Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 159: Xia Ya: Finely Dice It into Mince

Material Plane, Western Continent, Fresta Empire, Outer District of the Imperial Capital.

Inside an abandoned civilian house in the commoner’s area.

A tall and withered figure completely shrouded in a black robe moved through the decaying rooms, arranging ritual components.

Jars and vials of unknown liquids, the remains of unidentifiable creatures, glittering magical gems...

And a bizarre arcane formation pattern.

“High and mysterious black mist,”

“You are the clouds that overlook the world, the eternal nation outside of time, and the mist beyond all laws,”

“Please, as the witness to a fair exchange, bring to me the transcendent item from beyond the Starrealm, the promised good of this fair trade.”

The black-robed figure stared into the silver mirror before him, uttering a prayer in a voice dry and aged.

Five seconds passed.

Ten seconds passed—

Nothing happened.

Only when the old black-robed figure began to grow impatient did the silver mirror suddenly shudder.

A pitch-black, illusory mist silently began to seep out from within the mirror.

Then, it engulfed the entire room he was in.

“It’s finally here.”

A gleam of light flashed in the old man’s eyes.

He continued to wait patiently.

A long while later, the mist dissipated.

The silver mirror had, at some point, silently shattered.

In its place lay a pale white skull, wreathed in black flame.

The instant he laid eyes on that skull, the old man’s expression grew heavy.

He could sense the towering and profound aura surrounding the skull, an awe-inspiring presence as if from beyond the stars.

It was indeed a relic of a True God.

Even the faintest of its external aura was enough to instill fear in someone like him—a peak among Legends.

But at the same time,

a searing desire ignited deep within the black-robed old man’s heart.

As long as he completed the trade with the Ashen Order’s Grand Pontiff,

he would be granted a wisp of unclaimed divinity and a Star Chalice fragment.

Then, using that, he could ignite divine fire and ascend the Long Stair to Godhood—the path to becoming a god.

Given time, he too could become a mighty being like the one who had once owned this Ashen Relic skull—

a being that stood above all mortals, even above the stars.

Of course, the cost of this deal would not be light.

Those madmen of the Ashen Order might be insane, but they weren’t fools.

Unclaimed divinity and Star Chalice fragments were immensely tempting to any Mythical being. He had no ties to the Ashen Order or the Lord of Ashes, so why would they simply give it to him for free?

This “gift” had long since been marked with a hidden price.

If the Lost Domain’s cultists succeeded in their plot to overthrow the Empire—

it would mean the complete collapse of the Empire.

Everything he had built over the years within the Empire would be gone.

Not to mention, as the saying goes, “The first to stick out gets shot.”

If the Empire fell and the Evil God descended, such massive upheaval would spark unrest across the Western Continent.

Whether it was the Church of Dawn, the Noble Alliance, or the Three Mage Towers... they would all have to step forward and give an answer on behalf of the Order Faction.

But the cultists had long since abandoned any fear—they were barefoot and had nothing to lose. Their sins were many and their grudges long-standing. When the time came, they could just retreat to the Lost Domain and wouldn’t care if another crime was added to their name.

However, as the instigator of the Empire’s fall and a traitor—

he would become a prime example, a named fugitive on bounty notices across the continent.

Especially the Church of Dawn—they would stop at nothing to kill a summoner of an Evil God.

At that point, he would likely be forced to flee into the Lost Domain, where even the cultists would take the chance to squeeze him dry.

The black-robed elder was no fool. At the Golden Dawn’s secret gathering, he had already anticipated all of this.

Yet he still chose to propose the trade.

Because as a Legendary power, his lifespan was already nearing its limit—

and the boundary of the Throne Tier was still impossibly far.

So far, he hadn’t even glimpsed the hope of reaching it.

And he did not want to die.

For any Legendary with dwindling life, the desire to survive was the most intense and blazing.

As long as he used the unclaimed divinity and Star Chalice fragment obtained through this trade to ignite his divine fire,

he could breathe new life into his already decaying human body and become a true Mythical Being.

Of course, doing so meant giving up many things.

But compared to the desire to live,

those ideals of loyalty, justice, and the sense of duty instilled since childhood all seemed utterly trivial.

He had once fought blood-soaked battles in his youth, expanding the Empire’s borders in wars against the Lost Domain, fearless of death.

But as his body aged and his spirit corroded, he had finally arrived at this point.

The flicker of nostalgia passed through his hollow, aged eyes—then vanished.

“Come in. Follow the procedure I told you. Pray to the relic. Ask for the steps needed to prepare the descent ritual.”

The black-robed elder gestured outside.

Soon after, a black-clad deathsworn entered the room, bowed to the elder, asked no questions,

and directly knelt before the black-flame skull to begin his illusory prayer.

Having taken root in the Imperial Capital for so many years, the old man had naturally raised a batch of loyal followers known only to him.

Of course, they were the kind that had consumed secret elixirs—

the kind that would die without the antidote,

just like the one Norton had made Xia Ya take during the Historical Echo.

Watching through the mental imprint embedded in the Giant King’s skull above the black mist, Xia Ya couldn’t help but sigh:

“One Norton falls, but ten thousand others rise.”

After all, this was still a living Evil God Corrupted Object.

Even with the strength of a Legendary, the old man dared not come into direct contact for long—

lest his mind be subtly infected by the corruption and he become a follower of ash.

With a loyal subordinate whose life and death he controlled,

there was no reason to risk exposure himself.

The prayer to the Giant King’s skull ended quickly.

Before long, the deathsworn returned.

But his face wore an expression of confusion and hesitation.

“Lord…”

“Hm?” The black-robed elder frowned at his subordinate’s unsteady demeanor and urged,

“Speak. What kind of behavior is this, stammering like that?”

The deathsworn hesitated for a moment, then quickly stepped closer and whispered something into the old man’s ear.

He hadn’t even finished speaking when he was interrupted by the elder’s stern glare.

“Nonsense! After following me for so long, how can you fail at such a simple task?”

The deathsworn hesitantly defended himself,

“But… that’s really what the relic’s divine oracle instructed.”

“Absurd!” the black-robed elder snorted coldly. “Tell me—whose relic is this?”

“It belongs to the Lord of Ashes...”

Because he had to recite the prayer, the trusted subordinate naturally also knew the true name of the entity being worshipped.

“Exactly. You know it’s that same Lord of Ashes who loves to burn down cities with sacrificial fire, whose followers wave around crappy scythes pretending to be knock-off Grim Reapers, and who scream ‘burn, burn, burn’ every time they see a couple.”

The black-robed elder was so angry he laughed. He had completely lost faith in his subordinate.

Despite the risk of directly contacting a Corrupted Object, he decided to do it himself.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

The black-robed elder bowed toward the pale white skull and recited the prayer his subordinate had previously used.

Then, with a respectful tone, he spoke:

“O supreme, great Lord of Ashes—

as an ally of your faithful, I beseech you to grant the grace of divine descent, and to inform us of the preparation steps required for the descent ritual.”

As he prayed, the pale skull’s two hollow eye sockets suddenly lit up with black flame, like ghostly fire.

Immediately after, lines of pale golden text appeared in the air above the abandoned room.

The black-robed elder looked up—

“1. Finely dice 1,000 jin of lean beef into mince. Cook until one-third done. Not a speck of fat should remain.”

“2. Finely dice 1,000 jin of fatty beef into mince. Cook until half-done. Not a speck of lean should remain.”

“3. Finely dice 1,000 jin of beef cartilage into mince. Cook until seventy percent done. Not a speck of meat should remain.”

“4. Finely dice 1,000 jin of beef ribs...”