Chapter 8: Selka, the Witch of the Endless Crossing (3)

Part 3

Rei finally opened his eyes.

The trial was over.

Or at least, that's what he thought… until he saw her.

Selka.

But she wasn't the girl from the mines.

Nor the chained adolescent.

Nor the floating shadow that had once embraced his soul in limbo.

She was a young woman—around eighteen—dressed in a long, elegant white gown, adorned with silver filigree, as if she were about to marry a god… or her own destiny.

She was alone in a vast library, beneath high ceilings and dust-stained stained glass, deep within what looked like an ancient cathedral.

Her steps were gentle, almost ceremonial, as she wandered past the shelves, scanning each spine with a disturbingly calm gaze.

No emotion.

No urgency.

Only a mind emptied of pain… and something new beginning to bloom.

"Lady Selka," said a maid from the doorway, not daring to step inside.

"The wedding will begin in ten minutes. Please prepare yourself."

And then she left.

Silence.

Selka didn't respond. She didn't even flinch but then… something shifted.

Her face.

For the first time, a new expression appeared.

Not fear.

Not sorrow.

It was curiosity.

Pure.

Radiant.

Unbound.

She reached up and took a black book from the highest shelf.

No title.

Only a single symbol, a broken spiral, pulsing with faint energy.

She sat on the central bench, opened the book, and began to flip through the pages.

Quickly.

One after another.

Without pause.

As if she already knew what she was searching for, or as if the book was being written for her in real time.

Rei watched her from some corner of that suspended world, unable to fully comprehend what he was seeing.

He could only feel it.

What no one—not even Rei—understood… Was that each page she turned wasn't just reading.

They were centuries.

Eras, compressed.

Sealed knowledge in dead languages, forbidden histories, forgotten physics, treaties of extinct gods, maps of realms yet to be discovered.

And she absorbed it all.

Without blinking.

Ten minutes for everyone else. Nearly ten thousand years for her mind.

When the final page closed, her white dress was no longer white. The silver filigree had turned black, like living ink. Her hair floated with an impossible motion, as if time itself bent around her.

And when she lifted her gaze… She was no longer Selka.

She was herself.

With a name not yet spoken.

With a purpose not yet revealed.

And Rei understood…

The Witch of the Eternal Crossing was never a victim of the past.

She was the architect of the future.

"Thank you… Yamato," Selka whispered, closing the book.

It dissolved into dark mist, which was then absorbed into her chest—melding with her soul as if it had always belonged there.

Rei, still formless, drifting like a spectator trapped between planes, felt a sharp stab deep within him.

It wasn't hatred.

It wasn't the Void.

It was surprise.

One that shattered even his coldest logic.

"Did she just say 'thank you, Yamato'...?" he murmured. "Then this… this didn't happen in the past?"

Selka, dressed in white like a heavenly bride, took a bouquet of flowers into her hands, smiling in a way no one had ever seen before. It was genuine. Radiant.

She left the library as if floating. Crossed the temple halls without looking back, until she reached the grand nave, lined in red carpet.

The altar awaited.

Rei walked beside her, invisible. His footsteps made no sound. His thoughts did.

"My wife is so beautiful…" said a man aloud.

Rei recognized him instantly.

Roland.

That same guard.

That same bastard.

Dressed in formal wear, pretending at nobility, with a wine glass in hand and a hypocritical smile on his lips.

Around him stood soldiers, nobles, and Yoru Church acolytes, all watching with the bored courtesy of those attending yet another social transaction.

None of them truly knew Selka.

To them, she was just another pretty body wrapped in obedience.

But something changed.

She reached the altar, and her eyes… They were no longer human.

For the first time, her gaze burned with a passion born of both heaven and hell.

"I want to thank you, Roland," she said, her voice soft but steady.

"If you hadn't been such a piece of shit... I wouldn't be here today."

He let out a confused chuckle.

"Is that a compliment, or are you actually thanking me?"

Selka snapped her fingers.

Every door and window in the cathedral slammed shut with a final, echoing click. The candles died out. The air changed.

Her dress began to darken—turning black like living ink, swirling as though it had a will of its own.

"If it weren't for your arrogance, I would've died in that mine... like just another filthy slave.

But thanks to you… I met the will of someone who transcends time and space."

