping back. She watched Hestia pinned against the crystal pillar.

“I know how you narrowly escaped last time. While Decay Sequence purification formulas are effective on soul-consciousness, I’m a Sequence 5 now. My soul’s resilience isn’t something such rudimentary techniques can harm.”

“Is that so…” Hestia wanted to say more, but her strength was failing her.

Blood dripped steadily. The wound in her chest, cursed by the black crystal sword, resisted all attempts to heal.

Was I wrong all along? Was this stubbornness meaningless?

Her fading consciousness began flashing through recent memories—her time at Crystal Dream.

Belphegor, Amdusias, Botis, Forneus, Decarabia… Everyone had cared for her. They had taught her patience in life and work, helped her dress up, cooked for her. In just a few short days, she had felt a warmth she’d not experienced for a long time.

Humans are such foolish, greedy creatures. Just because we taste something sweet, we can’t let go. Just because we feel beauty, we refuse to accept death.

For the first time in ages, a childhood melody surfaced in her mind. It was from the ending theme of an old animated series. She no longer remembered the plot, but the slightly melancholic lyrics had always stayed with her.

…

“Since when… did I stop crying out loud?
Those friends who gave me headaches back then,
Do they still tease others the way they used to?

The world flips upside down~~
Rushing forward with all my strength,
Afraid of losing my way…”

…

“Breaking through the finish line to cheers,
No one holds you close to dance anymore.
The noise from the attic has finally stopped urging you on,
And the faded trophies, with their golden inscriptions,
Emit a faint, shimmering glow…”

…

Wait—what is this?!

Themisia stepped back, observing the strange phenomenon before her. Countless pale golden specks of light shimmered like fine threads around Hestia, whose figure and surroundings rippled like the surface of water.

[Space resonates like strings, time flows like melody—the symphony of the world has begun.]

Time twisted in that moment. Like a film rewinding at high speed, spilled blood rose from the ground, merging back into Hestia’s wounds. The black crystal sword embedded in her chest retreated on its own and vanished, while her torn clothing was restored to pristine condition, with no trace of the earlier chaos.

Hestia, her eyes closed, saw countless scenes flashing backward in her mind, as if her entire life were rewinding. Exams, classes, learning, walking home, shopping, cooking, sorrow, joy, writing, listening to others, watching TV—middle school, childhood…

Wait! That’s…

Suddenly, her memory froze on a specific moment from when she was ten years old. Her sister had gone off to high school, leaving her at home.

“Hestia, do you know why your mother’s hair is black?”

One summer evening, her mother asked as they strolled through the park.

“It’s because Grandma’s hair is black too,” Hestia replied earnestly and confidently.

“That’s right,” her mother chuckled, patting her on the head.

“But it’s not just that. Where do you think Grandma’s black hair came from?”

“Well… I don’t know.”

Hestia shook her head.

“It’s because our family originates from the ancient Eastern Continent. The people there all had black hair and black eyes. However, during the wars of the Fifth Epoch, there weren’t many of them left. They eventually integrated into various other nations.”

“A lot of traditions and customs were lost. Even at home, I rarely make traditional Eastern noodles anymore, and I can’t speak or write in the Eastern language. But some things have been preserved. Would you like to learn them, Hestia?”

“I… I’m afraid I won’t be able to learn. Maybe Sis can learn first and then teach me,” Hestia replied hesitantly.

“No worries. You can learn first, your sister might not need to learn it anyway.”

Her mother gave a faint, wistful smile. Themisia, after all, was attending the planet’s most prestigious school, where outdated skills like this would likely be seen as trivial.

“Actually, I don’t know much myself—just a sword technique. You can learn it to keep fit.”

“It originally came with a matching mental cultivation method and transcendent pathway secrets, but those were lost long ago,” her mother explained, making her elder daughter’s disinterest more understandable.

“Watch closely, Hestia. I’ll only show you once.”

That evening, her mother used a wooden stick to demonstrate a simple sword form—just once. Afterward, the subject was never brought up again, likely because her mother deemed it impractical.

