Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 166: “I’ve Found My Happiness”

Within the imperial palace, teams of Court Beastmasters entered in waves, methodically cleaning up the scene of devastation, and sweeping away the betrayers who had already been reduced to ashes by the black flames Summer released.

One Beastmaster even summoned an Undead-type pet: the Lich King.

The withered creature extended a bony hand, fingers wrapped in a faint green glow, and cast a necromantic skill—“Remnant Perception”—upon the pale ashes scattered across the palace floor.

Using this skill, it sifted through the mingled remains to identify the owners of the ashes. Then, with psychic power unique to undead creatures, it carefully sorted the ashes into separate piles, one for each individual.

“This pile belongs to a roughly forty-year-old Tier-Five Beastmaster… bald, about 1.9 meters tall...”

The Beastmaster of the Lich King closed his eyes and described the appearance of the deceased based on the mental images passed through their soul contract.

“Zijin Family, Elder Bright.”

Someone quickly cross-referenced the banquet guest list and confirmed the match. The Lich King then used telekinesis to gently deposit the ashes into a funerary urn held by one of the Black Vulture Guards.

“Send this to the Zijin Family. Just tell them the banquet was attacked by a cult, and this was all we recovered.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to ask them to cover the cremation fee.”

“Understood.”

The Black Vulture Guard nodded firmly and departed with the urn.

——

What kind of hellish joke was this?

As Queen Isadella’s confidante, Diresse stood at the scene directing the cleanup, and this bizarre, absurd thought popped unbidden into her mind.

She couldn’t help it. It seemed that everyone who spent time around Summer eventually picked up this bad habit of using weird new slang.

“Looks like the empire’s finally stabilized.”

She watched the squadrons of Black Vulture Guards fanning out across the imperial capital.

The relationship between the royal family and the noble houses—especially the Eight Oathbound Houses—had always been complicated. These were ancient families enshrined in the empire’s crest since its founding.

Unless caught red-handed, the royal family—even with the upper hand—couldn’t just outright target them.

Take the Borgia affair, for instance. The royal retaliation was aimed specifically at the Borgia family;the other noble houses who’d stayed on the fence were left untouched.

But this time, the connection between the cultists and several major noble houses had already been secretly confirmed, and the evidence was solid.

Everyone knew—it was a gamble.

If the cults succeeded and managed to take down a Throne-tier Beastmaster wielding the Sacred Sword, they’d be free to carve up the empire’s remains, perhaps even establish new nations or prop up a puppet ruler.

But if they lost, they’d lose everything.

Even if the royal family spared them in the name of stability, they’d still be stripped of all power.

And now, the outcome was clear.

But Diresse, despite being on the winning side, felt no joy—only silence and unease.

She hadn’t forgotten what Summer had said before leaving.

He’d chosen to let the gods descend, only to defeat them afterward.

That was a true godly descent, vessels imbued with divine essence from the real gods themselves…

One misstep, and what awaited Summer would be total annihilation.

——

Then suddenly—

Her eyes widened.

“...A meteor shower?”

A strange sensation tugged at her heart. She turned toward the night sky outside the window.

Streak after streak of radiant starlight tore across the darkness, illuminating the heavens above the capital.

Stars fell like rain.

As the last of her kind—the royal line of Abyssal Succubi—Diresse had inherited vast knowledge.

An entire race’s cultural memory and arcane archives.

Even secrets buried beneath the dust of ancient eras, from the time when gods still walked the earth—she knew them well.

According to the ancient texts—

Every falling star signified the death of a mythical being.

Their shattered divine essence would fall from the sky like fragments of the Holy Grail.

But that golden age—when saints and demigods roamed the world—was nearly ten thousand years past.

In this current age, even demigods had faded into obscurity.

And stars, once heralds of gods’ fall, hadn’t been seen in centuries.

Until now.

The one responsible for this rain of stars—

Was none other than Summer.

——

And not just Diresse.

Across the entire Western Continent, countless people lifted their heads to witness the starlight tumbling down from the far end of the firmament.

To the common folk, unaware of deeper truths, it was simply a wondrous celestial sight.

But to those well-versed in mysticism, its meaning was entirely different.

The fall of stars.

The elegy of the divine.

Each descending star marked the death of one who had stepped into the Divine Domain—whether they were semi-divine avatars or partial godly vessels.

And now, so many had fallen all at once.

When combined with the recent unrest in the imperial capital, the surge of activity among cults in the Lost Domain…

“Is the Freista Empire… truly on the cusp of revival?”

“Just like the era of the Knight King once more?”

Silent Forest.

Wearing a layered yet elegantly simple black gown, Augustina suddenly looked up, her gaze directed south—toward the continent’s most prosperous nation: the Freista Empire.

“So you’re back, huh?”

In her crimson-gold eyes, the meteor shower that lit the night sky reflected like a river of stars.

Even though the Silent Forest was separated from the Freista Empire by the vast Grant Sea, Augustina spoke as if she had personally witnessed the scene.

“You’ve only just returned, and already stirred up this much chaos.”

“Still the same, always showing off in public like some divine prodigy.”

Her words paused. Then the corners of her lips curled ever so slightly.

“But then again… if you weren’t like this, you’d never be worthy of being my Dragon Knight, would you?”

Empire outskirts.

“Why are you shaking?”

“Do I look that terrifying?”

Standing just beyond the capital, Summer also lifted his gaze slightly, catching sight of the falling meteors.

Honestly, he hadn’t even realized that killing off a few godly avatars came with such flashy kill effects.

But it worked out nicely—especially now that he was trying to persuade through virtue, or more accurately, intimidate a snake into submission.

So having such an epic backdrop only helped his case.

He had to admit: props to the effects department—they deserved a bonus.

“Look at that…”

“Aren’t the falling stars beautiful?”

