Fairy Tale Survival with Ability Copying

Deep within the dense forest.

Amid a swirl of mist, a magical castle slowly emerged, like a slumbering beast devouring every ray of light bold enough to approach.

Inside the castle, shrouded by a barrier of black fog, a witch with a gaunt face and an unusually plump body was making her way down the staircase leading to a hidden chamber.

The air was thick with a strange mixture of herbs, sulfur, and rotting wood.

Each of the witch's footsteps echoed dully across the stone floor, as though the castle itself were breathing in hushed whispers.

The hidden chamber lay in the deepest corner of the castle's lowest level, sealed behind a massive gate of black stone.

Its surface was carved with intricate, unsettling patterns that intertwined like countless venomous snakes writhing over one another.

At the center of the gate was a black crystal. Its surface was covered in cracks, yet it still emitted a faint, ghostly glow.

The old witch came to a stop and raised a withered finger, gently touching the black crystal. She stared at it without moving for several long minutes before finally coming back to herself. Then, in a low voice, she softly uttered a single word.

"Gorgon."

Her voice was hoarse and low, like a whisper rising from the depths of hell. As the word left her lips, the cracks across the black crystal gradually lit up with a dark crimson glow. The heavy stone gate slowly swung inward with a long, grating creeeak... creeeak..., as though a beast that had slept for a thousand years had finally opened its eyes.

The chamber beyond was even colder than the rest of the castle. Its chill resembled the icy touch of wave-battered sea rocks, cold enough to freeze one's very soul. Bone-piercing frost spread upward from the floor, enough to send shivers down anyone's spine.

The chamber itself was not large. Its walls were built from black stone engraved with ancient runes and mysterious patterns. The runes pulsed with a faint red light, as though whispering secrets that were both ancient and profoundly evil.

Standing at the center of the chamber were two statues, each roughly the height of a person.

Both depicted women with serpents for hair, just like the legendary Gorgon sisters.

The figure on the left was tall and regal. Her bronze skin gleamed with a cold metallic sheen beneath the dim light. A pair of enormous golden wings spread from her back, their razor-sharp tips looking capable of tearing the heavens apart at any moment. Her hair consisted of countless golden serpents, each so lifelike that their forked tongues flicked in and out. Two crimson gemstones formed her eyes, radiating savage brutality. Both hands gripped a staff coiled with venomous snakes, its tip crowned by a hideous skull whose eye sockets glowed with the same crimson light. A faint smile curled her lips, exposing sharp fangs. Her expression was one of contempt and cruelty, as though every living thing in the world were nothing more than insignificant insects before her.

She was Stheno, the eldest of the three Gorgon sisters.

The woman on the right possessed a slender, supple figure. Her skin was as pale as snow that had never seen sunlight. The membranes of her wings were a dark violet, covered in countless fine scales that shimmered with an eerie luster. Her hair was made of innumerable silver serpents coiled around her shoulders and neck. Their eyes were icy silver, giving off an air of solitude and indifference. Her arms hung naturally at her sides, her fingertips ending in claws as sharp as talons, their bluish-black nails glinting coldly as though they could tear solid rock apart with a casual swipe. Her expression remained calm and emotionless. Only her silver eyes seemed capable of piercing through everything, seeing every darkness and every sin in existence.

She was Euryale, the second of the three Gorgon sisters.

The youngest sister, Medusa, was nowhere to be seen.

Because Medusa was already dead.

That was why the secret cult devoted to the Gorgon sisters never erected a statue of Medusa. Doing so would incur the wrath of Stheno and Euryale.

Yes—the old witch who had cursed Miss Odelle into becoming a nightingale and lived within the magical castle was a member of that secret cult devoted to the Gorgon sisters. The cult's greatest specialty was controlling serpents and casting petrification magic, something made abundantly clear by the countless stone statues standing outside the castle.

Of course, that wasn't the main reason so many people worshipped the Gorgon sisters.

The true reason was Their Power of Immortality.

With the sole exception of the youngest sister, Medusa, the Gorgon sisters were immortal. They possessed eternal life and could extend the lifespan of their followers by granting them Their blood.

That was why, despite remaining a relatively obscure cult, it had endured for countless years without fading away.

After all... who could resist the temptation of immortality?

It might not be true immortality, but at the very least, it granted an extraordinarily long life.

The old witch herself was living proof.

On the outside, she appeared to be seventy or eighty years old, as though she already had one foot in the grave.

But who would have guessed that she had already lived for six or seven centuries—outliving even the Mermaid Prince, despite belonging to a race with far shorter natural lifespans?

Even so, despite all those centuries, the old witch's strength had never advanced beyond that of a Fourth-Ring Wizard.

After all, even the Gorgon sisters she served were not true gods.

But that didn't matter.

As long as the Gorgon sisters allowed her to keep living...

...that alone was enough.

That alone was enough to keep the old witch offering sacrifices to Them again and again!