Still, every craft has its purpose, and the faint traces left by its design hinted at the intentions of its creators. Those intricate details, magnified in the layered flow of time, became ever clearer now.

From the outline, she deduced the form. From the trajectory, she uncovered the rationale. From the move names, she reconstructed the mental cultivation framework. Countless insights layered within time unfolded, like piecing together a fragmented melody into a complete symphony.

To the outside world, only a few seconds passed, but for Hestia, it felt like years. Countless figures practicing sword techniques flashed through her mind, every move and corresponding skill finally solidifying and imprinting themselves deep in her consciousness.

It might have been something entirely new, yet its potency remained undiminished.

In an instant, the radiance dissipated, and everything returned to its original state. The two stood facing each other in the crystal-laden underground cavern.

“Though I’m unsure of the method you used, even I know that reversing time isn’t a power you can use freely,” Themisia said, staring at the black-haired, azure-eyed girl before her.

“How many more times can you pull that off, Hestia?” she asked before vanishing from sight.

Once again, Themisia appeared behind Hestia, thrusting her sword forward. But Hestia moved towards Themisia’s previous position, evading the strike.

“She’ll appear anywhere but her original position,” Hestia thought, the one certainty in her mind.

As her figure rolled through the air, Hestia’s verdant blade clashed against Themisia’s again, sending flashes of fracturing light across the cavern.

Mid-combat, Hestia stepped onto a wall, propelling herself upwards. She spread her arms like a soaring swallow. Just as Themisia prepared to exploit this apparent vulnerability, Hestia seemed to float weightlessly, rising further like a feather.

At the height of her ascent, she swung her blade. Crystals shattered around her before swiftly reforming into an ancient, elegant longsword. Its hilt was square, its blade slender and octagonal, and a turquoise tassel adorned its pommel.

Threads of magical energy materialized in the air, gathering around Hestia. Her disheveled black hair was tied back with a azure ribbon resembling a larkspur flower.

She donned a moon-white, classical Eastern dress. Its neckline, cuffs, and hem bore azure cloud patterns, interwoven with embroidered swallows in flight. The wide sleeves and flowing sashes lent her an air of regal grace.

Nature Sequence 5: Azure Bird’s Branch (Legendary Pearl-grade)

“How interesting. Where did you learn this from? Another fancy trick?”

Themisia sneered, instantly accelerating towards Hestia as a streak of black light.

Themisia’s black sword slashed like lightning, striking with thorny, crackling intensity.

Hestia closed her eyes, no longer relying on sight to track Themisia’s movements. Instead, she trusted her transcendent pathway’s intuition and rapid reflexes.

Within seconds, she exchanged dozens of blows with Themisia. Suddenly, Hestia reversed her grip, sliding her blade into its sheath.

In that fleeting instant, her azure eyes snapped open, and a brilliant, cutting arc cleaved through the air.

Azure Bird’s Legacy: Swallow Cuts the Moon!

The black crystal sword shattered, fragments scattering under Themisia’s astonished gaze. The devastating arc carved a deep, bone-revealing wound across Themisia’s torso.

The figure wrapped in violet-black butterfly wings plummeted from the sky, dodging the relentless pursuit of luminous sword slashes that trailed behind like thin, glowing streams.

The two combatants clashed midair, exchanging strikes as they spiraled toward the ground, eventually crashing into the crystalline surface, shattering it into shards.

Amid the chaos of broken crystals, Themisia rose, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth, her gaze locked onto the ever-resilient Hestia, who seemed to grow stronger with every exchange.

Once again, Themisia surged forward with lightning speed, a short black dagger materializing in her palm like a venomous stinger.

Their blades collided, producing a resounding clash as shards and shockwaves dispersed in all directions. Themisia flitted back like a butterfly in retreat, only to twist forward suddenly as Hestia pressed her pursuit.

The black dagger sliced through Hestia’s delphinium-azure hair ribbon, sending her dark hairs cascading down. A swift follow-up thrust embedded the dagger in Hestia’s back, black sigils spreading like a curse across her skin, momentarily paralyzing her.

But Themisia didn’t relent. Her blade turned in a sweeping arc toward Hestia’s neck, aiming to decapitate her in one decisive strike.

