Chapter 178 MILDRED'S RESILIENCE

Chapter 178 MILDRED'S RESILIENCE
Chapter 178

MILDRED'S RESILIENCE
THE WITCH POV

After helping Marcella absorb most of the twins’ power, I observed them lying there, drained, their cries silent, their small bodies barely trembling. Any moment now, they might slip from this world, their life force vanishing like water through a sieve. I shivered, not out of fear but because I knew the stakes were far from over. Marcella was about to make Mildred’s life a living nightmare. And yet, a strange sense of unease stirred in me.

Marcella was confident, yes, perhaps overconfident. But Mildred… there was something about her, something intangible that I could sense even from my hidden corner by the door. Mildred wasn’t weak. Not by any means. Even drained, she carried a reserve of strength that was quiet but formidable. I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued. She wasn’t just surviving; she was calculating, waiting, letting Marcella exhaust herself, allowing her opponent to make the first mistake.

I watched as Marcella prowled around the room like a predator, her aura vibrating with stolen energy, her every move exaggerated with arrogance. And Mildred—despite being pummeled, thrown, and beaten down by raw, unrestrained power—kept rising. Every time she stumbled, her eyes flared with defiance. Every time she was struck, she grounded herself, her stance unbroken.

It wasn’t motherly love driving her—not here, not now. Her children weren’t even near her. No, this was something else. This was raw, innate power. A wolf hiding her true strength, biding her time until it was finally revealed. And it was magnificent to witness. The restraint, the patience, the quiet fury… I wondered if Marcella had miscalculated entirely. What if Mildred had always been extraordinary? What if she had never revealed the depth of her abilities because she simply chose not to?

Marcella’s attacks grew more desperate, more violent. And still, Mildred endured. Every strike landed, every projectile hurled at her chest, shoulders, and legs, was met with defiance. I could see the precision in her movements, the quick, subtle shifts that kept her alive. Even unconscious, she was dangerous. Even when beaten, she had a plan.

\---

Marcella POV

“I feel it—enraged, watching her trying to stand against me,” I shouted, voice echoing across the stone chamber. “She doesn’t even realize how much power I’ve absorbed from the twins! With all that energy, she should already be crawling, begging for mercy!”

Mildred tried to attack again, a feeble attempt, but I blurred at her back, the stolen energy coursing through my veins. I struck, each punch aimed to weaken her further, to force her to her knees. I could feel the thrill of dominance coursing through me. Every hit, every jolt, every suppression of her power was intoxicating.

I glanced at the old witch, who was observing with an almost clinical detachment.

“You’re watching the little drama unfold, right? Look at how powerful I am. Why doesn’t she just give up?” I bellowed.

She shrugged, almost casually. “I don’t know. She’s… resilient, perhaps more than you expected. Maybe you should end it now. Deliver one decisive blow, tie her up, and focus on the twins. If she regains her strength, or if anyone else intervenes… it could get complicated.”

I nodded, agreeing outwardly but inwardly frustrated. “Fine, whatever. Just deal with her. Give her the final blow.”

Mildred rose again, shaking off the blow I had just delivered. She tried to find her stance, steady herself, and I realized in that moment how dangerous she could be if I underestimated her. I inhaled deeply, drawing in every ounce of stolen power, preparing for the strike that would finally subdue her.

And yet… when I attacked with all my might, sending a surge of energy to pin her down, she did not collapse entirely. She staggered, gasping, faltering under the weight of my power, but then she drew herself back up, resilience flashing in her eyes.

I glanced at the witch, confusion and irritation bubbling.

“Pick her up, tie her again, make it good,” I ordered.

The witch approached cautiously, muttering under her breath. “She’s remarkable. Even with everything you’ve done, she finds a way to draw upon her strength. Continuously.”

“Why?” I demanded, my voice sharp with impatience.

The witch paused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “It’s not just the twins’ power. She has her own reserves. Hidden, yes—but potent. If you try to forcefully extract everything, you might overextend yourself. Her power is not just energy; it’s… essence. And essence like that is dangerous.”

I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Don’t you see the obvious? She’s extraordinarily powerful. That’s why I struggle to defeat her. Every time I try, she counters, she survives, she rebounds. I need her power. All of it. I don’t care how much I have to push, how far I have to go.”