Her gaze fell upon the base of the two statues, where a black stone altar stood. Its surface was covered in dark crimson stains—the blood left behind by years of sacrifices. At the center of the altar sat a bronze bowl filled with a dark red liquid that gave off a pungent stench of blood and sulfur.

Two black candles burned on either side of the altar. Their flames were an eerie blue-green and gave off no warmth whatsoever. Instead, they radiated a bone-chilling cold. As the flames flickered, they cast the shadows of the two statues across the walls, twisted and terrifying, as though they might crawl out at any moment and devour everything.

The old witch slowly walked up to the altar and stopped.

She lowered her head slightly and pressed her palms together. Her already hunched body bent even farther, while an expression of devout fanaticism spread across her face. A strange light flickered in her cloudy eyes.

She took a deep breath. The smell of blood and sulfur flooded her nostrils, drawing a faint smile of satisfaction from her.

Then she raised her withered hands and began to pray in a low voice. Her prayer was hoarse, deep, and incomprehensible, yet it carried a feverish intensity that made the heart tremble. It echoed throughout the cramped chamber, intertwining with the faint glow of the runes on the walls to form an eerie and sinister atmosphere.

As the old witch prayed, the blood inside the offering bowl began to bubble and gurgle, rapidly diminishing.

The blue-green candlelight cast a strange and horrifying scene across the wall. Two women with serpents for hair flicked their forked tongues as they devoured the blood from the offering bowl.

Before long, every last drop of blood in the bowl had vanished.

The terrifying shadows on the wall disappeared with it.

The old witch stood there in silence for a while. What she had expected to happen did not occur.

It was both unexpected and entirely within her expectations.

A trace of disappointment flashed deep within her eyes.

The Gorgon sisters were growing weaker and weaker, and Their gifts were becoming increasingly meager.

Under normal circumstances, after taking the offering she had so carefully prepared, the Gorgon sisters would at least bestow a single drop of Their Blood of Immortality upon her!

But the Gorgon sisters had done no such thing.

Across her last ten sacrifices, the Gorgon sisters had granted her only a single drop of Their Blood of Immortality.

That could only slow her aging. Death still followed close behind her like a shadow.

The old witch knew that this was both a sign of the Gorgon sisters' weakness and an expression of Their dissatisfaction.

She knew perfectly well what the Gorgon sisters wanted!

They wanted divinity!

Only an offering of divinity could please Them.

And among all forms of divinity, the Sea God's Divinity was what They desired most.

This was not only because the Gorgon sisters and the Sea God's Divinity shared the same origin, making it relatively easy for Them to absorb. More importantly, the Gorgon sisters hated the Sea God. They hated the god who had violated Their younger sister Medusa and ultimately caused her death—the Sea God, Poseidon!

The old witch had once had a chance to obtain the Sea God's Divinity!

That had been many years ago—several centuries ago, in fact.

Back then, the Gorgon sisters had not yet become so weak. They had given her guidance: the Sea God's Divinity had found its way onto land, where it was absorbed by humans, resulting in the birth of two Golden Children.

After learning this, the old witch cast a spell that caused one of the Golden Children to dream that he had hunted a magnificent stag!

After waking, the Golden Child became obsessed with the dream. Ignoring his wife's attempts to stop him, he entered the forest to hunt and was eventually lured to the old witch. Using a casual excuse, she turned him into a stone statue.

In theory, she could have offered the petrified Golden Child directly to the Gorgon sisters then and there. By doing so, she could have earned Their favor and received a generous reward.

But... the old witch became greedy.

The Sea God's Divinity had been divided into six portions.

She had only obtained one-sixth of it.

The old witch was not satisfied.

So instead of immediately sacrificing the petrified Golden Child, she kept him as bait to lure the other Golden Child to her.

The second Golden Child received a revelation and immediately rode over on his Golden Horse.

But he was far more cautious than his brother and never entered the trap she had prepared.

After all, a Golden Child who possessed one-sixth of the Sea God's Divinity was no weakling.

Because he refused to enter the trap, the old witch was unable to deal with him. Not only was she severely injured, but the petrified Golden Child was rescued as well, leaving her to spend a very long time recovering from her wounds.

If she could turn back time, the old witch would never make the same choice again.

But time could not be turned back!

Fortunately, time could still grant her another opportunity.

And now, that opportunity had finally arrived.

The Golden Children from back then had long since died—because the old witch had realized early on that they were merely hosts for the Sea God's Divinity. They did not possess the ability to fully absorb it.

Therefore, the two Golden Children were destined to die eventually, while the Sea God's Divinity within them would be passed down through their bloodline, generation after generation.

However, this meant that the Sea God's Divinity would remain dormant within the descendants of the Golden Children. Their descendants would appear no different from ordinary people, unlike their ancestors, whose entire bodies had shone like gold, making it obvious at a glance that they were no ordinary people.

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I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> /TitoVillar

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