Chapter 43: The Future of The Witch of Destruction? Already Destined
The two masked figures stood frozen, staring at each other in silence.
"Fine, I'll answer," Xia Feng finally relented, glancing at the corpse. "The Phantom Insect is hidden in his left chest."
Through his Demon Heart, Xia Feng could clearly sense the evil energy nearby. Earlier, the insect had been shielded by the man's aura—now exposed like a beacon.
Skritch—
Mu Qingtong's blade pierced the corpse's chest, extracting a finger-length, multicolored insect. The creature writhed silently on her sword tip, its jagged teeth gnashing. A single blood-red pupil bulged from its midsection, staring at her in terror.
"A rare subspecies of Illusion-class," she observed, offering the blade. "Its blood contains water-aligned spiritual energy—usable for second-level advancement. Do you want it?"
Spiritualists needed specific materials to advance: for Xia Feng's water alignment, it required Phantom Insect blood among other components.
"No, you take it," he waved dismissively. "You did the work."
Mu Qingtong nodded, assuming he'd already secured his materials. I'll need to accelerate my own collection, she noted, moving toward the unconscious girl.
Placing a hand on the girl's forehead, the dark-stone bracelet on Mu Qingtong's wrist glowed faintly red.
"Evil Energy reading: 58Aoc. Two short of becoming fully cursed. Pity." She stood.
Xia Feng blinked. "Pity?"
Before he could react, Mu Qingtong's blade flashed toward the girl's throat!
Xia Feng seized her wrist. "Are you insane?!"
Mu Qingtong tilted her head. "Is there a problem?"
"You were about to murder her!"
"Obviously." Her tone was clinical. "Even if substandard, evil souls make excellent materials."
Xia Feng's grip tightened. In this moment, he truly grasped the depth of Mu Qingtong's nature—why history would brand her the Witch of Destruction.
Raised in ruthlessness, gifted with monstrous talent, she saw lives as variables in an equation. And for his own survival, he couldn't let that stand.
In this broken world where basic decency passed for sainthood, maybe he'd play saint just this once.
More crucially—Mu Qingtong's future was pivotal. Would she become a mindless destroyer? Or something more? Perhaps that trajectory hinged on now.
(And frankly, syncing with a genocidal maniac sounded exhausting.)
But how to reshape her worldview? Imposing morals felt hypocritical—yet doing nothing felt worse.
As Xia Feng wrestled with this, Mu Qingtong studied his disapproval. To her, the crowds below were insects—interchangeable, insignificant.
Yet here stood Xia Feng, a fellow predator, judging her.
"What do you want the soul for?" he demanded.
"Experiments."
"To what end?"
"To grow stronger."
Xia Feng's lips curled. Time for theatrics.
"Pathetic," he sneered, removing his mask. "Mu Qingtong, you disappoint me."
Silence.
No one had dared say this to her. Her golden eyes locked onto his as she unmasked. "Explain."
"You have a conqueror's gifts—but a coward's mindset. How embarrassing." He shook his head, layering scorn into every syllable. "I mistook you for a genius. You're just lucky."
Mu Qingtong's breath hitched. Coming from others, this would merit indifference—but Xia Feng earned the right to critique.
"Mediocre?" Her voice chilled. "Killing the weak makes me so?"
"Obviously."
"Cowards draw blades on the innocent. The truly strong?" He leaned in, deadpan. "Mu Qingtong, only a cowardly and mediocre person like you will do anything to become stronger and bully those unarmed innocent people. It's really, really disappointing."
The words struck deeper than any blade. Disappointing. The echo of it coiled around her thoughts.
Not acting. Not manipulating. Genuine disdain.
Her grip on the knife faltered.
Xia Feng held his cold stare, internally panicking. This gamble could backfire spectacularly—
Snick.
The blade withdrew.
"Mr. Xia," Mu Qingtong mused, sheathing her weapon, "you possess an empathy foreign to me. Perhaps this is why we are of the same kind—yet fundamentally unalike."
Same kind? Xia Feng barely masked his confusion. What does same kind mean? But as she spared the girl, relief flooded him.
For now, crisis averted.
Yet as he watched her walk away, Xia Feng had a feeling in his heart that maybe Mu Qingtong would become the future of the Witch of Destruction?
It was already destined.
(End of Chapter)