Chapter 151: Let my sister masturbate

“Still, you don’t need to worry too much. The High Tower may not have any overwhelmingly powerful backing, but if it’s just ordinary problems, we can still handle them.”

“Wait…” Perletti frowned slightly, catching a contradiction in the timeline. “If I remember correctly, the third Elven King died several hundred years ago. So why is the second one still alive?”

Unlike before, this time Isabella didn’t seem surprised that Perletti knew this. The near self-destructive end of the third Elven King wasn’t exactly a secret among the upper circles of elves and humans—it just depended on how much attention people paid to it.

“Elves naturally have long lifespans. When it comes to their throne, succession usually happens when the current ruler has trained a suitable heir—they simply step down voluntarily.” Isabella explained patiently, her voice soft. “That ‘old guy’ didn’t cause any catastrophic disasters during his reign, so of course he’s still alive. He’s probably somewhere deep in the forest right now, enjoying his long retirement.”

As she spoke, she raised her slender, almost translucent hand and lightly tapped Perletti’s forehead with her fingertip—so gentle it felt like a feather brushing past.

“So, you little one,” Isabella said, pretending to frown sternly, though her eyes were filled with warmth, “don’t jump straight to ‘fight and kill’ every time you open your mouth. Saying things like ‘how do we eliminate them’ with a face as pretty as yours… that’s a complete waste—no, a desecration—of the word ‘beautiful girl’!”

Perhaps because she was too weak, the tap carried no real force. Still, Perletti instinctively tilted her head away and muttered softly, “It’s not like I chose to become like this…”

“Whether you like it or not, you are a living, breathing, soft and adorable beautiful girl,” Isabella declared righteously, her tone carrying an almost protective firmness. “And I won’t allow you to belittle yourself like that. Now then—”

She suddenly clapped her hands, and the surrounding starlight trembled slightly.

“Come, let me give this newly arrived, adorable beauty a small… onboarding divination.”

“Divination? Why is that even part of the process?”

“That’s the main reason I brought you up here in the first place. What did you think?” Isabella blinked playfully, a teasing curve at her lips. “Did you think I’d just execute you on the spot—in front of Feiye?”

“L-let’s not do that!” Perletti shrank her neck, her cheeks heating up. She didn’t even dare turn around to check Feiye’s expression outside the door.

“Then… do I need to do anything for the divination?”

“Nope. Just stand… right there. Don’t move.”

Perletti followed her instructions and stood still.

Isabella raised a finger. Invisible threads seemed to stir in the air, and the previously drifting starlight began to move with purpose, gathering around Perletti and gently surrounding her. The points of light accelerated, rearranged, and reformed—eventually settling into a complex and silent star chart encircling her.

To Perletti, it only seemed slightly dimmer than before—nothing particularly special.

But as Isabella stared at the star chart formed for her, her pale face gradually turned serious. She observed it for a long time before finally nodding slowly, heavily.

“What do you see?” Perletti’s heart tightened.

“An ill omen. Endless ill omens,” Isabella said quietly, her voice carrying a rare weight. “It’s practically… a destiny filled with tragedy and thorns.”

Even after witnessing countless destinies over her long life, the dense gloom revealed by this chart still made her feel a chill.

“Is there… not even a single piece of good news?” Perletti’s voice dropped unconsciously.

Isabella shook her head silently. Then, as if to dispel the heavy atmosphere, she waved her hand lightly, and the star chart dissolved.

“Alright then, Light Witch—Miss Perletti, a girl radiant like the rising sun. Your room will be set on the thirteenth level.”

“Do you have to make it sound that formal…? Also, where exactly is the first room on the thirteenth level?” Perletti asked, confused. The tower’s spiral structure gave her no clear sense of “floors.”

“Exit through this door, go down the stairs, and the fifth wooden door you come across—that’s the one,” Isabella explained in detail. “That room was temporarily sealed by Furuye’s magic. Everything inside has been preserved as it was.”

“And how do I remove the seal?”

“Open the window.”

“…Why seal a perfectly good room in the first place?”

“Because the one who used to live there… is no longer here,” Isabella replied calmly. “Naturally, her room was sealed and left as a memorial.”

“‘No longer here’… what does that mean?” Perletti’s heart tightened. “Are there… many empty rooms like that?”

“Yes.” Isabella let out a soft breath. “Don’t be fooled by the number of rooms. Right now, including me, only twenty-six witches actually live here. With you, that makes twenty-seven. The rest… are empty.”

Silence filled the room for a moment, broken only by the quiet drifting of starlight.

Then Isabella suddenly took a deep breath, her bright, lively smile returning as if the heaviness had never existed.

“Ahh, it’s supposed to be my first proper meeting with you, Perletti, and yet I keep making things so serious… I’m really an unqualified leader, aren’t I?”

“Hey! Don’t randomly add weird suffixes to my name!” Perletti’s face flushed bright red again.

“Mm~ I think it’s cute. It suits you perfectly,” Isabella said with a smile.

“Where does it suit me…” Perletti muttered, though her ears were burning.

“Now, something important,” Isabella’s smile softened, her tone turning serious. “Regarding your ‘Witch’s Feast’ and the nature of your element—there are fewer than five people in the entire tower who know the truth. And those five… you can trust completely.”

She looked at Perletti, her gaze warm yet firm.

“As long as you don’t reveal your core secret yourself, none of the witches here will make things difficult for you. You can treat this place as your home. And if anyone from the elven royal family comes looking for you… don’t be afraid. Carolyn and I will stand by your side.”

“…Thank you.”

Before leaving, Perletti sincerely expressed her gratitude to this seemingly unserious yet quietly dependable leader.

Since becoming a witch, this was the first time she had felt such pure kindness—untainted by schemes or benefits.

No ties from a previous life, no urgent intent to use her—just one stranger extending a warm and steady hand to another.

After Perletti left, Isabella turned her gaze toward Feiye, who still lingered hesitantly by the doorway. A bright smile spread across her face—one that, to Feiye, looked strangely… dangerous.

“Fey—yeee—! Come here, come here~!”

She waved cheerfully.

“I’ve got a little secret I want to tell you… just between us, okay?”

To Feiye, the scene felt like watching the Grim Reaper set aside its scythe and beckon gently. She instinctively took half a step back.

“…Can I refuse?” Feiye’s voice, for once, carried a trace of hesitation.

“Get over here you~!” Isabella’s laughter rang out like clear bells, playful yet impossible to refuse. “Let me take a good look at you—and maybe… give you a nice squeeze!”

“Mm—!”