She Is Not a Witch

“Please, stand up. I’m not refusing to help you.”

The rabbits still didn’t raise their heads, but pleaded once more.

“We hope the noble lady will take us in. We can farm, labor, fight—anything. Please accept and protect our weak race.”

The rabbit representatives present, initially hesitant, now became increasingly earnest and determined. This was a great gamble, but did they have any other choice?

If they didn’t seize this chance to establish a connection and offer their loyalty, such an opportunity might never come again. Not every powerful being had a kind heart, nor would every strong one step in to save rabbits who weren’t their own kind.

Their numbers had already dwindled from over 500,000 to less than 200,000. There was no room left for waiting.

After some hesitation, Loranhil looked at these determined rabbits and finally agreed.

“If you want to follow me, you must show satisfactory results. There are no free benefits in this world. If you want something, you must strive for it with your own hands.”

“Yes, we won’t disappoint you!”

The rabbits raised their heads excitedly, their eyes shining brightly in the firelight, full of fighting spirit and hope.

Over the next few days, the girl pointed out some herbs to the village rabbits, telling them where to find and collect them in large quantities.

After gathering the herbs, the girl drained the giant snake’s blood to use as a base, combined it with other herbs, and refined a large quantity of blood-activating potions. Not only did this heal the injured in the village, but there was plenty left over. She had them store some and trade the rest with nearby villages for daily necessities to replenish what was lost in the battle.

Seeing that the rabbits’ farming techniques were still crude, lacking in intensive cultivation and crop rotation to maintain soil fertility, the girl decided to use her system borrowing card to exchange for some books on agriculture. She then taught these techniques to the rabbits hands-on.

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“That’s right, insert the seedlings into the paddy like this. Keep the spacing between each plant consistent. When you’re done, it should have a neat and orderly beauty.”

The girl, wearing a light yellow sun hat, stood barefoot in the cool paddy field, her fair calves exposed. She inserted the slender rice seedlings into the field, teaching the group of rabbits how to plant rice.

[Golden Maple Rice] (Bronze grade): A specially improved variety with large, plump panicles of golden color. Can be planted in paddy fields, has extremely high yield, good resistance to pests and diseases, and is heat-tolerant. Requires spraying of special medicine during each generation’s pollination, otherwise it can only be inherited for three generations.

With the rabbits’ help in searching, Loranhil collected rice seeds. After several improvements and using an [Amber Fruit], she obtained this relatively rare variety. To prevent this rice from proliferating indefinitely and causing environmental harm, she deliberately added a safeguard: during its growth and pollination stage, it needs to be sprayed with her special medicine, otherwise it won’t produce panicles after two generations.

She also taught these rabbits some supernatural sequence cultivation methods to enhance their self-protection abilities. By the time she returned to her maple leaf courtyard, it was already afternoon. Loranhil had recently urgently ripened some [Full Moon Cotton].

After harvesting the cotton bolls, she first removed impurities, cleaned them, then carded, sliver-rolled, and drew them into roving. Next, she spun them into coarse and fine yarns, twisted the threads, warped, sized, and threaded them through the reed. Finally, she wove the fabric—a process completely different from what she had imagined.

The Mercury Dynasty’s spinning technology was not as advanced as the industrialized society of her previous life.

As in ancient societies, high-quality fabric could often be used as currency, which was true for a considerable period in the Ivar world as well.

She inquired in detail from the rabbits in the mountain village and learned that only the rich and nobles could afford fine cotton fabric, so it was usually carefully crafted by master tailors to avoid waste. Ordinary people could hardly dream of it.

The [Starlight Cloth] (Excellent Gold grade) she had hand-woven, improved from moonlight cloth, would probably be considered extremely luxurious even for royalty. As for the [Twilight Cloth] (Rare Pearl grade), it was an even rarer supernatural equipment. The Emperor of the Verdant Empire in the Western Continent probably only had one or two pieces in his wardrobe.

Unlike some metal materials, it was much harder to raise the upper limit of fabric. Coral-grade armor might be passed down in some imperial noble families, but Pearl-grade fabric, just one level below Coral, was extremely rare. This was because its crafting process was more complex and required more materials.

Since wearing metal armor was uncomfortable for everyday use, high-quality fabric was always in short supply.

As the sun gradually set, golden twilight poured through the crimson maple forest, and the temperature became extremely comfortable.

By the windowsill, the silver-haired girl carefully adjusted the wooden spinning wheel. In the quiet room, only the occasional sound of the spinning wheel could be heard. The warm-colored light fell on the girl as she gradually wove the threads into a long piece of pure white cloth embroidered with star patterns.

The pure white fabric featured stars of the same color, avoiding the monotony of a single-colored fabric while not appearing too gaudy.

