Chapter 102 Be Proud of Yourself
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
No matter how skilled the werewolf grandmasters were, even they couldn’t counteract the effects of a pure white spell. The uniqueness of such sorcery was undeniable. Even if the spell in question was only based on the principles of pure white magic, it remained impervious to conventional methods of disruption.
This revelation carried unsettling implications. It meant the witch capable of wielding such sorcery was either a pure white witch who had hidden her identity for years or someone possessing the rare bloodline of a pure white witch.
The southern Duke, as it happened, had a history deeply intertwined with a pure white witch…
“That’s a clever strategy,” I murmured, though unease prickled at the back of my mind. Carolyn was proving to be far more cunning than we’d anticipated. “Should we rethink our plan?”
The original plan was relatively straightforward. The werewolf grandmasters would disguise themselves as school employees to discreetly establish a magic circle on campus. This circle would serve to contain Carolyn’s powers without alerting anyone, ensuring the safety of the students.
It wasn’t that my parents were indifferent to the students‘ well–being; time simply wasn’t on our side. With the summer break fast approaching, Carolyn and the southern Duke would soon return to the Southern Pack. Allowing her to slip away would mean losing a crucial opportunity to apprehend her.
However, if Carolyn possessed the blood of a pure white witch, the magic circle’s effectiveness against her became questionable. Its core relied on a single strand of hair belonging to the pure white witch who had once sacrificed herself for the southern Duke. There was a fundamental rule in sorcery: those of the same kind could not harm each other.
“Don’t worry, Thelma,” my father’s steady voice reassured me over the phone. “The plan remains unchanged. Carolyn may be suspicious, but we cannot afford to panic and give her an opportunity to flee. The werewolf grandmasters have already made last–minute adjustments to the magic circle. Now, let me speak to Dorothy. There’s an essential task only she can perform.”
Dorothy, listening alongside me through shared headphones, immediately responded. “I’m here, Your Majesty. What do you need me to do?”
“My dear child,” my father began, his tone kind yet serious, “when the magic circle activates, I need you to use your prophetic ability. Don’t attempt to observe the future–focus solely on
the present. Direct your thoughts toward Carolyn’s mind, even if just for a second.”
Chart 302 Be Proud of Yourself
Dorothy’s brow furrowed. “Interfering with someone’s thoughts is dangerous, especially at witch’s. Won’t her defenses detect me?”
“That’s why you’ll need something to deceive her self–defense mechanisms,” my father explained. “You’ll use strands of hair from a pure white witch. Aldrich is delivering them to you shortly. He’ll meet you at the main gate of Sivir Academy in ten minutes.”
Dorothy hesitated. “I’ve been practicing, but I still struggle to control my abilities. What if I can’t do it?”
My father’s warm chuckle came through the line. “Dorothy, you’re not alone in this. Remember, Thelma, the werewolf grandmasters, and I are all here to support you. You are stronger than you realize. Do you recall what the werewolf master said about you? A once–in–a -century talent. Pure white witches may be rare, but so are sorcery prodigies like you. The Moon Goddess and the goddess of fate have blessed you. Trust in their gifts, and trust in yourself.”
Though visibly comforted, Dorothy still voiced her doubts. “But what if… I fail?”
“There’s no shame in failure,” my father said gently. “What matters is that you tried your best to protect others. No one will ever blame a hero for giving their all. Dorothy, no matter the outcome, always remember to be proud of yourself.”
Dorothy was silent for a moment before nodding resolutely. “I’ll do my best!”
With my father’s final instructions given, the call ended. Dorothy and I exchanged a determined glance before hurrying to the school’s entrance.
Aldrich was waiting for us when we arrived. He greeted us with a courteous bow, his every movement as polished as ever. “Good morning, Thelma, Dorothy. Her Majesty mentioned you might need this,” he said, handing me a small glass vial containing three strands of hair that shimmered like spun silk.
“Thank you,” I replied, taking the vial with care.
Aldrich didn’t linger, mindful of appearances. He needed to maintain the illusion of distance between us, particularly in the presence of others
Though our exchange was brief, the look we shared spoke volumes. As he walked away, I resisted the urge to watch him go and instead tugged Dorothy along, urging her to focus on the task at hand.
On our way back, Dorothy carefully wove the delicate strands into her hair. Thanks to the gel her stylist had used earlier, the strands blended seamlessly into her thick black locks.
The open–air boxing arena was a hive of activity. Cheers erupted from the crowd as students.
Chanda 102 Be Proud of Yoursel
enthusiastically supported their favorite players. Amidst the excitement, some enterprising individuals attempted to organize underground bets, though the teachers would inevitably put an end to their schemes.
Mara spotted us and waved wildly, her face flushed with excitement. “Where have you two been? I thought the school turned the girls‘ restroom into a labyrinth!”
I lied effortlessly, maintaining a calm expression. “We got sidetracked by a club performance on the way back and decided to watch for a bit.”
“If I h
I hadn’t spent three hours on my hair this morning,” Avril chimed in, “I’d be in the ring right now.” Her tone carried genuine regret.
Dorothy and I exchanged knowing smiles, neither of us revealing the weight of the mission looming over us. For now, the illusion of normalcy had to be maintained.
Chappl 103 A Tangled Dance
