Chapter 42 The door he pushed open wasn't his woman, it was his leading lady...

Heinrich has disappeared.

Lilith woke up with a start; it was already dark. Although she had taken painkillers and the stomach pain had eased somewhat, her forehead finally succumbed to the chill from the rain and she began to feverish. She forced herself out of bed and heard the incessant rain outside the window. Lightning illuminated the entire sky, quickly disappearing back into darkness, followed by a deafening roar of thunder.

She took out a flint and steel and lit the candle on the bedside table. She opened Heinrich's door and found the room pitch black; the blankets were scattered haphazardly on the bed, and the sheets were creased and crumpled. She looked around but found no note or scrap of paper left by Heinrich.

Where is Heinrich? Were his previous statements sincere promises or mere lies?

A sense of unease welled up in Lilith's chest, uncontrollably churning her buzzing, aching brain. Lilith suddenly realized she knew almost nothing about Heinrich's past. She hadn't cared before. When she bought the guy, she'd treated it like a nice-looking disposable dagger—use it and be done with it, convenient and quick.

But Heinrich was not what she had initially imagined. Clearly, he was no ordinary slave; he possessed a sharper mind, a stronger physique, and exceptional refinement than most. He mastered banking operations faster and more efficiently than any other slave she had ever bought, not to mention his impeccable ability to adapt to crises.

These qualities surprised and delighted Lilith. Sharing life-and-death experiences with him also earned him Lilith's trust. However, she felt uneasy from time to time when she remembered that he was not just a simple slave whose nature could be seen through at a glance.

A servant capable of independent action needs to be given appropriate freedom to maximize their value, but for Lilith, this meant losing absolute control. She had to force Heinrich to compensate her in other ways, even though she knew it might be somewhat cruel, but she could only feel at ease when she saw him kneeling at her feet, begging for her in a daze.

But is this true peace of mind? Or is she, like Isolde, simply indulging in self-indulgent fantasies she has created?

No, they're not the same, of course they're not the same.

To Lilith, Heinrich was a slave, a pet, a tool at her beck and call. Her desire to control him was like a knight's grip on his sword. This was not about love, but a mission of self-realization, fundamentally different from Isolde's motivations.

She didn't want to let him go, didn't want to hand him over to Isolde, because she saw the future growth potential of this human resource investment and anticipated that he could bring her immeasurable value in the future. Even a compassionate priest wouldn't give a golden cross to a homeless beggar, so how could she, as a banker, easily hand over her most promising asset?

Lilith has also experienced loneliness, passivity, and helplessness, but she is not alone now. She has respected elders, close friends, and trusted subordinates. Even if she were alone, she would never place her hopes for self-salvation on the ridiculous concept of "love."

Love? What is love? She found both the romantic stories depicted in dramas and the perfect couples praised in high society laughable. When someone hasn't even figured out who they are, yet eagerly follows their bodily instincts to unite with another, to procreate offspring they know nothing about raising, and then describes this headless, accidental relationship as supreme—isn't that ridiculous?

Perhaps this is why Lilith wanted to shatter Isolde's illusions. Isolde was elegant, kind, and hospitable; beneath her beautiful exterior lay an exciting eeriness and hypocrisy, harboring unknown fruits of evil—this made Lilith feel that perhaps they were kindred spirits, using what society considered evil to fight against the world that oppressed them. She was almost certain that Isolde didn't love the real Tristan, but rather a vague concept. What exactly was wrapped in that soft, fragile bubble? This was the answer Lilith wanted to know.

Unable to solve the mystery through mere imagination, Lilith had no choice but to raise the candlestick and wander alone through the dark castle.

She tentatively called out Isolde and Heinrich's names, but there was no response. Despite the eerie atmosphere of the seemingly bottomless corridors, this was the perfect opportunity for Lilith to explore the secrets of the ancient castle.

She dragged her weary body and pushed open the first door. She found herself in the drawing room where she had been led to meet the day before. Count Alta, in a huge portrait, was scrutinizing her with a furious expression, his wide-open eyes seeming to want to throw this ill-intentioned outsider out. Lilith closed the door and continued down the corridor.

She opened another door with the same decoration and entered a similar reception room, only this time the floor was covered in dust, as if it hadn't been used in a long time. The bookshelves on the walls were overflowing with books, some even spilling onto the floor, with only a few empty shelves on the top shelf. Lilith couldn't read the writing and could only silently marvel at Count Alta's wealth. Parchment books were very valuable; such a large collection, if well-preserved, could fetch hundreds or even thousands of ducats from secondhand booksellers. Yet, there was still no one there.

Lilith ascended the spiral staircase to the next floor. The candlesticks, adorned with crystal pendants, were covered in cobwebs and dust. She opened the first door on her left and found herself on a semi-open balcony connecting to the castle terrace. Inside, various exotic flowers and herbs she had never seen before were planted, along with half-dried herb baskets. Was this the source of the witch's potion-making materials? These herbs possessed a hidden fragrance; if she invested in cultivating them on a large scale and turning them into high-end perfumes, would they capture the hearts of upper-class women and persuade them to buy them?