The witch shook her head, smiling faintly, almost indulgently. “It’s not that easy. The twins’ power is immense, yes. But she’s carrying power too. Your body cannot contain both hers and the energy you’ve already absorbed. You could kill yourself before you even get her fully subdued.”

I ignored her warning. “It doesn’t matter. I want it. Everything. I will do whatever it takes.”

She raised her hands in surrender. “Be careful. If you push too far, you might lose control. Let her be… for now.”

\---

I turned back to the room where Mildred lay unconscious—or so I thought. My patience waned, and I needed control. She was a variable I couldn’t afford. I wanted her contained, broken, and harnessed. I approached the witch, urgency in my steps.

“Is there a way to get everything? To attack her on my terms? To control her fully?” I asked, gripping the witch’s hands, eyes burning.

The witch paused, thoughtful, then nodded slowly. “Yes. There is a method. A ritual, a binding spell. You could take control of her mind, her movements, even her power. But it comes at a cost. It requires focus, discipline, and a connection deeper than you’ve ever maintained with any magic source.”

“I don’t care,” I hissed. “I need it. I want it. Show me how.”

She smirked faintly, beginning to chant under her breath, her voice low and melodic, weaving threads of energy that shimmered in the air between us. The room vibrated with raw, untamed power as the initial steps of the ritual began. I could feel Mildred stirring, her senses sharpening, her eyes fluttering open. She hissed, and I could see the rage in her gaze.

The witch’s voice rose, a chant building the magical scaffolding to control her. Energy swirled, circling Mildred like a storm. And yet… even as the magic tightened its grip, Mildred fought. Her eyes flared, her aura shimmering with defiance. Every ounce of strength she possessed, hidden and raw, pushed against the bindings.

I took a deep breath, channeling every fragment of power I had. I felt the twins’ stolen energy thrumming in my veins, a chaotic, potent storm, and I combined it with the witch’s magic. Mildred shrieked, throwing back her head, claws raking the air, resisting me, resisting the binding.

And in that moment, I realized something dangerous. Her resilience wasn’t just stubbornness. It was experience, discipline, and something primal. A wolf’s instinct refined over years. She was not just strong; she was intelligent, tactical, and utterly unyielding.

The witch’s voice faltered, almost in awe. “Her power… it’s like nothing I’ve seen. Even restrained, she resists… it’s as if she anticipated this. She’s… extraordinary.”

I gritted my teeth, fury and awe clashing inside me. “I don’t care. I will control her. I will take her power. She will not defy me.”

The next hour was a battle of wills. Every magical tug I made, every strand of control I tried to impose, was met with resistance. Mildred’s aura flared again and again, pulses of raw energy forcing me to step back, recalibrate, strike again. She clawed, struck, hissed, and every time she did, I felt the twins’ stolen energy react unpredictably, surging within me in ways I had not expected.

It was maddening. Exhilarating. Terrifying. And yet, I could not allow her to succeed.

\---

Mildred’s resilience became almost poetic in its intensity. She moved, countered, struck with precision I hadn’t anticipated. She was a storm contained within a body, a force of nature unleashed not by power stolen or borrowed, but by sheer will and intelligence. Each time I thought I had subdued her, she rose again. Each time I tried to dominate her, she found a way to destabilize me, to force me to overreach.

The witch whispered under her breath, almost to herself. “If she continues like this… she may overwhelm you. She’s not just surviving—she’s adapting, evolving. And every surge she produces, she draws more from within herself than you can imagine.”

I laughed bitterly, my pride mingling with desperation. “I will not fail. I will break her. I will control her.”

The room shook with energy, the air thick with magic and raw emotion. We were locked in a battle of wills, of power and determination, and for the first time, I truly understood the depth of Mildred’s strength. She wasn’t just resisting—she was teaching me, showing me the limits of borrowed power, the folly of arrogance, and the terrifying potential of one who refuses to be broken.

I realized that tonight would not be simple. She would not be broken easily. And if I underestimated her, I might lose everything—not just the power I craved,
but control, pride, and perhaps even my own life.

And yet, I could not stop. I would not.