She Is Not a Witch

[Primal Jewel] (Quality 132, Excellent Black Iron Grade)

(Due to perfectly preserving most of the power during collection, it received a boost. Unfortunately, limited by the creature’s low strength, it only reached Excellent Black Iron Grade.)

Looking at the system’s explanation, Loranhil finally understood the system’s classification of sequence grades. Generally, Sequence 1 = Mundane Stone, Sequence 2 = Black Iron, Sequence 3 = Bronze, Sequence 4 = Silver, Sequence 5 = Gold, Sequence 6 = Pearl, Sequence 7 = Coral, Sequence 8 = Crystal, Sequence 9 = Epic, Sequence 10 = Godlike.

Then, the quality classification was the same as abilities:

Quality 0-50, Flawed

Quality 51-100, Normal

Quality 101-200, Excellent

Quality 201-300, Outstanding

Quality 301-500, Rare

Quality 501-800, Perfect

Quality 801-1000, Legendary

Quality 1000+, Mythical

Within each grade, some could be more exceptional, such as Rare Bronze > Excellent Bronze > Bronze > Flawed Bronze.

The Primal Jewel could be used to cultivate supernatural sequences and was also a material needed in many tools, rituals, and magical potions.

After storing the jewel, Loranhil turned to continue searching for some dry branches and firewood, hoping to start a fire before nightfall.

The silver-haired figure in a pure white dress moved effortlessly through the forest, like a graceful spirit.

This is…?

In a corner of the forest, the girl suddenly stopped. A broken stone tablet was slanted in front of a large tree, surrounded by overgrown weeds. A ray of sunlight pierced through a gap in the canopy, shining on the moss-covered stone tablet, giving it a faint sense of holiness.

Loranhil approached the rust-stained stone tablet. It should have once been inscribed with intricate patterns and text, but most had corroded and become illegible. It must have been built a long time ago.

Despite time’s merciless erosion, the girl still sensed a slight flow of Mana beneath the stone tablet. It was very faint; even she only perceived it after getting close.

Carefully brushing away the soil in front of the stone tablet, a rust-stained brass box appeared before her.

She flipped the hidden catch on the box and opened it. Inside was red velvet, upon which lay a purple jewel and a blue butterfly hairpin.

The hairpin was made of blue crystal and golden metal, its design exquisite.

[Legacy Jewel] (Quality 454, Rare Crystal Grade): A jewel that inherits memory and knowledge, containing the thoughts and expectations of its previous owner. Perhaps you can use it.

Before she could pick up any of the items, the jewel began to emit a soft light, and a beautiful figure appeared before Loranhil.

This figure wore a deep purple classical gown, with pure black hair reaching her waist, adorned with a lace hat and the same butterfly hairpin in her hair. She smiled gently at Loranhil and curtsied slightly.

“Greetings, fated one.”

Loranhil noticed that this figure had no physical form; it was just an image left by its owner in advance. Though her gaze seemed to be looking at Loranhil, there was a slight discrepancy in the line of sight. An ordinary person wouldn’t notice, but to her eyes, it was obvious.

“My name is Trina, a witch from the Second Era. Don’t be afraid; I have long since passed. This is just an illusion I left behind.”

The face of this witch, who had long vanished in time, showed no sadness but rather a calm serenity.

“I left this illusion before my death. Daytis helped me make it. I wonder if she’s still alive now, after all, witches are very long-lived.”

A nostalgic smile appeared on the witch’s face as she continued.

“Perhaps having experienced too much joy and sorrow, watching familiar faces disappear one by one. Sensing my time was short, I decided to return to this forest where I lived as a child, to spend the last moments of my life alone here.”

“Realizing I had neither children nor students, I felt a bit of regret. So I left some of my insights, hoping that one day someone chosen by fate would open it. Thinking of this made me happy, so I asked a junior for help to leave this jewel and my hairpin.”

“Using the Legacy Jewel is very simple. Just hold it in your hand and sense it gently. The hairpin contains my magic power; you can use it if you encounter danger.”

A witch? Loranhil felt surprised yet somehow expected it, after all, this was a fantastic, magical world.

[Trina’s Butterfly Hairpin] (Quality 482, Rare Epic Grade): Witch Trina entrusted her unique magical power to this hairpin before her death. Can be worn and used. (Uses remaining 3/3)

How marvelous, Loranhil thought as she picked up the jewel and hairpin. Suddenly noticing something, she quickly flipped over the velvet in the box. A note was slowly disintegrating, turning to dust. If she hadn’t turned it over in time, she might never have known what was written on it.

Unfortunately, Loranhil couldn’t recognize the text, so she just memorized it for now.

She had been able to understand the illusion’s words not because she could understand this world’s language, but because it was information directly emanating from the soul consciousness, theoretically understandable by any intelligent being.

Returning to her previously determined resting spot, night had fallen. Loranhil lit the firewood and sat on a stone by the campfire.

The Primal Jewel struck against a pebble, indeed producing a tiny spark. Recalling her earlier attempt, the girl couldn’t help but applaud her own ingenuity.

Although only half a day had passed since her awakening, it felt like a long time. The mountain night brought a hint of coolness.

The girl sat by the fire, quietly gazing at the scarlet flames. Watching the fire flicker slightly in the night wind, she occasionally heard the crackling of burning wood.

The bright firelight reflected in her pupils as Loranhil unconsciously recalled her former life. She wondered how her parents would cope with her disappearance, feeling a wave of sadness. In her previous world, she had been just an ordinary person, naturally not called Loranhil. But in this new world where no one knew her, using her old name didn’t hold much meaning anymore.

Memories always seem so beautiful through the filter of time. However, indulging in a past that can never be returned to only brings sorrow and melancholy. Since graduating and entering society, she had long understood this point.

Childhood playmates who had sworn to be friends forever slowly ceased contact. Even if they met, they would only feel a sense of unfamiliarity. We have each experienced completely different lives for over a decade; why should we expect ourselves or others to remain the same as before?

But here she was, thinking about these unhappy things again, even without that red music app.

The girl patted her cheeks and shook her head.