In this perilous moment, Hestia twisted her body in perfect harmony with Themisia’s blade, narrowly evading the lethal swing by the thinnest of margins.

The blade grazed past her face, severing stray strands of hair, and as she pivoted, Hestia’s legs lashed out, striking Themisia’s wrist with pinpoint precision, causing her to momentarily lose grip on her weapon.

Seizing the opportunity, Hestia’s luminous sword arced through the air, knocking Themisia’s black crystal sword from her grasp. The weapon spun away, embedding itself in the crystalline ground far off in the distance.

Themisia wasted no time, wings flaring as she soared high into the air. Hestia followed in pursuit, the two streaking through the sky like black and white comets, twisting and clashing relentlessly.

Suddenly, Themisia halted midair, her butterfly-like wings unfurling in an exquisite display. From their intricate patterns, a dark crystalline mist erupted, shooting downward like a storm of bullets.

Hestia, sensing the danger, parried the incoming barrage with her blade, deflecting the violet-black projectiles. Her caution proved justified as the shards corroded and melted anything they touched, leaving nothing but a dripping, toxic residue.

The brief reprieve allowed Themisia to prepare her next move.

High above, she tossed her black crystal sword into the air, extending her left hand. The violet crystal embedded in her wrist transformed, sprouting into thorny vines that wove together to form an elaborate bow with intricate runic patterns.

Themisia caught the descending sword, which elongated and spiraled into a deadly arrow. Streams of natural energy infused the arrow, causing it to radiate with a terrifying brilliance.

“Pierce through, Fairy Secret Art: Vortex Web Arrow!“

An invisible wind tunnel formed instantaneously, guiding the arrow in an instant. The black spiral projectile struck Hestia with devastating precision, pinning her to the ground as it pierced through her limbs.

Themisia descended slowly, her ominous presence growing as she fused her twin blades into a single, massive weapon. The wide, dark-violet sword pulsed with layered enchantments—obliteration, curses, venom, and instantaneous strikes—its surface inscribed with glowing golden filaments.

“Farewell, Hestia.”

The butterfly wings carried Themisia downward at an unhurried pace, each flap exuding an oppressive aura that left Hestia gasping for air.

Pinned to the ground, Hestia struggled against the immobilizing spiral arrow. With a final burst of effort, she freed her right hand, summoning her ancient green sword from thin air to sever the arrow pinning her.

Her gaze turned skyward. She knew there was no escape—only a desperate gamble remained.

Hestia extended her hands toward the crystalline ground, which trembled violently. A forest of radiant gemstone pillars erupted, their multicolored brilliance refracting like countless mirrors.

Exhaustion struck her like a tidal wave, nearly causing her to collapse. She realized she couldn’t use her innate abilities again without losing consciousness.

Above, Themisia descended unperturbed, slicing through the towering gemstone pillars with her immense blade, reducing them to cascading fragments.

Among the glittering debris, a shadow appeared, darting toward Themisia. She reacted instantly, slashing through it, only to find it was a mere illusion.

Hestia emerged from the opposite side, her speed blurred her visage. Without a weapon, she relied on instinct and agility, her palm striking Themisia’s sword, redirecting its trajectory.

She grabbed the sword’s hilt alongside Themisia. For a moment, the two adversaries stood locked together, their energies clashing like a storm as their intertwined fates reached a fever pitch.

The deep violet and ethereal azure energies within the enchanted sword clashed and devoured each other, locked in an unyielding struggle.

“Now you remember I’m your sister?” The violet in Themisia’s eyes blazed furiously as she glared at Hestia.

“I never forgot, sister,” Hestia retorted defiantly, her own eyes igniting with an azure magical flame.

“Foolish!” Themisia swung the massive sword with all her might, attempting to bring it down upon Hestia.

“Arrogant!” Hestia moved with the blade’s motion, colliding with Themisia yet again. Neither could free a hand as the struggle continued.

The two sisters stumbled and fought, gripping the azure and violet-imbued greatsword as they clashed from the sky to the ground and back into the air. Each swing shattered steel supports within the elevator shaft, carving gashes meters deep into the surrounding walls.

