—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
As Valian descended the narrow path, he saw Bervira at a distance from the fallen ghouls, holding the horse’s reins. Bervira noticed Valian approaching.
“L-Lord, did you kill her?”
“Yes, I took care of her.”
Bervira’s eyes turned toward the cloth bundle in Valian’s hand.
“Don’t tell me that’s…”
“The witch’s head.”
Bervira flinched and stepped back, clearly apprehensive.
“…Um, please keep your distance.”
“Why, are you scared?”
“Don’t I look terrified? Who knows how many fell victim to that witch’s curse? If you carelessly bring that corpse too close, I might get cursed too.”
Valian let out a mocking laugh. How could a dead person cast a curse? The witch hadn’t even become an evil spirit or ghost. She wasn’t that skilled of a witch in life. She hadn’t even given much experience.
“Just hand me the reins. I’ll go straight to the lord.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“So this is her head?”
Viraki eyed the cloth bundle Valian proffered with an odd look. Not expecting him to take it, Valian simply tossed it onto the desk. It made a dull, heavy thud. Viraki’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Rude barbarian.”
“Pay me my reward.”
At the mention of a reward, a smile crept across Viraki’s face. The sudden shift in expression was mildly unsettling.
“A reward? Yes, what shall I give you?”
“Some gold coins. That’ll be enough.”
“Really?”
Now he looked surprised. Bastard. Then what was he expecting?
“Well, if that’s really all, I’ll pay handsomely.”
Viraki stood and opened a drawer, rummaging around before tossing something at Valian. He easily caught the leather pouch. Peeking through the partly open top, he glimpsed a golden gleam.
“Around twenty coins or so. Is that sufficient?”
Valian didn’t respond, simply pocketing the pouch quietly.
“Can I leave now?”
Viraki nodded.
“Yes, go ahead. This was a short, but good deal.”
Without a word, Valian rose from his chair and exited. Viraki watched him go with a cold smile.
After Valian left, Bervira entered. He spoke up,
“Preparations are complete, my lord.”
Viraki nodded again.
“Good. Go handle it.”
“Understood.”
But as Bervira turned to leave, he stopped.
“…Um, my lord?”
“What is it?”
Bervira looked at the lord with trembling eyes.
“…I’m not sure twenty men will be enough.”
Viraki’s expression turned severe.
“What’s that? You saying twenty grown men can’t handle one person? Did I just hear you say that?”
“It’s just…the Valian I saw was an incredible warrior. Barehanded with just a sword, yet he defeated seven ghouls.”
“Those ghouls weren’t real ghouls. Just humans transformed to look ghoul-like due to a curse. They were stronger than a normal human, sure, but not to the point of tearing apart over ten men like true ghouls.”
Bervira’s trembling grew more pronounced.
“…That witch was more skilled than I thought. Skilled enough to use a curse to bring fake transformed ghouls to the level of true ghouls. They were real ghouls.”
Viraki’s face hardened as well.
“Are you telling me you realized that? You? I’ve experienced countless battlefields in the Eastern War. And I’ve never heard of any spell that can make cursed ghouls into real ones. I don’t think it’s even possible. So speak no more nonsense. If you keep this up, I’ll just assume you’re a coward unfit to serve me any longer. Shall I make it short?”
“…Short?”
“Get out there and bury that bastard right now!”
Startled by the yelling, Bervira scampered out. Viraki sighed. Earlier he had told Valian he considered all his men brothers. That was a lie. The men he truly considered brothers were all dead. And his real brother was locked in the basement, cursed. Or had the witch’s death broken that curse?
In any case, Viraki wasn’t satisfied with these new, inexperienced young soldiers, but he had no choice. Through many wars and political battles, he had seized control of Noife. In the process, his old seasoned veterans were assassinated or betrayed and were betrayed themselves.
He had to fill the ranks somehow. Even if they were young and green, he had faith their youthful vigor would pull through.
