The Devil’s Cursed Witch

374 Mocking



Zaria’s lips curved into a sickeningly sweet smile as she looked at the weak body lying in the middle of the small grass bed tucked at the corner, its size barely enough to hold that thin naked body.

That person was a woman covered in dried blood, and if not for the small movement of her chest, one would think she was a corpse. Her wrists had thick metal cuffs which were connected to the chains attached to the stone wall.

It was the missing Divine Eagle Myra.

Her appearance bore a strong resemblance to Aureus, only her features were feminine. However, she looked so miserable at this point that even if Drayce and Morpheus were to see her, it would take them several seconds to recognize her. Her long golden hair had lost its original shine, and few of them had even fallen on the floor, and she was so thin she looked like she had been starved for a long time.

“How pretty.”

Zaria entered the chamber, leisurely closing the door behind her and hanging that lamp on the hook near the door frame.

“My pretty little bird, your master has come. Won’t you wake up and greet her with a song?”

The chained woman slowly turned her head to look at her visitor. Golden eyes the color of liquid gold appeared in the darkness, and at first they were unfocussed, somewhat dull even, but as soon as their owner recognized the face of the black-haired woman, hostility flashed within them.

The person she hated the most, the one she wished to kill the first chance she get—

“How are you, my dear Myra?” the witch asked like she truly cared about her wellbeing. “Did you sleep well?”

However, even though her voice sounded kind, the evil look in her eyes was unmistakable. She gazed at Myra as if she was nothing more than an object of amusement.

Myra simply turned her head back to face the wall and closed her eyes.

“Are you upset, my dear, that you missed the chance to see your son?” Zaria asked, like a gossipy relative, her tone mockingly concerned. “Alas, it was his fault. He did not know what was good for him. If only he obediently followed me, then you two would have reunited.”

Myra pretended to be deaf and didn’t bother to react to her provocation, but the witch continued to speak, unbothered by her silence.

“Don’t worry. I am not a cruel person. See, you have been by my side for years and I have benefitted lots from you. I think of you fondly, like a friend. At the very least, I will let you see your son before he takes over your role.”

Myra wanted to scream and tell her to stay away from her son, but she could not. She was very, very weak, and even breathing was a strain for her body. She needed to preserve her energy to keep on surviving.

After all the terrors she had gone through, Myra was so broken she had once thought of escaping this hell through death, but…

The only thing that kept her going was hope. A small, feeble hope that maybe, maybe she could at least see her son and her brother before she died.

“Alas! You are indeed upset,” Zaria said as she let out a dramatic sigh, “and here I thought you would be grateful that you have gotten a relaxing vacation for the past few days. You really don’t know how to be thankful that I won’t be taking your blood until you recover sufficiently. I know you want to survive long enough to see your family. I am a very supportive friend, but tsk, you seem to be ungrateful to me.

“I am heartbroken, Myra.”

Myar swallowed her anger and breathed deeply to keep her calm. Taking her blood signified this witch had a dangerous spell to cast, as the fresher the divine blood, the more powerful its effect as catalyst.

Myra didn’t want this. She felt she was better off dead so her divine blood would not harm others, but at the same time, she was conflicted to disappear from this world without ever seeing her loved ones for the last time.

Though she was not getting any reaction from her, Zaria didn’t mind. Myra was always like this.

When she was abducted, she tried to fight back for the first few months, but when she realized her impossible situation, she gave up resisting and played dead. Decades later, she was weakened to the point she could not even sit and would not say a word back anymore.

However, Zaria had little care for her. Why would she when this Divine Eagle was but a tool? It was her blood that mattered the most to her.please visit panda(-)N0ve1.co)m

As long as  Myra is alive and breathing, it didn’t matter if she became ugly, blind, mute or crazy.

Zaria made sure this eagle would not escape by any means. The cuffs on her hands were enchanted with spells, and Myra’s body was corroded by black magic. Even a healthy shapeshifter could not break the spells on the chains and the door, much less a starved, half-dead female.

But, Zaria was in too good a mood to talk to herself. She wanted to get Myra to react.

“Ah, before I go, I am suddenly reminded. You know Draven? Do you still remember him, the only man you have ever loved?”

Myra’s body visibly stiffened the moment she heard this name. Zaria never mentioned him in so many years, and it worried her why she was bringing him up today. Did something happen to Agartha? Was he alright?

“Oh, my bad. He was not the only man you loved. I forgot about the father of your child. That filthy—alas, are you glaring at me? Yes, that’s a lovely look.”

Zaria took a small bottle out of nowhere and approached Myra. She removed the cork and lightly tipped the contents into her mouth, and despite her weak struggle, Myra had been forced to drink the potion inside.

“Be good. Can you feel your strength returning? I saw you struggling to breathe. We can’t have your heart stop once I drop the shocking news. I poured enough for you to speak, so accompany me for a chat, will you?” Zaria leisurely kept the bottle using her powers, and after that, she stood up once more. “I heard that your beloved Draven has gotten himself a mate.”

Myra’s eyes wavered but she remained quiet.

“Are you sad that he has a mate now? You know, I recall that when he rejected you, he claimed the reason being he won’t ever have a mate.”

“He rejected me, that doesn’t mean he cannot have a mate. If you are trying to provoke me, then it won’t work as I feel nothing for him. All I feel and think is how to kill you, you damned witch!”

A response, finally!

Zaria laughed. She got what she wanted and her amusement echoed inside that underground chamber.

“Oh, my pretty little bird. I almost forgot how lovely your songs sounded. Sing for me more, cursed me more, better if you do it while crying though…”

As Zaria stared down at the chained woman, she could not help but grab her hair, forcefully pulling it just to hear her cry out. “Ah…”

“Yes, like this. Perfect. You know, seeing you like this reminds me of your brother,” she smiled. “Morpheus, I wonder how he’s been. I haven’t seen him for a century now but I still remember everything about him like I had seen him just yesterday.”

“I’m glad my brother rejected you even before you showed us your true colors,” Myra chuckled mockingly. “The moment you see him will be your last. You will end up killed by the target of your obsession.”

“Not an obsession but love, you wench!” The grasp the Black Witch had on her hair tightened as she glared down at Myra. “I love him! I love him but he spurned my love! I will hurt him back by killing you in front of his eyes. That day…that moment he would regret rejecting me.”

“Go ahead. Kill me. Even better if you kill me now, at least I can get out of this hellhole. You should worry about yourself how cruel death you will get by my brother’s hands…the man once you crazily obsessed over but he didn’t even spare you a glance.”

Zaria slapped her with her other hand, but Myra laughed despite the blood trickling down her lips.

“Poor you,” Myra chuckled, “at least the man I once loved, he will come to save me, but the one you ‘loved’ will come to kill you.”

Zaria’s face suddenly turned calm, as if she had never lost her composure in the first place. She then let go of Myra’s hair.

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The next moment, corrosive black magic enveloped her hands and that underground chamber resounded with Myra’s pained cries.

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