Lilith grew increasingly curious, opening door after door. Perhaps because only Isolde and her maid lived in the entire castle, none of the doors were locked. Lilith was able to glimpse Isolde's world in this dishonorable way. She increasingly wanted to sit down and have a proper talk with this witch, until she climbed the tower step by step and opened a room filled with the scent of potions.

Unlike the previous rooms, this one wasn't pitch black; candlelight flickered from the high-hanging candlesticks on the ceiling. Could Isolde and Heinrich be here? She slowly walked in and saw several glass bottles of varying sizes on a wooden shelf, filled with a jelly-like liquid. A pinkish-white, fleshy substance floated within the jelly. Lilith leaned closer to look and saw it was a human male fetus, about the size of a palm.

Lilith had never seen a fetal corpse like this before, and she nearly knocked over her candlestick in shock. She recalled the ancient legend mentioned by Dante, the Padua translator: witches hated humans and cruelly devoured newborn infants, even unborn children. Was Isolde really a witch? What did she want?

Lilith was about to turn and leave immediately when she suddenly realized someone was singing not far away. It was a low, somewhat hoarse female voice, singing a strangely melodious song in a language Lilith couldn't understand. After a while, she realized it was Isolde speaking without deliberately straining her voice.

Lilith hesitated for a moment, then decided to continue forward, both frightened and curious. Through a gap in the heavy curtain, she saw a huge magic circle drawn in blood-red ink on the floor of the inner room. Isolde, with her white hair disheveled, was chanting incantations beside the circle, while Heinrich lay in the center of it with his eyes closed. His mouth was slightly open, as if he had fallen into a coma.

Lilith held her breath. An irrational emotion, an instinctive impulse, shoved her hard, pushing her aside the curtain and running inside. Before she even realized why she was doing this, she had already spread her arms and stood between Isolde and Heinrich.

"What are you doing here?" Isolde glared angrily. "What do you want to do!"

“I should be asking you that,” Lilith said, her hair loose. Though still dressed in men’s clothing, she had given up on pretending to be male and asked in her own voice, “What are you doing to Heinrich?”

“I didn’t intend to harm you; I planned to let you leave the forest alive.” Isolde no longer feigned her voice. “But since you barged in and witnessed everything, I have no choice but to…”

“Isolde,” Lilith suddenly extended her right hand to her. “My real name is Liliana Knarro, and I am a banker from Venice. I was once accused of being a witch, so I want to be your friend.”

"Friends...? I don't need friends. As long as Tristan comes back... I'll never be alone again. You really are his woman; you just wanted to take me away from him!"

“You’re wrong. I am his mistress. He is a slave I bought to work for me.” Lilith approached Isolde step by step, standing in front of her and looking down at her. “You know in your heart that he is not your Tristan. You don’t understand what kind of man he is at all, and you will not find happiness with him.”

"How would you know if you don't try? If you hadn't barged in and ruined my magic, the soul-summoning ritual would have been completed and Tristan would have returned to my side!"

“Alright.” Lilith paused, then turned and left. “You can continue.”

"Hey!" Isolde called out to her, frozen in place. "What exactly do you want?"

“Only by trying will you know if your magic will succeed, right?” Lilith said confidently. “Go on, I won’t bother you. Because I don’t believe your magic can come true.”

"What?"

“You must have already cast your spell on him once before I arrived,” Lilith said, glancing at the potion Isolde had placed next to the magic circle.

“Yes, so he remembered, he is Tristan! A part of his soul has already taken up residence there, all it takes is one more time…”

“Wrong. That was just Heinrich putting on an act for you. The reason you were fooled by such a clumsy technique is because you were blinded by your own illusions.”

“I don’t care at all! So what if it’s fake? Even if it’s fake, it’s better than nothing at all…” Isolde shouted hysterically.

Lilith suddenly opened her arms and hugged Isolde in her arms.

“But you don’t need to do that at all. Because your magic is actually very powerful, you are a very good witch. The painkiller you gave me cured my menstrual cramps and helped me a lot.”

"That's the culmination of my many years of research into potions..."

“So I think you’re amazing.” Lilith looked directly into Isolde’s still furious, bloodshot eyes. “Your achievements don’t need the endorsement of men, and your loneliness doesn’t need the fantasy of love to alleviate it. The hypocritical Tristan is not worthy of the real Isolde.”

“But you don’t really know the real me at all.” Isolde suddenly revealed a strange and contemptuous smile. “A witch is more skilled at making poisons that kill without leaving a trace than at crafting painkillers.”

“Yes, I know, that’s why I’m so interested in you.” Lilith returned an excited smile, her eyes shining. “That child in the glass jar, that’s your child with Count Altah, isn’t it? You aborted your own child, then plotted to kill your husband, dismissed his servants, and then lived alone in this castle waiting for your lover, didn’t you?”

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Author's Note: This is the penultimate chapter of the Witch arc, which is a nice break for Lilith and the others. We'll have to go on a business trip again soon >_< But even more exciting things will happen during the trip! (rubbing hands)

This week I'm in Hongtu, so there will only be four updates. The next update will be on Sunday.