Chapter 275 — The Alluring Witch (Part 3)
For days now, her father's cold, lifeless face had haunted Jenny's dreams.
She had been secretly investigating the truth behind his death, and the more she learned about the Voodoo Coven, the more hopeless revenge seemed.
Their leader—Marie Laveau—
Had already been at the top over a century ago… and still held her position today.
That alone proved she possessed terrifying life-preserving witchcraft.
A century of accumulated power—
Was something no novice witch could ever hope to rival.
So Jenny had no choice but to place her hopes on the combined ritual.
But now—
That witch had been injured.
Suppressing her emotions, Jenny asked calmly:
"How badly was she hurt? Where is she now?"
"I heard she's in a bar in the East District," Quentin replied thoughtfully.
"As for her injuries, I'm not sure. But the Voodoo Coven has been recalling their people lately."
She glanced at Jenny.
"You know her?"
"With the academy's relationship with them… you'd better keep your distance."
Conflicts between the academy and the Voodoo Coven were nothing new.
Casualties happened often.
Jenny's father's death—
Wouldn't attract much attention.
Unless someone was deliberately looking.
"No… I was just curious," Jenny forced a faint smile.
"If that's the case, Ms. Fiona should drive them out of New Orleans, right?"
"That won't be easy," Quentin said.
"Right now, the Headmistress is focused entirely on the ritual."
"At this rate, we might even be confined to the academy soon."
Jenny lowered her gaze.
Recently, the Church had suddenly tightened its forces across North America, causing widespread concern among supernatural organizations.
Most people didn't know why—
But through Fiona, Jenny had heard fragments of the truth.
The Church had discovered a passage—
Possibly leading to an unknown realm.
Given the significance of such a place, they were likely preparing something major.
And the Rosicrucian Order—
Having just openly opposed the Church—
Had activated the combined witchcraft plan as a countermeasure.
The training intensity had been increasing day by day.
Jenny could feel the pressure mounting.
Quentin's guess…
Was probably right.
"Anyway, these things aren't for us to worry about," Jenny said, smiling.
She took Quentin's hand lightly.
"You still have to sort the materials, right? You should go—Ms. Fox will scold you otherwise."
As a primary witch, Jenny only needed to focus on training.
Everything else—food, chores, logistics—was handled by others.
Assistants, however—
Were different.
They worked tirelessly, handling countless mundane tasks just to remain at the academy.
Not long ago, they had all been equals.
Now—
They stood on opposite sides.
The chosen were admired.
The rest—
Served.
But the positions weren't final.
Until the ritual began, assistants still had a chance to rise.
"Are you sure you don't need help?" Quentin asked, tilting her head.
"You've got a lot left. You might not finish before dinner."
"I'll be fine," Jenny insisted, pushing her toward the door.
"Go on!"
"…Alright. Good luck."
Quentin left.
But out of Jenny's sight—
A faint smile curled at the corner of Quentin's lips.
Back in the room, Jenny stood before the mirror.
The temporary aging caused by magic exhaustion had finally faded.
Though the remaining workload was heavy—
She could still finish it.
But if she left now…
A trace of determination flashed in her eyes.
She picked up a silver container and quickly set up several defensive spells around the room.
Then—
She placed her hand on the lid.
"There are many witches more suitable than me…"
"If I get replaced…"
Her fingers tightened.
"…This might be my only chance."
A surge of dark energy flooded the room.
Jenny's heart sank.
"This… isn't high-purity material. Why is the corruption so strong?"
She staggered.
"I… can't…"
But she gritted her teeth.
Letting the darkness consume her.
Black veins spread across her pale skin.
"Ah—!"
She collapsed to her knees, clawing at the wooden floor, leaving deep scratches.
Her nails snapped off, scattering across the ground.
Her eyes turned pitch black.
Then—
A glow burst from her chest.
A wave of holy power surged outward, instantly burning away the darkness.
"Ha… ha…"
Jenny gasped, drenched in sweat.
"You saved me again…"
She held the silver cross tightly.
But now—
It had lost its luster.
Its power was gone.
After a moment's hesitation, she tucked it back into her collar.
