I Refused To Be Reincarnated
Chapter 694: Stitch No More

Chapter 694: Stitch No More

"Me?" The girl’s bright pink eyes widened.

She had always avoided watching her reflection when drawing water from the lake. This morning was no exception. It just... haunted her to see what she had become—a hideous monster of blisters and stitches that plagued her dreams, awakening her in the dead of the night, sweating, in pain.

Even before the witch’s experiment turned her into that monster, her beauty was barely above average for a child. However, her rare yellow hair and pink eyes did make her stand out slightly. Still, not enough compared to those merchants’ daughters, draped in fancy dresses or these cultivator fairies with unblemished skin everyone spoke about.

So, who was this charming child reflected by the ice mirror?

She moved her small hand to her face tentatively before she froze. Scrutinising the perfect skin, she snapped her gaze to her arms, where the horrible stitches were.

"Gone..." A choked whisper escaped her lips as she ran her palm over her skin. It was so smooth, so supple, almost like touching the surface of a polished vase. And the reflection... followed her movements. Was it really her? How?

A surge of excitement coursed through her veins. No pain, no discomfort—if it was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up, at least not before enjoying it a little more. Yes, that must be it. There was no way a teenager could kill the dreaded Witch of the West and turn her into a beauty in a brief minute. And since it was, she didn’t need to hold back anymore.

As soon as the thought blossomed, she snatched the ice mirror from Adam’s hand. Her hair swayed like brilliant strands of silk as she crouched and scrutinised her face. She pinched her thin nose, poked her tender cheeks, and lined her red lips with her finger.

Everything was perfect, even a little too much. The merchants’ daughters she had envied seemed dull in comparison!

Did the ugly scars on her chest and sides disappear too?

Delighted by her prettiness and eager to find out, she gripped her ragged tunic and pulled. However, the moment it reached her belly button, a firm hand pulled it down, and a slightly panicked voice echoed.

"Ahem... You can’t do that in front of a man..."

She watched the murderer—no, her savior’s twitching brow—amusement blossoming amidst the wonder. He didn’t look that scary anymore, especially when he sighed in relief after she puffed her cheeks and nodded.

"Anyway, how old are you? And what’s your name?" Adam released her tunic.

She took a moment to calm her excitement, then tilted her head. "I... started to work for the witch a few weeks after turning six. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Oh, and my name is..."

She paused, almost answering ’Stitch’. The witch had called her that for so long that even rummaging through her memories wasn’t enough to remember how her parents had called her.

Her eyes blurred, she trembled, and her voice came out in a choked sob. "I-I don’t know..."

"It’s alright." He wrapped a hand behind her back, the other beneath her knees, and raised her. She gasped in surprise before he placed her on his shoulders and continued. "We can ask your parents while I cure them."

Feeling his smooth, sky blue hair as she grabbed his head, she sighed. "It doesn’t matter if you heal them in a dream. I don’t even know if you’re real, but still... I’m glad I’ve met a good cultivator." She closed her eyes, biting her lip and whispering. "It’s time to wake up—to become Stitch again."

However, her eyes snapped wide the next second. Her hands moved to cover her forehead, and a grunt escaped her lips. "Ouch."

She glared at Adam’s fingers reproachfully. Why did he flick her forehead out of nowhere? But she froze when he spoke again.

"Can you feel pain in your dreams?" An amused grin curved his lips. He held the girl’s legs and stepped out of the cottage, the sun’s rays warming their skins and the fresh wind blowing the forest’s musty scent into their noses. "Can you feel nature in your dreams? Me, your body, the witch’s death—everything is real. Now, tell me where your parents live. I’m sure they’re as impatient as you are to reunite after so long."

A shudder ran down her spine. It was real?! Did she... pout and glare at a powerful cultivator? A blush crept onto her cheeks as she lowered her head in shame. Then, she pointed south, stuttering. "O-Our village is in that direction. I accompanied the witch for five days before we reached her house."

"It won’t take us that long." Adam nodded, yet glared at the cottage.

With a wave of his hand, Lulu emerged from his soul sea and bolted inside. In seconds, she recorded all the witch’s grimoires.

Adam saw the deep furrow creasing her brows before she vanished. This was cursed knowledge. But as disgusting as it was, it held value as a reference. Still, he’d ensure no one ever inherited it again. There were so many paths toward power, so why must they choose those darker ones?

He walked across the multicolored garden, reaching the forest’s shade. Then, he snapped his fingers.

Mana ignited in the cottage, bursting into a raging fire that licked the wooden planks, crawled onto the walls, and devoured the ceiling. The numerous tunics, mementoes of the witch’s victims, caught fire, followed by the parchments strewn on the table and the grimoires hidden beneath the floor.

His flames devoured everything they met, melting the dirty cauldron that had disgusted him before spreading outside.

Soon, the garden went up in dark smoke, and the cottage’s ashes drifted into the wind. Yet, the forest’s fertile soil remained unblemished, untouched by the devastating magic until he cancelled it.

The girl picked up the smell and faintly heard the crackle despite the distance. She gazed back, her lips quivering. This place of horror was gone. Now she could banish its somber memory and replace it with warm ones.

"Thank you..." She muttered, her hands tightening around Adam’s hair. "You didn’t tell me your name."

"You didn’t ask for it either." He smirked, his body flickering. "I’m Adam, but today, I’m the big brother who’ll grant your wishes."

As his words faded, they blinked several dozen kilometers south. They reappeared on a dirt road snaking alongside vegetable fields and a river.

"Ah!" The girl leaned over his shoulders, pointing a trembling finger at a small village. "How did we reach it already?!"

"Magic." Adam stepped toward the village.

Chuckling, he summoned a leather pouch from his spatial ring, ten middling-grade spiritual stones clinking as he strapped it to his belt. Though a valuable sum—twenty thousand normal spiritual stones—it wasn’t much to him, even quite useless. But it would be his departing gift to the girl—a way to ensure she would never be concerned with money and live happily with her parents.

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AN: Who sees it coming

AN2: Subs are really low: 22, 28, 12, 8, 15, 6-> around 4.55 dollars in 6 days. If it continues, I’ll have no other choice but to put the story on hiatus, which is quite sad since I’m enjoying writing this arc. Of course, I’m grateful to those who still read it.

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