Watching the childishly frightened Bervira made him wonder if that choice was wrong. Should he have tried saving his old subordinates somehow? It was too late for such thoughts now.
Viraki’s gaze fell on the cloth bundle on the desk.
‘So she’s really dead…’
His relationship with the witch had been a transactional one – an exchange. Viraki provided money and rare research materials, and the witch granted him the arcane knowledge and dark services he required.
But recently there had been issues in their relationship, resulting in his brother suffering the consequences. The fact that she didn’t flee suggested the witch thought things could return to normal between them. However, the end result was this severed head.
Viraki slowly unwrapped the cloth bundle. Tangled black hair spilled out. Pulling it back further revealed a pale face. Discolored violet lips were slightly parted, and clouded eyes stared blankly.
“…So she’s really dead.”
In truth, when Viraki sent Valian, he hadn’t expected the witch to actually be killed. It was just a signal that he was furious and to hurry up and break his brother’s curse. In the end, they had both believed their relationship could revert to how it was before.
“Tch.”
Viraki tried to look on the positive side. She was an appendage that needed severing eventually anyway. These spell-wielding types could turn capricious without warning. Though sooner than expected, having this potential liability removed wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
Then a strong gust blew open a window with a thud.
Rain was falling. Pitch-black clouds clashed with dense grey ones like crashing waves, barely seeming held back by some unseen breakwater before dissipating into a furious downpour. Lightning flashed in the distance with a rumble of thunder.
Viraki hurried over and shut the window. In that brief moment, rainwater had splashed onto the floor of his study.
“Damn it.”
The powerful winds kept making the window rattle. Viraki began feeling a vague sense of dread. And feeling dread about feeling dread itself, the candles in the study suddenly extinguished one by one.
“What, what is this?”
His voice trembled in a way that made it hard to believe he had just forcefully ordered Bervira around. The lord was terrified.
With a whoosh, the last candle went out and the window burst open again, letting the howling winds and pounding rain pour into Viraki’s study.
“What is going on?!”
“What’s going on, you ask?”
Viraki froze like ice. It was a woman’s voice. Had it been an unfamiliar voice, he might have found it alluring. But he knew this voice.
“…Joanna?”
Turning his head, Viraki saw the decapitated witch’s head floating, blue eyes glowing.
“Did you hate me that much, Viraki? Enough to send an assassin after me like that?”
“N-No, I didn’t think he could actually kill you…”
“But I died, didn’t I?”
The black hair squirmed unnaturally, adding to the witch’s unnatural aura.
The bodiless head slowly drifted toward Viraki. He backed away instinctively. Having his back to the window, his clothes were getting soaked.
“S-Spare me, Joanna. I was wrong. I made a mistake. And it wasn’t me who really killed you, was it? The real killer was that Aynakian barbarian Valian!”
Viraki cried out desperately. But the witch’s head kept advancing, letting her swaying hair dangle over Viraki’s face.
Viraki couldn’t resist. His body just trembled, his heart pounded wildly. No courage surfaced in his mind. The veteran of many battlefields realized this was what happened when one’s spirit was subjugated by a ghost. And that without anyone to help, he would die.
“I know it was that barbarian who killed me too. But he’s too strong. So I’ll settle for killing you instead.”
“Wha-? You bitch, what ar-gkk!”
The witch’s hair coiled like a noose around Viraki’s neck. Viraki clawed at it with his fingers, but to no avail, making choked gasping sounds.
Shortly after, the lord of Noife, the hero of the Eastern War, the fox of the battlefield who had mocked other human lands, died at the hands of a ghost strangling him.
Thump. After discarding Viraki’s corpse, the ghostly Joanna flew out into the raging storm. She needed to retrieve her body before beasts or monsters devoured it.
As she flew, Joanna suddenly glanced in a particular direction and muttered,
“Warrior from beyond Aynakia. We’ll meet again. But don’t fight me next time.”
The woman’s severed head soaring through the rain made for an eerie sight indeed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Do witch 🪄 is not dead. MC knows this or not?