With a snip, as the last thread was spun, the girl cut off the excess, and a soft, comfortable white starlight cloth was completed.

The girl gently tossed it in the air, and the pure white fabric reflected a faint golden light in the twilight.

“It’s really beautiful.” At that moment, an appreciative voice came from behind.

Who!

Loranhil was startled and quickly turned around. She saw a silver-haired, golden-eyed girl standing behind her, wearing a pure black dress with only the collar, cuffs, and hem in deep red. A butterfly hairpin adorned her ear.

This exquisite butterfly hairpin was identical to the one by the girl’s ear, with the only difference being that one had a blue crystal and the other a red crystal.

“I’m sorry for startling you. My name is Daytis. I arrived earlier, but seeing you so focused on weaving, I didn’t want to disturb you, so I’ve been quiet until now.”

Daytis, this name sounded familiar. That’s right, she must be the junior that Trina had mentioned. She was still alive in this world, and still appeared to be a 17-year-old girl.

Loranhil, in disbelief, widened her eyes as she looked at the black-dressed girl who was about the same height as herself.

“Really, don’t be afraid. I’m Trina’s junior. In the past, Sister Trina took great care of me, so I wanted to come and see her student and successor.”

The black-dressed girl, afraid of frightening Loranhil, slightly raised both hands to explain her origin.

Loranhil blinked, wanting to use her system to check the girl’s information. The extraordinary information she saw made her open her mouth slightly in surprise.

Name: Daytis Vivian

Race: Human (100% Adapter)

Identity: Witch of Thousand Changing Illusions, Regent of the Mercury Dynasty, Grand Witch of the Night Veil Tea Party, Queen of Shadows, Core Member of the Star-Gazing Esoteric Society

Status: Healthy (No abnormalities)

Sequence: Magic Sequence 9 · Balance of Illusion and Reality (Evaluation: Perfect Epic grade)

Talent:

Thousand Changing Illusions [Legendary grade]: Things in imagination may become real one day; the boundary between illusion and reality has blurred. (Specific effects unknown)

Abilities:

*** (Unknown)

*** (Unknown)

*** (Unknown)

…

Skills: Unknown

Except for one talent that was revealed, all other information was unknowable.

Even without knowing her full strength, it was clear that this silver-haired, golden-eyed girl was extraordinary. Spanning several millennia of existence, with various identities, and Sequence 9, which was once known as a nation-destroying existence—capable of destroying a country single-handedly. Such things had actually happened in history.

As beings infinitely close to godhood, each Supernatural Sequence 9 was unique, because everyone’s soul, experiences, style, and talents were different. Sequence 9 also meant developing one’s potential to the extreme, creating a unique class belonging only to oneself.

For example, the witches of the former Mercury Dynasty: Trina was Necromancy Sequence 9 · Psychopomp of the Underworld Butterfly, while Hades was Necromancy Sequence 9 · Soul Comforter of the Underworld. They both advanced from Necromancy Sequence 8 · Lord of Nightmares but took two different paths.

Supernatural Sequence 9 was the pinnacle of the entire Ivar world, while Supernatural Sequence 10 was more of a myth from ancient legends.

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“Um… hello,” Loranhil calmed herself a bit before slowly speaking.

“Mm-hmm.” Daytis nodded with a smile.

“I’m Loranhil, the one who accidentally found that box before.”

“Mm-hmm, it’s alright. It was left there by Sister Trina for the person chosen by fate.”

The black-dressed girl didn’t blame Loranhil, but rather seemed a bit happy.

“Standing like this is tiring. Let’s talk over there.”

Seemingly noticing that Loranhil was still a bit nervous, Daytis suggested sitting on the sofa in the hall to chat, which would be more relaxing.

So the two walked to the hall. The white-dressed girl, as if remembering something, went to another room to fetch two small cups, poured some clear cool water, and placed them in front of each person. Not knowing the other’s preferences or whether she liked tea, she didn’t prepare any.

Daytis picked up the cup without minding, took a small sip, and then began to speak.

“Loranhil, is it? It’s a lovely name, and you’re very beautiful too.”

In terms of appearance, the two were each charming in their own way. The black-dressed Daytis exuded a mysterious and seductive aura.

The silver-haired Loranhil carried an air of tranquility and clarity. However, considering that Loranhil was currently only at Sequence 2 and had great room for growth, strength was also a kind of charisma, and an attractive one at that.

“Thank you…” Loranhil was a bit shy. She had been fine with others before, but the person in front of her was at the pinnacle of this world. The bright red information in her system constantly reminded her that this seemingly friendly being was extremely dangerous.

Perhaps the other truly had no ill intentions, but being so powerful that a mere thought could determine her life or death, Loranhil was still a bit afraid.