Then forced herself to continue training.
Academy Garden — First Floor
Quentin frowned deeply.
"…It didn't work?"
Just then—
She spotted a figure slipping out through the side entrance.
Even with the wide-brimmed hat obscuring her face—
Quentin recognized her instantly.
Jenny.
Quentin tossed the herbs in her hand into a basin—
And followed.
Third Floor — By the Window
Smoke drifted into the air.
A short-haired blonde woman stood by the window, cigarette between her fingers.
Her black dress clung to her figure, accentuating her curves. Pale thighs flickered beneath the hem.
Though her face bore wrinkles—
Her aura was unmistakably regal.
Fiona watched the two girls leave.
Footsteps approached.
A butler stood beside her, holding a silver container.
Fiona glanced at it.
"A contaminated material mixed with toxic mist… hmph."
"They're trying to get someone killed."
The butler gestured silently.
Should we capture her?
"We do need to capture someone," Fiona said calmly.
After a brief pause, she added:
"Call the Rosicrucian Council."
"Tell them Mr. Grey, the one in charge of materials, has been harassing witches and embezzling supplies."
"We have evidence."
The butler froze.
Then gestured again:
But Grey is connected to Augustus of the Witch Council… we still need their support—
Fiona snorted.
"If not for the ritual, I wouldn't have let that scum in here at all."
She exhaled slowly.
"He's slept with enough witches."
"His son's forbidden materials should be more than enough by now."
"If he keeps ruining my girls…"
"What's left for the ritual?"
The butler bowed.
Understood.
After he left, Fiona raised her hand.
A glowing orb appeared.
Inside it—
A map.
Many points were marked—
But only three still shone brightly.
The rest had dimmed.
"We're close…"
Her eyes turned cold.
"To finding the true location of the passage."
"The Church… the next Supreme Witch…"
She smirked.
"No one replaces me."
The Bar
Gideon had been waiting for quite some time.
Nothing unusual.
Just as he was about to leave—
A figure appeared in the corridor.
A woman in a wide-brimmed hat.
Her face hidden.
Only the faint curve of her chest gave away her gender.
She checked Gideon's private room—
Empty.
Then moved to the room across the hall.
The bartender hadn't come near the corridor once.
It was as if—
Gideon himself had been forgotten.
The woman leaned against the window, peeking inside.
From Gideon's perspective—
He could see a woman named Dennis sitting inside.
The table was filled with bottles and potions.
Dennis clearly noticed something.
Yet—
She showed no caution.
"…Seriously?" Gideon muttered.
"She's just going to act without checking first?"
The cloaked figure pulled out a bracelet.
It emitted a faint magical pulse.
"…That looks familiar," Gideon narrowed his eyes.
Just then—
Another figure appeared.
Also dressed in black—
But her face uncovered.
Beautiful.
Striking.
Even Gideon glanced twice.
"Same outfit, all attractive… do these witches realize how obvious they look?" he muttered.
The second girl grabbed the first's wrist.
The hat fell—
"…Oh. It's her."
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
"Quen—mmph!"
Jenny was cut off as Quentin covered her mouth and dragged her inside.
"Bang!"
Jenny hit the floor hard.
She looked up, stunned.
"I thought a pure-blood witch would be harder to deal with," Dennis said, standing up lazily.
"All that preparation… wasted."
"Leave," Quentin said coldly.
Dennis hesitated—
Then backed down.
"Hmph. I'll handle the guy outside."
"You were definitely seen coming in."
She swayed her hips as she left.
Jenny looked up, confused.
"What's going on… Quentin, you—"
Smack!
A sharp slap echoed through the room.
Jenny clutched her cheek, disbelief filling her eyes.
"Bitch."
Quentin kicked her in the shoulder.
A dark footprint stained Jenny's uniform.
"You think having a dead mother as backing makes you worthy of becoming a primary witch?"
Quentin grabbed Jenny by the hair and slapped her again.
A streak of blood quickly trickled down from the corner of Jenny's mouth.
Gideon frowned slightly—but chose to wait a moment longer.
"What have you ever sacrificed to enter this academy?!" Quentin's voice suddenly rose.
