Chapter 40: The Story Begins

After the White Witch and the giant wolf left, Ino returned to his room with nothing to do.

Being trapped in the castle, with no worries about food or drink, all he had to do was tell one story a day and keep the White Witch happy.

But thinking about how she always got emotional—sometimes melancholy, sometimes ecstatic—because of the stories, made him feel genuinely exhausted.

That wasn't the worst part; he could handle the minor irritations.

What he truly feared was an ending like "One Thousand and One Nights," where the storyteller is killed when they run out of stories to tell.

...

Returning to his room alone.

Ino picked up "Practical Household Magic" and started reading again.

You have to strengthen yourself; after all, all the unwillingness and lack of freedom stem from one's own weakness.

Interestingly, it seemed that many people in the Fantasy world didn't care much about power, treating magic more as a tool for life rather than a means of living.

Take "Practical Household Magic," for example. Clearly a treasure of a book, yet it was severely underestimated, often left on the top shelf of the library, untouched.

Even the few readers were likely housewives and stay-at-home moms.

Though the book wasn't well-regarded, Ino didn't look down on it at all.

Three months is neither short nor long.

In about a hundred days and nights, he had become proficient in all sorts of cooking techniques... no, he had mastered all sorts of spells for cooking and daily chores.

From cooking on the stove to household tasks, he was now adept at various spells, much stronger than he had been three months ago.

After all... whether it's slicing vegetables or peeling apples, magic doesn't care what the object is. Replace the vegetables and fruits with people, and it works just the same.

...

Time flies when you're focused.

Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye.

Just as Ino was about to practice peeling a lobster, a rapid knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

He got up and opened the door, unsurprised to see an old acquaintance—the former dwarf coachman, Simon.

"Guest! Starting tomorrow, you don't need to go to the garden on schedule. Everything else remains the same. If you need anything else, just come to me."

Simon brought the White Witch's new instructions.

This was good news, but also news that required caution.

After Simon left, Ino went to the window.

Outside the castle seemed unusually lively. In the afterglow of the sunset, shadows were scattered all over the ice field—wolves, hyenas, vultures...

Clearly, the curtain of Narnia had been drawn, and the White Witch had no time for stories anymore.

But faced with such an epic story, he knew he could do nothing. Even being a spectator seemed out of reach.

A sense of powerlessness welled up inside him.

As a storyteller, he couldn't be there to witness the story unfold, which was a great irony.

...

Days passed one after another.

Narnia quietly changed—the sky, the earth, the mountains, the rivers... all were silently transforming.

Meanwhile, outside the castle, more and more creatures gathered.

Initially, there were only scouts like wolves and vultures, but now there were minotaurs wielding giant axes, strong polar bears, even twenty-foot-tall cyclops...

Not counting those arriving gradually, the ice field was already a dense, endless mass.

It seemed the White Witch was gathering all the troops she could command.

Compared to the turmoil outside, Ino's room remained peaceful.

Except for going to the dining hall on schedule, he stayed in his room practicing magic, unaffected by the chaos outside.

However, this tranquility didn't last long.

On the dawn of the seventh day, the dwarf knocked on his door again.

...

The castle garden.

Ino saw the White Witch after a long time. She seemed more majestic than before, exuding a suffocating sharpness.

"Good day, Your Majesty," Ino greeted softly.

But he was met with silence.

The White Witch sat quietly in her chair, not turning to look at him, staring at the only flower in the garden, seemingly indifferent to everything around her.

After some time, the ice-blue rose had become even more crystal-clear.

Seeing she didn't want to talk, Ino sat quietly beside her. If she didn't want to talk, neither would he. In terms of silence, he wasn't afraid of anyone.

Time seemed to stand still. In the vast garden, the two remained motionless like ice sculptures.

After a long while.

"Spring is coming to Narnia... the snow is melting, the rivers are awakening!"

The White Witch's voice was as cold as ever.

Ino didn't rashly respond, maintaining his silence.

After all, the more critical the moment, the less he should speak. Silence was the best answer.

After a brief silence, the White Witch continued speaking to herself:

"For hundreds of years, you are the first to live in the castle unscathed..."

Hearing this, Ino felt an urge to run away immediately. After all, the hundreds of living statues in the dining hall were no joke. Who knew if she might suddenly say, "You can't break the tradition..."

Just as he was mentally mapping out escape routes, the White Witch's next words made him breathe a sigh of relief, finally putting his mind at ease.

"Do you know why? Because you are the only one who neither opposes nor flatters me, which I find very interesting. Of course, you didn't disappoint me either. The stories you've told since then have been very interesting and wonderful."

"Thank you for your praise and recognition, Your Majesty," Ino responded softly.

Such is the art of language: remain silent when you should, respond when you must.

"Although the stories are wonderful, I want to say that you don't need to change the original storylines to please me. Tragedies cannot become comedies. Forcing a reversal only results in awkwardness."

With that, the White Witch turned her head, quietly gazing at the sky.

"Is it out of fear? If so, you needn't be. If I wanted to harm you, I would have done so long ago!"

Though her tone was calm, it carried an undeniable authority.

"Moreover, with your half-baked tricks, you have no chance to resist, and you know it well. Even if fate favors you and you can perform a trick or two."

On the other side.

Faced with this sudden confrontation, Ino found it difficult to respond.

He wanted to flatter her, but those calm, indifferent eyes made all his lies vanish.

The deep, star-like pupils made it hard for anyone to lie.

After three months together, the White Witch felt incredibly unfamiliar at this moment.

It seemed she wasn't as he thought—a literary young woman easy to fool. Rather, she appeared as a wise observer, understanding everything and quietly watching everyone's performance.

"Your wisdom is admirable, Your Majesty," Ino sincerely exclaimed.

This time, he was truly grateful. Grateful that the White Witch was a fairy tale villain, not a traditional villain.

"Hahaha..." The White Witch unexpectedly laughed out loud.

Her bell-like laughter echoed through the castle garden, strangely pleasant.

Moments later, the laughter subsided.

"Go! Leave here, leave the castle, go wherever you want."