Summer continued gently stroking the silver serpent’s head.

“I just want to have a nice little chat. Ask you a couple of things.”

“You wouldn’t want to become one of those falling stars, right?”

“Guh… just kill me…”

The water-silver serpent flinched again, trembling more than before, still repeating the same words.

Which left Summer feeling a little exasperated.

He was genuinely curious about this snake.

After all, though he’d fought plenty of real gods before, it had always been in direct opposition.

Those Abyssal Gods all had the same MO—seeing him was like seeing the guy who killed their entire bloodline. They attacked on sight, no questions asked.

He’d never had the chance to learn any divine-era secrets from them.

But this serpent—this one was different.

It didn’t seem crazy. It wasn’t spouting hatred. It actually seemed… relatively sane. Probably even from the Order side.

So naturally, Summer wanted to milk it for all it was worth.

Only problem was… it kept repeating the same line—"Kill me."

Which, frankly, Summer didn’t buy for a second.

No way these divine-tier beings were truly unafraid of death. If that were true, it wouldn’t have survived since the First Era.

More likely, even if he killed its body, it had contingencies—some way to be reborn or restored.

After all, while most true gods were still trapped in the Astral Realm, struggling just to send down a sliver of power through cult rituals...

This one had descended into the Material Plane with its true form, aided by a handful of under-leveled angelic bloodline descendants.

Clearly, it had some special tricks.

Unfortunately, its weaknesses weren’t obvious.

But that was fine—he might not know, but there was someone who would.

No—something.

If A Cup didn’t know, worst case, he’d go ask his teacher.

After all, when the Crimson Moon had seen her, it had basically shriveled into a trembling mess. Clearly, Miss Gold Elf Scholar was these divine freaks’ natural enemy.

He wondered if Hathaway's name had the power to make even infant mythic creatures shut up and behave.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he heard footsteps behind him.

High heels tapped softly against the cracked tiles as someone walked toward him.

“Done already?”

A cool, clear voice rang in his ear.

“Yeah.”

Summer nodded, slipping the silver snake into his spatial pouch and turning to look at the silver-haired Empress.

“Still as reliable as ever.”

Isadella raised a delicate hand, brushing aside wind-tossed strands of silver hair, lips curved in a faint smile.

Unlike the anxious Diresse—or the noble families who swayed like reeds in the wind, forever dancing between loyalty and betrayal—

Isadella had never once doubted Summer’s victory.

Even if such belief seemed irrational and illogical.

Still, in her heart, she had always believed—

Ever since the day Summer stood before her beneath the Blood Moon in Camelot…

No matter the time that passed…

He never changed.

Isadella stretched lazily, the curve of her body tracing smoothly beneath the dark lines of her military uniform.

As the Second Princess of the Empire, Isadella had borne the weight of countless expectations from the moment her talent as a Beastmaster was first discovered.

Her supporters hoped she would become an outstanding Empress—one who would lead the Empire to greatness once more.

Her opponents, meanwhile, spent day after day, year after year, scrutinizing her every move, every word—searching for the tiniest crack, any flaw they could exploit to deliver a fatal political blow.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

So to meet these expectations, Isadella had always held herself to the strictest of standards.

While other noble girls spent their youth clustered together gossiping about skirt trends and the latest romance novels from the Royal Book Club, Isadella was already walking through the military command, oversight bureaus, and adventurers’ guilds, enduring the harshest of imperial education.

Where her peers clung to teddy bears, flowers, and frilly dresses—she only ever clutched frigid war reports and the cold hilt of a training sword.

She gave up the carefree life of poetry and springtime dreams.

Gave up love and romance.

She didn’t even have the kind of close confidante most girls her age would.

Because the so-called “ideal ruler” her father and ministers dreamed of—wasn’t allowed to have emotional weaknesses like relying on others.

But now, looking back—

Isadella’s gaze shifted slightly.

Falling upon the black-haired, black-eyed young man standing just ahead of her.

And in that moment—buried memories surged to the surface, washing over her like a tide.

They were old memories. Very old.

So old that her mother hadn’t yet passed away. So old that she herself was still just a carefree little girl of seven or eight, living inside the palace walls.

She could vaguely recall her mother’s face, though it had blurred with time.

The woman had held little Isadella in her arms, sitting gently on a creaky swing in the palace garden, swaying softly.

“Your mental aptitude test results are back. Exceptionally high,”

“You’ve broken royal records, you know? They say your gift could rival even that of the Knight King who founded the Empire.”

“Your father and the ministers are thrilled. The Dean of the Beastmaster Academy even wants to raise a perfect black-scaled subdragon from birth just for you, to be your partner when you reach the legendary tier.”

“But… as your mother, I don’t want that.”

“I just want you to grow up safe and happy…”

“And if—someday—you find yourself trapped in danger or drowning in the mud, I hope there’ll be someone…”

“Someone who’ll reach in, take your hand, and pull you out of the abyss.”

“That’s how your father won me over, you know—he saved me from a band of mountain bandits.”

“That was when I fell in love with him. That’s how we ended up together.”

“That was the happiest choice I ever made.”

“Even though marrying into the royal family meant stepping into the heart of power and schemes, always walking on a knife’s edge, watching for assassins and betrayal…”

“I’ve never once regretted it.”

Her mother had smiled softly, gently patting young Isadella’s head.

“One day, little Isa…”

“I hope you find a happiness of your own.”

My own… happiness?

Back then, Mother, I didn’t really understand what you meant…

“But I think…”

“Now—I’ve found it.”

The soft breeze carried away her quiet whisper, unheard by anyone.

At the edge of the horizon, faint rays of dawn pierced the darkness.

The long night had ended.

Daybreak had come.

And with it—a brand new chapter was about to begin.