Had this battle occurred anywhere else, it would have drawn widespread attention long ago.

Their duel persisted until, minutes later, the massive sword splintered, splitting cleanly in two.

Each sister grasped a half of the broken blade, reshaping it into their familiar styles before resuming their relentless attacks.

In the shadows of the shaft, a man named Qiao Long crouched within a crack in the rock, peeking cautiously at the twin sisters locked in combat. His eyes reflected a mix of awe and disbelief.

Was this truly the level that could be attained at their age? Even the most legendary geniuses were only beginning to grasp advanced techniques at age of 16 or 17.

Qiao Long had never formally attended any academy, but his master had described the typical progress of transcendent practitioners. Reaching Sequence 4 by the age of 24 was considered a sign of great talent, often reserved for graduates of prestigious schools or heirs of major factions.

But what he witnessed now was unprecedented: two girls of 16 or 17 wielding powers bordering on Sequence 6. Their battle, initially chaotic, had grown sharper and more refined by the minute. It was as if they were compressing years of training into a single hour.

Their techniques and secrets were unparalleled. Even mastering one of them would bring fame across Arpeggio City, yet these two wielded a seemingly infinite array of moves, rarely repeating any.

What could have driven such powerful twins to a life-or-death duel, employing such reckless tactics as though their own survival was inconsequential?

The battle, for all its grandeur, was approaching its climax.

To conserve energy and magic, both sisters abandoned complex spells in favor of pure swordsmanship and martial prowess.

“Fairy Secret Art: Instant Flashlight!“

“Azure Bird’s Legacy: Snowfall Across the Boat!“

In the air, Themisia’s butterfly wings transformed into transparent fairy wings, beating once to vanish from sight. Meanwhile, Hestia’s sword spun in a flurry of silver light, scattering snowflake-like sword petals.

As Themisia thrust her blade into the snowstorm, her attack was shredded by the silver lights. The sisters clashed again, separating once more.

“Fairy Secret Art: Seven Butterfly Phantoms!“

“Azure Bird’s Legacy: Triple Branch Rend!“

Themisia’s form split into seven identical figures, each wielding a dark crystal blade, attacking from all directions. Hestia, remaining still in midair, moved her sword slowly, creating afterimages. As the seven phantoms closed in, her silver blade erupted like moonlight flooding the sky.

The first strike, a flash of silver, obliterated three phantoms in smoke.

The second strike, a crescent arc, shattered the weapons of two more.

The third strike, brilliant as a full moon, sent another figure flying into crystal dust.

The last phantom stabbed Hestia from behind, its dark blade piercing through her body. Yet Hestia, unflinching, thrust her own blade into her chest, skewering the phantom behind her.

The sisters, mortally wounded, tumbled from the sky, breaking apart just before hitting the ground.

Even as their bodies weakened and movements slowed, their blades clashed endlessly, sparks flying with each strike.

At last, both stood amid a forest of crystal spires, too drained to continue. Blood pooled around them, their magic spent, leaving their wounds to bleed freely.

“How pathetic,” Themisia muttered, releasing her bloodstained sword and leaning unsteadily against a fractured gem pillar.

For the first time, she admitted Hestia had grown to match her.

“You were too arrogant, sister,” Hestia replied weakly, slumping against a crystal shard for support.

“Ha, now you dare talk back.”

Themisia gazed upward, her violet eyes reflecting the subterranean wonderland of gemstones. The cavern shimmered with violet and azure light, a dreamlike contrast to their grim reality.

“So beautiful,” she murmured, closing her eyes as her breathing ceased.

Her body dissolved into grains of sand, her sword falling with a soft chime. Violet motes of light floated from the sand toward Hestia, who absorbed them slowly. A faint violet glimmer appeared in her other eye.

“Your feelings have reached me, sister…” Hestia whispered.

An hour later, Qiao Long cautiously descended into the crystalline forest. Picking his way through jagged spires, he found a flawless girl surrounded by jewels, seated on a lonely throne of crystal.

Her eyes, dim with sorrow, gazed down at the two swords in her arms—one emerald green, the other deep violet, near black.