"Have you ever been stared at like a monster?"
"Have you ever let men touch your body just to get a batch of low-quality materials?"
"Have you ever burned your own life force just to practice witchcraft?!"
"You've done none of that! You're nothing but a bitch who climbed up here through connections!"
Quentin spat at her.
Jenny struggled to speak, her voice trembling.
"I… I never thought that way… I can… give you the position of main witch…"
"You think I need your charity?" Quentin sneered.
"You hypocrite. Do you think Fiona would let you take that position for no reason?"
"For the combined ritual, the 'Time Witchcraft' role requires a main witch with powerful restoration abilities."
"I can cast those spells in my sleep."
"But just because you were born with that ability… that idiot woman chose you instead."
Jenny shook her head in panic.
"You… you misunderstand. I can only heal…"
"Crash!"
Quentin clenched her hand.
The mirror in the room shattered instantly.
"Use your power!"
Jenny hesitated, then slowly raised her hand.
A faint green glow appeared in her palm.
And then—
Something unexpected happened.
The shattered glass fragments on the floor began to tremble.
They lifted into the air, then rapidly reassembled within the mirror frame—
In the blink of an eye, the mirror was restored to its original state.
Jenny's eyes widened.
She had never done this before.
"Reversing time on objects…" Quentin gritted her teeth.
"And this kind of ability ended up in your hands…"
"But that ends now."
The moment she finished speaking, she began chanting.
Jenny suddenly found herself unable to move.
The floorboards creaked and shifted.
One by one, skeletons crawled out from beneath them—
Accompanied by a surge of dense, sinister energy.
"Evil energy corrupts the bloodline," Quentin said coldly, eyes filled with malice.
"Take that tainted body of yours and go to hell—go see your whore of a mother!"
With a flick of her hand, she commanded the skeletons to lunge at Jenny.
But the next moment—
She frowned.
The skeletons had stopped.
Frozen in place.
No longer under her control.
"How is this possible?!"
Before she could react—
A figure appeared in the room.
At the same time, the surrounding evil aura was drawn inward, sinking into the skeletons.
"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!"
Quentin immediately took a defensive stance, shock flashing in her eyes.
The magical barrier surrounding the room was powerful enough to rival high-tier witchcraft.
Even Fiona herself wouldn't be able to slip in silently.
Yet this man—
Had done exactly that.
Jenny also looked up.
Standing before her was a man in casual clothes, his face obscured by a piece of black cloth.
She couldn't see his features.
"Compared to that Miss Denise outside," Gideon said calmly, deliberately altering his voice,
"your combat awareness is… amateur at best."
"What did you just say?" Quentin's expression darkened.
"Your partner at least knew to set up defenses beforehand."
"But you walked in here straight from a bar like you owned the place."
Gideon let out a faint chuckle.
"If news breaks tomorrow that this girl is dead…"
"Do you really think you'll get away with it?"
"Concealing your tracks beforehand. Cleaning up afterward."
"That's basic procedure for killing someone."
Jenny, still on the ground, froze.
"…Wait… isn't he here to save me?" she thought, confused.
Quentin was equally caught off guard.
She clenched her fists, then let out a cold snort.
"…Next time, I'll keep that in mind."
"And another thing," Gideon continued.
"Your accusations against her are laughable."
"You know full well the decision lies with Fiona."
"Yet you only dare to target your fellow student."
"Or what? You don't have the courage to confront your own headmistress?"
"Bang! Bang!"
The objects in the room suddenly fell to the ground.
"You…" Quentin stared at him with a venomous gaze.
"You came here just to lecture me?"
"If that's the case—"
"You picked the wrong person."
A cabinet suddenly collapsed.
With cracking sounds, it began to cave inward, splinters scattering across the floor.
But Gideon remained unmoved, as if he hadn't seen a thing.
"I'm just here to speak a bit of truth."
"And… ask you a few questions."
Quentin let out a cold laugh.
"You want to interrogate me?"
"Do you even know who I am?"
Gideon shook his head.
"No."
Then he smiled faintly.
"But if I beat you up first…"
"You'll probably tell me yourself."