Chapter 25: The First Lesson: A Taste of Witchcraft

In the morning, Alice was led into the study.

“Miss, please!” The butler, walking ahead, pulled open the door for Alice, bowing respectfully.

“Thank you,” Alice replied, feeling somewhat unaccustomed to the butler’s solicitous manner.

After breakfast, the Duchess had gathered all the servants in the manor. She then announced Alice’s identity as the Duke’s illegitimate daughter to everyone present.

The Duchess even produced a will, presenting it with great solemnity. She explained that the secrecy surrounding Alice’s identity was due to concerns that rivals for the ducal title might seek to harm the Duke’s daughter.

While most of the butler and servants harbored doubts about the Duchess’s claims, no one dared voice a single question. The Duchess had long been the de facto mistress of the manor, and indeed, of the entire territory. Whatever she declared about the girl’s identity was, by default, the truth.

Alice stepped into the study, and the butler closed the door behind her before departing.

The Duchess was already waiting by the tea table. The moment she saw Alice, she greeted her with a smile, “You’re here, my dear daughter.”

“Do we really need to keep up this act when no one else is around?” Each time the Duchess addressed her as ‘daughter’ in such an intimate tone, Alice felt goosebumps prickle her skin.

“I’m calling you that so you can adapt as soon as possible. Sooner or later, we’ll have to appear in public together, and it would be rather awkward if you didn’t act naturally then,” the Duchess explained, gesturing to the empty seat beside the tea table. “Come, sit down and have some tea.”

“Aren’t we supposed to have lessons today?” Alice asked, settling into the chair with a puzzled expression.

“It’s fine, it’s not too late to start lessons after a morning tea,” the Duchess said, pouring a cup for Alice. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Alice cautiously reached for the teacup.

Just as her hand brushed the handle, an intense, inexplicable chill suddenly swept over her.

She recoiled her fingers as if jolted by electricity, leaving the tea untouched.

For some unknown reason, she found her body inexplicably resisting the act of drinking that tea.

This cup of tea… seemed to fill her with a profound sense of unease.

Seeing her reaction, a faint smile played on the Duchess’s lips.

“What did you feel?” the Duchess inquired.

Alice looked at her in surprise, then suddenly understood. “Is there something wrong with this tea?”

“Nothing at all, except that I’ve poisoned it,” the Duchess replied with a smile. “The kind that can kill a person outright.”

Alice’s eyes widened. She stared at the Duchess, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. Didn’t your witch’s precognitive ability already warn you?” The Duchess gazed into Alice’s eyes. “This is our first lesson: about the witch’s power you now possess.”

“What I felt just now was… a witch’s ability?” Alice began to grasp the situation.

“Witches of every rank possess precognitive abilities. The higher the rank, the stronger the precognition, the clearer the future seen, and the further into the future one can peer,” the Duchess began to explain. “There are two types of precognition. One is when a witch actively divines the future—something you cannot yet do at your current rank, so I won’t elaborate for now. The other is passive precognition. Passive precognition is entirely random; it’s like a sudden revelation, allowing you to glimpse the future, though you’ll rarely know when it will strike. However, there’s one situation where it is almost guaranteed to manifest…”

“When facing death?” Alice responded quickly.

“Strictly speaking, it’s when your own destiny is about to undergo a significant turning point; facing death is merely one such instance,” the Duchess clarified. “Your current rank is ‘Witch’ of the Ninth Order, which primarily grants you an intuitive sixth sense. While passive precognition might occasionally allow you to perceive beyond your rank, the probability of such an occurrence is exceedingly small.”

“So, if I just trust my intuition, will I never die a violent death?” Alice asked.

The ability to foresee the future sounded like an incredibly potent cheat. If a witch could continuously predict and evade their own death, they would essentially be unkillable.

“Passive precognition has a limited number of uses per day. Moreover, there are instances where one foresees death but lacks the power to avert it, especially when encountering an opponent of a higher rank. In such cases, the precognition becomes blurred,” the Duchess stated. “Many of the witches burned by the Inquisition, while some were merely unfortunate women falsely accused, also included true witches. When they faced Inquisitors of far higher ranks, even if they foresaw the danger, they ultimately couldn’t escape being burned at the stake. The lesson here is: relying too much on ‘insurance’ to deliberately court danger will only hasten your demise.”

“I see. Even if one can foresee future developments to some extent, power is still needed to truly control one’s destiny,” Alice mused, nodding thoughtfully.

“You grasp things quickly,” the Duchess complimented with a smile. “Now, pick up the teacup.”

“But isn’t it poisoned?” Alice didn’t understand the Duchess’s intention.

“Pick it up, and focus your attention on the tea,” the Duchess simply instructed.

Knowing it was part of the lesson, Alice complied.

She stared intently at the tea, and suddenly felt a faint, fleeting pang in her heart.

Just as she wondered at this sensation, the Duchess abruptly produced three small vials and placed them on the table.

“These three bottles contain deadly poisons. The tea holds one of them. Observe carefully and determine which one it is,” the Duchess said.

Alice reached out to pick up the vials. To her surprise, she found that a part of her body subtly reacted each time she touched a bottle.

With the first vial, she felt a dull ache in her stomach.

With the second, she suddenly felt dizzy.

It wasn’t until the third vial that she once again experienced the familiar pang in her heart.

“It’s this one.” She picked up the third bottle without hesitation.

“Correct,” the Duchess nodded. “You must have heard the legends of witches excelling at concocting various magical elixirs, haven’t you?”

“Is this also a witch’s ability?” Alice asked.

“Indeed, this is the witch’s ‘Potion Mastery’ ability. Witches can, to some extent, foresee the effects of medicines and magical beast materials on the human body. Of course, this doesn’t mean becoming a witch grants pharmacological knowledge; the study of medicine still requires additional learning,” the Duchess continued to explain.

“But this merely makes it easier for witches to master pharmacology than ordinary people. By that logic, shouldn’t ordinary people also be able to concoct magical potions if they put in enough effort?”

The Duchess shook her head. “But witches possess a special potion ingredient: a witch’s blood. Only a witch’s blood can concoct specific witch elixirs, including魅惑药 (Charm Potions), 兽化药 (Beast Transformation Potions), 变化药 (Transformation Potions), and 性转药 (Gender-Swap Potions)… all of which are formulated with a witch’s blood as the core ingredient.”

“Wait, what did you just say!?” Alice’s ears perked up instantly.

“All of which are formulated with a witch’s blood as the core ingredient,” the Duchess repeated, deliberately only the last part.

“The sentence before that!”

“Are you interested in Gender-Swap Potions?” A teasing smile played on the Duchess’s face.