That night.
Lan Qingyou stopped working on the armor she was supposed to be making.
Then she sat there quietly and waited.
Once midnight passed, it would have been a full year since she and Alisa had traveled a thousand years into the past.
She did not know whether her soul would be repaired.
But she chose to wait anyway.
If a year had been enough to repair her soul...
Then she would have to leave.
After all, this was not her own time.
Even if she was doing well here.
Even if this world's world will had acknowledged her existence.
It still was not where she belonged.
And although she was a hands-off leader...
She still worried about the Black Witches under her command.
After all, when she had traveled back in time, the Black Witches had built a teleportation platform together with the White Witches.
And they had successfully landed on the Old Karim Continent.
That place had beings that even she and Alisa together could not handle.
If they ran into one, they might not be completely wiped out, but heavy casualties would be inevitable.
Of course.
Most importantly, that was her home turf.
Or rather, only those ruins were worth destroying.
Otherwise, what was the point of her title, "Witch of the Tower"?
Tick—
Tock—
The clock in the workshop kept ticking.
When the clock struck twelve, Lan Qingyou immediately checked her soul.
It had healed!
It really had healed!
But it had not healed completely.
The wound had only been the size of a fingernail to begin with.
Now, a portion the size of a grain of rice had healed.
Perhaps not even a tenth of it.
In other words, a year really could allow her soul to recover.
But it was not enough to