“Alea, why are you always staring at me?” Unable to stand the witch’s suspicious gaze any longer, Aino finally asked.

“Because…uh, you just feel different.” Alea thought that something had changed in Aino since she returned, though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

If she had to describe it, it was like someone who had indulged after a long period of abstinence, exuding a strange sense of clarity and satisfaction.

After a moment’s thought, Alea’s eyes lit up in realization.

“Aino, open your mouth.”

“?”

Aino didn’t fully understand but obediently opened her mouth, revealing her delicate, rosy interior. Given their height difference, Alea easily looked inside, examining her closely.

She didn’t find the “bits of flesh stuck in her teeth” or “traces of blood” she’d imagined; instead, it was all perfectly clean. Aino’s tongue occasionally trembled from holding her mouth open so long, adding a somewhat vulnerable appearance.

Clearing her throat in embarrassment, Alea pulled back and asked with feigned calmness, “Aino, did you go and eat someone?”

The small girl froze. Aino hadn’t expected her secret to be unraveled by Alea so suddenly.

“I… I…”

Seeing Aino’s flustered expression, Alea relaxed and leaned in, speaking darkly near her face, “Miss, you wouldn’t want…”

“Hmph, it’s nothing I need to hide.” Aino extended her hands, her fingers transforming into sharp, long claws that looked genuinely menacing.

Alea recoiled quickly. In her magical sense, those claws seemed to drip with blood, unmistakably a symbol of savagery.

Is this her true form? The thought flitted through Alea’s mind.

She maintained a safe distance, waving her hands dismissively. Only when Aino let out a slight huff and retracted her claws did Alea cautiously approach again. “Why so intense? I’m a witch, after all.”

“Studying the strange, immersing oneself in forbidden arts, transcending the mundane world. People, things, emotions—they’re all meaningless in the eyes of a witch. I was just teasing you, Aino. Why would I care about something so trivial?”

Aino stared at Alea for a moment as if trying to see through her.

“I’m just following my heart,” Aino muttered as they continued walking.

“My attitude toward these things isn’t good or bad; I simply do what I feel like.”

“The world isn’t just black and white—there’s a lot more gray.”

It was unclear if she was saying this to Alea or to herself. The two walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

That night, once she was certain Alea was asleep, Aino turned her head slightly, gazing at the witch’s golden hair and peaceful sleeping face.

Alea had once been a sorceress. Witches and sorceresses were simply magic users who delved into forbidden arts.

She didn’t know what Alea had gone through, but her magical veins had been destroyed, leaving her entirely incapable of using magic. She was now, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary person.

This injury had been inflicted by a powerful professional, to strip her of her power and ensure she could never train again—transforming her from a witch wielding forbidden magic into a powerless shell.

It was an irreversible injury; only the Goddess of Life herself could restore Alea’s ability to train in magic.

She must be suffering deeply, but Aino had no idea how to help her.

And Alea was still wary of her. Aino knew nothing of Alea’s past, either.

Yet, she felt an inexplicable closeness to Alea—a strange lack of wariness toward this witch.

After a moment’s thought, she let it go.

In the dark depths of the goblin nest, Aino had seen Alea at her lowest, watched her cling to hope after enduring hell, observed her feigned composure when learning Aino’s true nature, and her resignation.

With her strength, Aino could sense Alea’s every move, given her current status as an ordinary person.

Aino witnessed her moments of confusion, contemplation, and distant memories.

In her former life, Aino had been a recluse with no friends, let alone romantic prospects. But who doesn’t want genuine, sweet companionship? She’d never entered anyone’s heart and had barely maintained normal social interactions.

Yet here, for the first time, Aino felt this was simple—maybe even an opportunity.

Alea was beautiful, a mysterious witch lying quietly beside her.

If she were a regular person with no martial or magical talent, no background, just like in her previous life—even uglier, perhaps…

Such an opportunity would never have existed. She’d never have had the chance to meet Alea, let alone save her from a goblin nest and keep her close.

And precisely because she’d enjoyed the privileges of power right from the start, Aino couldn’t imagine losing it.

Power was intoxicating. Having tasted it, Aino realized its importance even more deeply, and her desire to grow stronger was relentless—even now, she wasn’t strong enough.

Aino was powerful—strong enough that as long as she avoided certain dangers or people of renown, she faced virtually no threats.

This meant she could act as she pleased, as though she were a seasoned professional playing on a low-level account.

But the saying “the more often you walk by the river, the wetter your feet” was one she firmly believed in.

“Be careful, be careful,” she reminded herself once again.

This was a brutal, survival-of-the-fittest world.

Monsters, unlike humans, couldn’t learn martial arts or magic from teachers. They grew stronger through sheer survival, with their bodies and battle skills honed over time.

As a powerful creature, Aino had never fought against an opponent of equal strength.

It was like starting off with a max-level character and relying on that to dominate the weaker ones.

“Fighting monsters of my level? That’s too dangerous,” Aino thought. She could accept killing, knew she had to follow the world’s survival laws, and had even given in to her body’s urges to devour a few humans.

But she wasn’t prepared to put herself in constant danger to gain strength through battle. For a modern person with a peaceful outlook, it was too daunting.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—she was afraid.

The consequence of failure was death. Just like that—death.

“Maybe I should play it safe. Dragons are a long-lived species; time will only make me stronger.”

After a moment of introspective thinking in bed, Aino settled on her plan.

She would lay low among the weaker creatures. With her current strength, as long as she didn’t draw attention, she faced no real threats.

She would live like this, observing the world.

Money wasn’t a problem; if she ever needed it, she could take on a few “high-difficulty” tasks.

A beautiful companion, considerable strength, a long lifespan.

As long as she didn’t court death, life would be endlessly enjoyable.

“It’s all set, all set,” the black dragon muttered contentedly.