Disaster struck.
There was no warning.
The blue and clear sky from just moments ago was suddenly consumed by terrifying magic, transforming the heavens into a hellish scene.
Crimson fire meteors materialized out of nowhere, countless and unrelenting, resembling a sea of blood. They dyed the entire sky a desperate, oppressive scarlet.
“Tsk-tsk-“
Skyfire roared overhead.
Meteors fell with terrifying force, bombarding the city below. Buildings crumbled into rubble, engulfed by the relentless onslaught.
Desperate cries for help echoed from every direction.
Before Krisha could comprehend what was happening, her body moved instinctively, like a moth drawn to a flame. She flew toward the fireball hurtling toward the courtyard.
She cast her spell.
“Guardian of Water!!!”
It was futile.
How could a frail moth extinguish a raging inferno?
The water magic she poured her entire strength into, even with the backup power of her wand, was easily obliterated by the meteor.
Krisha failed.
Completely.
All she could do was watch the fireball descend. She was powerless to stop it.
“Bang——”
The deafening roar reverberated through the air.
The fiery meteor struck the courtyard, unleashing a cataclysmic explosion. The blast sent waves of destruction outward, obliterating everything in its path.
The courtyard, filled with countless cherished memories, collapsed in an instant.
Krisha herself was thrown far away by the shockwave. She tumbled, rolled, and finally slammed into a brick wall before coming to a stop.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
Her body was wracked with unbearable pain—bones screamed, muscles tore, and blood flowed freely.
But…
But that pain was nothing compared to the agony inside her chest.
The heartache tearing her mind apart was true despair. Even imagining the source of that despair was enough to shatter her fragile self.
“Master…”
Amid the ruins, engulfed by black smoke and swirling dust, the young witch staggered to her feet.
Her eyes, usually empty and lifeless, now betrayed a faint glimmer of panic. Her face, always expressionless, showed subtle hints of anxiety.
She gripped her wand tightly.
Though cracked and missing a piece, it was still usable.
“Wind control.”
Her trembling voice whispered the incantation. Wind magic enveloped her broken body, lifting her into the air as she forced herself toward the burning courtyard.
The explosion had thrown her far from her destination.
The journey should have been short, but in her injured state, it felt endless—a descent into the abyss.
She passed scenes of horror: collapsing buildings, smoldering ruins, and the injured and dying strewn everywhere.
Tragedy and terror filled the air.
Krisha pushed herself harder, flying faster despite the growing pain. But her body eventually gave out.
Her spell broke.
She fell.
She crashed to the ground, rolling several times before coming to a painful stop. Her clothes were in tatters, and her pale skin was marred with wounds.
Her face, hands, legs—everywhere bore deep scratches, dirt, and blood.
But Krisha didn’t care.
“Master… Master… Master…”
The words spilled from her lips like a mantra.
Her vision was locked on the burning ruins ahead.
Since magic had failed her, she would walk.
If she couldn’t walk, she would crawl.
She had to see him again.
Driven by this unshakable belief, Krisha rose once more.
She didn’t bother retrieving her lost wand. All she cared about was reaching the courtyard.
Her mind was consumed by one thought: Xu Xi must be safe.
No injuries. No death. Not even the smallest scratch.
She wouldn’t allow it.
Even someone like her—discarded, unwanted—had managed to survive. How could someone as warm and radiant as him not?
Ah… Ahhhh…
The very thought caused her heart to contract violently, pain ripping through her as she quickened her pace.
But the sudden burst of speed sent her tumbling again.
She hit the ground hard, her calf throbbing, her cheek scratched by sharp pebbles. Her body convulsed with exhaustion.
But none of it mattered.
Ignoring the pain, ignoring her tattered and bloodied state, Krisha moved forward.
If she fell, she stood again.
If she fell again, she stood once more.
Finally, after navigating the rubble of a collapsed building, she reached the courtyard.
But it wasn’t the serene haven she remembered.
The lush flowers, the quiet beauty—all of it was gone.
As far as her eyes could see, there was only destruction.
Raging flames consumed the remains of the courtyard. Smoke billowed into the sky, and the searing heat scorched her face.
Dead silence hung in the air.
There was nothing left.
“Plop——”
Krisha’s legs gave out.
She collapsed to her knees, staring blankly at the ruins.
The firelight danced across her face, its warmth unable to thaw the cold void growing within her.
Her eyes, always hollow, were even emptier now.
Because she was a witch—a creature incapable of joy, incapable of emotions.
Or so it seemed.
But within her fragile, lonely soul, could it be that she did feel something?
Krisha didn’t know.
The only one who could answer her—the one who had given her courage, the one who had been her sun—was gone.
Ah, why is this happening…
The young witch knelt motionless, her gaze locked on the burning ruins.
Her mind spiraled with unanswered questions:
Why was she still alive when her master was gone?
Why couldn’t she have been faster, stronger, better?
Why couldn’t she have taken his place?
Why… why… why…
Without her master, she had no reason to exist. Without the sun, there was no future. Without his warm gaze, she couldn’t take another step.
Her very being—body and soul—depended entirely on his presence.
If he was gone, then what was the point of her survival?
“…”
Trembling, Krisha clutched her chest, feeling the unbearable weight of her pain.
So this is what it feels like…
To be sad.