"Madison, there's something I need to tell you."
The door swung open, yet Ruboo, who hadn't rushed inside, turned his head, his expression turning serious.
Madison, busy touching up her makeup, didn't even look up. "What is it? That I shouldn't tell your Black Widow girlfriend we've been seeing each other? Don't worry, it won't be long before I've got her willingly on board."
"That's good... Wait!"
Ruboo, nearly sidetracked, quickly composed his eager expression and resumed his serious tone. "That's not what I meant. Madison, once we return, it would be best not to tell anyone else about your newly awakened abilities—especially Fiona."
Hearing this, Madison finally lowered the mirror and looked up, puzzled. "Why?"
She had been looking forward to showing off her new abilities to the other witches.
Ruboo explained bluntly: "Every generation of Salem witches produces a Supreme Witch. The old pass away, the new ascend. But the transition between Supreme Witches is far from peaceful. The newly born young Supreme Witch will accelerate the absorption of the previous Supreme Witch's magical power until the latter dies."
"Consider this: what would the outgoing Supreme Witch think, witnessing her own vitality steadily drain away? If she accepted her fate, that would be one thing. But what if she clung to earthly attachments, dreading death?"
"What thoughts would she harbour towards the source of her own decline? What actions might she take?"
Madison's expression darkened.
Having grown up in Hollywood's environment, where a blank sheet of paper would inevitably turn black, she had grasped society's harsh realities earlier than most her age.
Projecting her own nature onto others, she replied thoughtfully, "If I were the Supreme Witch, I would eliminate the next heir to halt my own decline."
Ruboo remarked meaningfully, "Consider Fiona. Her own daughter, Cordelia, reveals much about her attitude. Therefore, Madison, do not reveal your gift. If absolutely necessary, you could disclose your heart murmurs."
After all, we know each other well.
To prevent Madison from being identified as the next High Witch by Fiona, as had happened in the original timeline, and thus suffering a gruesome death by throat-slitting, Ruboo sought to intervene.
Madison clearly took the advice to heart.
She nodded solemnly, then asked, somewhat puzzled, "What does this have to do with a heart murmur?"
Ruboo wasn't surprised by her reaction. After all, they'd been together for some time now, and she hadn't hidden it from him, occasionally checking her heartbeat with a device.
Ruboo looked at her, paused, then said, "Those destined to become Supreme Witches always possess perfect health. There are no exceptions."
Madison froze.
Several seconds passed before she clenched her jaw and spat, "Bloody hell!"
This revelation struck her like a thunderbolt, given her ambition to become the Supreme Witch.
"Is that really true? How do you know all this?" she pressed, her voice tinged with reluctance.
Ruboo replied casually, "I just browse the academy's library collection. I'm rather interested in the history of witches."
Knowing Ruboo wouldn't deliberately deceive her, Madison fell silent.
"Broaden your horizons, Madison. Remember, this world isn't solely about the Salem witches. Just because you won't become the Supreme Witch doesn't mean you can't grow stronger. Hasn't the magic within you been surging rapidly all this time?"
Ruboo looked at Madison.
Through his spiritual perception, he could detect that over these past three days, the witch's power within Madison had been escalating at a rocket-like pace.
Clearly, this adventure had accelerated the awakening and development of her witch bloodline.
Ruboo couldn't help but feel a pang of envy.
But then, he possessed no wizard bloodline.
"Witch, with spirits already emerging, who knows what other strange legends might surface next. Perhaps a cure for your physiological heart murmur could be found. Or you might learn even greater powers beyond witchcraft," Ruboo offered consolation.
"I'll take your word for it. If such a stroke of luck comes along, remember to call me," Madison said, calming her emotions. "Also, thanks for the warning."
"My pleasure."
Ruboo replied before driving into the estate grounds.
There, Cordelia, Zoe, Queenie, Nan, and a plump middle-aged woman in a maid's uniform were already waiting.
"Ruboo, I'm so glad you're safe!"
The moment Ruboo stepped out of the car, he was enveloped in a warm embrace—Zoe, who couldn't wait another moment.
Beside them, Madison, who had also stepped out of the car, her heavy expression now concealed, first glanced at Zoe throwing herself passionately into Ruboo's embrace. Then, noticing the unfamiliar maid in the household, her eyes lit up as she interrupted their affection:
"Only a few days have passed, and already there's another maid? Ruboo, looks like you're about to be out of a job."
Hearing this, Ruboo—still feeling slightly awkward about their public display of affection—patted Zoe's back, set her down, and replied with a smile: "If that were the case, I'd be rather pitiful. Headmistress Cordelia, surely you wouldn't actually dismiss me?"
"Of course not," Cordelia smiled. "Delphi was merely an accident. There will always be a place for you here, Ruboo."
"That's a relief."
Ruboo visibly relaxed, his gaze sweeping over the sullen-faced Delphi.
This plump woman was none other than Mrs. Lallouri, cursed by a voodoo witch to live for over two hundred years.
Ruboo thought to himself that he'd gladly take a dozen such curses—immortality that made you impossible to kill.
"Come inside," Cordelia urged. "A proper welcome feast awaits you. And while you're at it, tell everyone about the whole process of dealing with the evil spirit."
Ruboo and Madison nodded, following the others inside before launching into a vivid, exaggerated account of their harrowing battle against the malevolent spirit.
...
Thousands of miles away.
Just as Ruboo was boasting of his glorious exploits to a gathering of witchy homebodies.
Alpina County, Green Town.
Though Heather had been confined, and the night brought no more howls or footsteps.
Three days proved too brief.
Despite lingering doubts, those remaining in Green Town maintained a necessary vigilance and apprehension.
The town remained as desolate as ever.
It was into this environment that three black SUVs drove in, heading straight for the cemetery where Heather lay buried.
The doors swung open.
Led by two men in black suits, a ten-person squad clad in black combat gear, armed to the teeth yet bearing no department insignia, disembarked and retrieved what appeared to be sophisticated high-tech equipment.
Five minutes later, an armed operative monitoring the instrument screens declared, "No paranormal entity detected."
The lead man in the suit uttered a soft "Hmm," then turned to his companion.
The latter understood immediately, swiftly unlocking the heavily secured silver briefcase he carried. He retrieved the sole ancient compass within, poured a 100ml vial of blood onto it, and asked:
"Where is Heather Neimark?"
Instantly, the compass needle began spinning frantically.
One minute, two minutes...
As the compass continued its dizzying spin, piercing screams echoed from within. Without further hesitation, he hastily returned the device to the briefcase, sealed it tightly. Once the screams ceased, he exhaled in relief. "It appears Heather Neimark is still alive, but she has departed this location."
The leader in the suit nodded. "Ordinary malevolent spirits do not stray far from their host's vicinity. Clearly, someone has taken it away."
"Should we track down that person?"
"Not necessary. Whatever his purpose, he'll eventually need to use it—or be used by it. This saves us the trouble."
"But—"
"No buts. Are you one of those do-gooders from the Salvation Sect?"
"...No."
"Well, that's rather convenient. Let it play out there a while longer. It'll save us from getting our hands dirty."