The Witch Under the Pointed Hat
If you spotted a towering pointed hat and a battered broomstick these days, the younger crowd would no doubt picture that fantasy novel—the world's second-best seller. Scenes like the talking Sorting Hat assigning dorms or the broomstick Quidditch matches are just too iconic.
But before that book hit the shelves, those pointed hats and broomsticks symbolized something far darker: evil witches.
For the uninitiated youngsters out there, think of witches as the sinister women from myths and legends, masters of curses. The term crosses species lines—some tales even dub wicked female fairies as witches.
Fairies, huh.
Mythical fairies are almost always depicted with stunning beauty. Just recall Zeus, the notorious playboy, defying his wife's wrath to bed them anyway. Proof positive that their allure could make even the king of the gods lose his mind.
"Hey, you listening?"
The girl who'd sparked these thoughts puffed out her cheeks and prodded my shoulder with her rickety staff. It was a feather-light jab, just checking if she had my attention. I nodded curtly.
"Yeah."
"Doesn't feel like it."
I narrowed my eyes, meeting her piercing stare. A massive pointed hat perched absurdly on her dainty face. With her fairy-like features, she caught my gaze and flashed a grin before speaking up.
"What're you staring at? My pretty face?"
"Nah, not that."
I gave an awkward reply and looked away. Why's this woman always coming on to me?
"Feels a bit too close. Mind backing off?"
"Huh? Why should I?"
Her innocent expression left me speechless.
"It's kinda burdensome."
"I'm burdensome?"
She froze mid-step, whipping around with a shocked look, her tiny mouth agape.
"You're the first person to ever say that to me…."
Did I hear that right? She mumbled it so softly. Sounded off somehow….
But just like that, her face lit up as if the shock never happened, and she sidled even closer.
"Hey, hey. What's your name?"
"Siwoo."
"I'm Juharin. Nice to meet ya."
"Yeah."
I kept my answers short, sticking close to the guide. No paths in this forest—easy to get lost. Ignoring Juharin's nonstop chatter, I stepped carefully over scattered branches.
"This is the place."
The guide, clutching a paper map and blinking through heavy dark circles, turned to us. I glanced around: just your standard forest crammed with ordinary trees.
Why bring us here? I wondered, pausing briefly. Then the middle-aged mage barked a short order at him.
"Hurry up and open the barrier."
"Y-yes, right away."
With a deflated tone, the guide clasped his hands, formed a quick mudra, and muttered under his breath.
"…Open."
⟨ Barrier Gate ⟩
His weary voice rippled the air in front of him.
Tsss—
The space tore open with a small hole—just big enough for one person. It widened rapidly, morphing into a full passage.
And beyond it… another guy in a similar suit stumbled through.
"Senior, you made it?"
"…Your turn to guide."
He plopped against a nearby tree like his job was done, catching his breath. Soon he was snoring softly, head drooped. Guy's got skills—napping in a place like this.
"…G-good day. I'll take over guiding you now."
His voice trembled faintly, drawing my gaze. The new guide eyed us with shaky pupils, clearly terrified of the mages.
"…."
The mages up front glared daggers at him, chinning impatiently like they wouldn't deign to speak to a mere sorcerer. Swallowing hard under their grim stares, he nodded.
"P-please… follow me."
And so we crossed through the barrier into the interior.
"What a pathetic barrier. I could shatter it with a flick."
Juharin, glued to my side, muttered it loud enough for everyone—me especially. I turned to her, the girl I'd been ignoring till now. Her face screamed, Impressed? Pretty cool, right?
Should I play along? After a beat, I tossed her the response she wanted.
"Impressive."
"Hmph! As if this is anything."
She tossed her hair coolly, playing it off. But I caught her ears flushing red amid the swaying strands. Thrilled by a little praise, huh?
"You could pull it off too, right?"
She straightened her crooked hat, smirking with one corner of her mouth.
"Unlike those bugs up front."
Her soft, pretty voice carried easily through the quiet woods. I glanced warily at the leading mages. They'd definitely heard.
"…."
But they just kept tailing the guide in silence, no hint of turning back in anger. Juharin eyed their backs, her smirk widening.
"Guess they don't even have that much pride left."
Keep it down—they can hear you. I nudged her shoulder to shut her up.
"Hey, you touching me?"
She shot me a sharp glare.
"Eh, since it's you, I'll forgive it. Specially."
She giggled, curving her lips into a sly smile.
"…Thanks."
I shook my head at her one-woman show. Best to keep ignoring her. Hanging with weirdos is exhausting.
I tried putting distance to avoid drawing aggro, but she stuck like glue. Aware or not, she kept babbling nonstop.
I tuned her out, focusing on my steps.
"Hey. What's your magic?"
These trees are huge. Korea have spots like this?
"I'm twenty-one. You?"
Rustling leaves are bugging me. Not leaf-fall season, yet all these giants are stark naked. Frowning at the eerie sight, I scanned around.
"Know a great restaurant. Wanna go after?"
I approached a tree, touched it—felt tiny cracks. Dead.
"Huh? You listening?"
Should I warn the other mages? I turned forward.
Pointless worry—they were all scanning sharply, no complacency.
Veterans with more experience than me. They'd spotted the signs first, probably. I nodded faintly, joining their vigilance.
Then a tug on my collar. I glanced at Juharin, cheeks puffed, staring daggers.
"What now."
"Focus on me! I'm talking to you. 'Family glory' or whatever?"
Right here, right now? Hesitating, I studied her. Unaccustomed to being ignored, her eyes glistened, on the verge of tears.
Part of me wanted to brush her off harshly, but the veterans' cold treatment of her stuck in my mind. Arrogant, spoiled vibe—like some chaebol heiress from a drama.
Fine. Not a long-term gig anyway. Connections couldn't hurt. I patted her shoulder gently.
"Sorry."
"Hmph! Only this once."
"…."
All mages like this? I gave vague answers to her endless questions, following the guide. The scenery shifted as we went.
Trees that seemed alive from afar now revealed cracks up close. Deeper in, they looked squeezed dry, withered and lifeless—no mistaking it, regardless of distance.
As I surveyed the dying forest—
"Gh-ghouls!"
The guide yelped ahead. I snapped my gaze forward: about thirty ghouls shambling our way.
How'd so many get this close undetected?
"It's this forest's trait. A kind of domain. Hiding ghouls' presence is child's play for the sorcerer."
Juharin answered my exact thought. I turned, staring in surprise. She giggled, teasing.
"It shows on your face. My eyes are sharp."
"What?"
"No need to blush. Domain info's not common knowledge."
The mages ahead unleashed spells at the ghouls. Veterans—should wrap quick. But the fight dragged; they even seemed to be losing ground.
"Ghouls buffed or something?"
Fair guess. The ones I fought before weren't that tough.
"Nah, those bugs are just weak. No enhancements in a domain this low-tier."
Arms crossed, she sneered down at the attacking mages.
To verify, I pulled a talisman from my pocket and hurled it into the ghoul pack. Blue flames engulfed it, erupting in a massive blast.
KABOOM—!
"For real."
I felt the mages' stunned stares amid the flying ghoul limbs.
Juharin was right. The ghouls weren't tougher—it was the mages' attacks too feeble to pierce their hides.
Another fair doubt crossed my mind.
These guys really veterans?