"What are you saying?! GUARDS!" he shouted, stepping back.

Another snap.

The guards erupted in black fire.

No time to react.

Only screams.

Then the nobles.

Then the acolytes.

One by one, they fell, consumed by deep blue flames.

Only the priest remained. And Roland.

Selka turned slowly to her "groom," smiling.

"And for you, dear Roland… I have the perfect wedding gift."

"You damned bitch! I should've killed you when I had the chance!"

"What a shame."

She snapped her fingers one last time.

A portal opened before the altar—spinning like a spiral of wailing sorrow.

From it emerged black, elongated, viscous hands.

Wailing souls, laughing and pleading at once.

"I promise you a slow, painful death…"

The hands grabbed him.

Dragged him toward the abyss—amid screams, curses, and desperate cries.

"Enjoy your Eternal Crossing into Darkness…" Selka said mockingly.

"Give him lots of love, boys."

Roland vanished.

And with him, the past.

Selka rose.

The ceiling shattered into a thousand pieces as she ascended—above the church, above the kingdom—suspended between fire and sky, like a fallen angel who never asked for redemption.

"This is the power Lord Yamato granted me," she declared. "The power to purge the wicked."

A colossal magic circle formed above the kingdom.

Massive. Precise.

Inscribed with symbols that no one could read.

Selka raised one hand.

A final snap.

And the world burned.

Blue and black flames spread like a devouring sea.

The walls collapsed.

Towers imploded.

Churches were consumed by the very faith they had corrupted.

Everything turned white again.

And in a blinding flash… the world reshaped itself.

Rei opened his eyes.

He was no longer a spectator, no longer a memory, nor a drifting soul.

He was back in the dungeon.

But not as Rei—

As Yamato.

The air was heavy. The stone beneath him pulsed with an ancient echo.

The chamber was circular, monumental, etched with glowing symbols in a sickly blue.

And at the center, bound by hundreds of oil-black chains, suspended by anchors that tore through magic, stone, and flesh alike…

She waited.

Selka… The Witch of the Eternal Crossing.

"At last, we meet… Lord Yamato," she said with steady voice, unshaken by fear.

Yamato looked at her in silence.

The chains resembled roots—piercing deep through reality.

But two of the three locks surrounding her… were already broken.

Only one remained.

"So you're the real Selka," he murmured. "The Witch of the Eternal Crossing."

She nodded, calm.

"After unlocking my power… and accessing taboo magic, I was sealed here by Yoru.

Because, yes… I cannot die."

Her eyes glowed with a dangerous calm.

Not pride—certainty.

Yamato gazed at the last lock.

The smallest.

The most personal.

"Tell me, Yamato… even if I'm no longer 'pure' like your radiant executor... Would you let me travel by your side?"

He didn't answer right away.

He only lowered his head slightly.

"I've said it before. I'm no hero. I'm not a good person. I just want to watch injustice burn."

Selka smiled.

And the final lock… broke with the whisper of surrendered metal.

The chains collapsed around her like a waterfall of rusted memories.

"This world doesn't need a hero," she whispered.

"It needs people with unwavering conviction… and the will to bring about true justice."

One by one, Yamato's Heralds entered the chamber.

Seiryu, Lina, Zero, Eliza… each stood behind him, as if this moment had already been written in their fates.

Yamato extended his hand, expressionless.

"Join us… and help fix this rotten world."

Selka looked at him.

Ignored the hand.

And embraced him.

No grand words.

No tears.

Just a gesture that closed a thousand years of suffering.

"I won't let you down," she said firmly.

Then, she walked over to Lina.

The pale-haired girl watched her with quiet curiosity—and a hint of wariness.

"What do you want?"

Selka placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Just wanted to say… you've got competition. I might not be as pure as you… but I want the same thing."

Lina met her gaze without flinching.

"Hm. As long as you don't interfere with Yamato's plans… I don't mind a little competition."

"Didn't expect anything less," Selka smiled.

She turned to the rest of the Heralds and bowed respectfully.

"I look forward to working with you. And if we're lucky… we just might defeat Yoru himself."

Silence.

Then, Eliza's soft laugh.

Seiryu's cold nod.

Zero's silent approval.

A new piece had entered the board. And the game… had only just begun.