Hestinia Wiswitch
Hestinia Wiswitch (1) Neromeltia turned her head to find the source of the sudden voice, but all she saw was the dense forest. Everyone in the group was looking toward the direction the voice had come from, though their reactions varied. Neromeltia narrowed her eyes, a complex mix of emotions playing across her face as she covered it with her hand. Lusteria shrank back in tension, slipping behind Neromeltia and peeking over her shoulder while trying to hide. Nella kept turning her head busily, trying to grasp the situation since she understood nothing from start to finish. Beatrice, radiating a hint of hostility, began untying the knots on her sleeves to enter a combat stance despite barely being able to stand properly.
Realizing that everyone was flustered or tense, Neromeltia quietly raised her right hand. “You never change. Teasing me the moment we meet?”
Neromeltia poured strength into her raised right hand and curled all her fingers as if grasping something in the air. Her hand trembled slightly, and her fingers stopped, caught on something that prevented them from fully bending. Creak, creak, creak, creak—a loud, grating sound echoed from the front, as if some massive object were straining. Just like the unidentified voice from earlier, the current precarious sound had no discernible source, but the violent trembling of the space ahead confirmed the presence of something invisible.
The scene was unreal, like the world painted in the shimmering haze of a cruel summer heat. Crack!!! As Neromeltia’s fingers curled further, something seemed to shatter with a thunderous roar, and five holes appeared in the view ahead. The five holes, formed like sharp cracks in a glass window, looked exactly as if someone had driven their fingers into it. Beyond those holes in the air lay nothing but darkness.
Even Nella, who lacked magical knowledge, had no trouble identifying what it was. A rift in dimensions.
Crash!!! Shatter…!!! Neromeltia swung her right hand sideways with force. It was a rough motion, as if tearing something apart, and a fierce gale born of immense magical power swept through, blurring everyone’s vision. At the same time, a deafening roar shook the surroundings, like a massive sheet of glass shattering and collapsing. The entire scene ahead, which had shown only the lush forest of the Taego Forest, fractured into countless pieces resembling shards of glass and scattered away.
Beyond the broken backdrop, a space of pure darkness revealed itself. Unreal. Surreal. A void that did not exist. In the midst of that abyss made of fiction stood a single woman.
“As expected of the Demon Lord. That was quite a barrier, yet you destroyed it with a single gesture.”
“I can’t just like you when you always act like this. Can’t you greet me normally after so long?”
The mysterious woman walked leisurely through the dimensional rift Neromeltia had created by breaking space. Emerging from the formless realm of darkness into reality, she lightly waved the fan in her hand, and the shattered dimensional rift closed as if it had never been, leaving only the original scene. Only the dense Taego Forest remained as the background; the dimensional crack that had existed moments ago left no trace, and everything was peaceful once more.
“It’s been a long time. A thousand years, perhaps? It’s truly good to see you again.”
“Yes, good to see you too. You seem to have been doing well, Hestinia.”
“Hehe. Did you miss me?”
“I thought I did a little, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Oh my, how cruel. I prepared so many gifts while waiting because I wanted to see the Demon Lord.”
The woman had an air of antiquity about her. She carried the appearance of a highborn human noblewoman, and her gentle demeanor was best described as elegant. She wore a black profile hat adorned with the brown-striped feathers of a giant raven. The open-shoulder dress, made of the same black fabric as the hat, accentuated her mature figure, while the full skirt and its luxurious frills heightened her dignity as a lady. The black evening gloves crafted from fine silk displayed refinement in even the smallest details, and the hands wearing them maintained an elegant poise with every light gesture. The black fan she held was decorated with the precious down of a young snow mountain swan, giving her an aristocratic appearance refined enough to convince anyone she was a great noble.
“Oh my, this young lady is someone I haven’t seen before.”
The woman approached the somewhat hesitant Nella and looked into her eyes. Between strands of her long, wavy light-purple hair, beautiful green eyes reminiscent of brilliant peridot shone. Even though those lovely eyes were fixed on her, Nella felt a damp chill rather than any appreciation of beauty. Beneath those eyes, which seemed to hold precious gems, lay dark circles so deep they went beyond mere darkness into something decadent. Above all, in stark contrast to the gentle smile on her face, her eyes held no vitality, no trace of human emotion. They were beautiful like radiant jewels, yet they were objects, not the eyes of a living being.
“Oh my, look at these abs! Aah! I want to hug you!”
The woman bent at the waist and began admiring Nella’s abs. It was an extremely rude action, one that would have been understandable if Nella had gotten angry, yet Nella could not even voice a single word of protest. Her gaze had landed on the woman’s breasts, exposed above the deeply plunging neckline of her open-shoulder dress. Despite the daring neckline, her breasts were so large that one could be certain they would never spill over. The word “large” hardly sufficed for a woman’s breasts, but hers defied even that common sense. Nella unconsciously recalled all the women with large breasts she had seen until now. Among the countless, the first to come to mind were Neromeltia and Lusteria. Even for someone of her own massive build—over two hundred mentols tall—their breasts were so large that one hand could not encompass them. She had never seen breasts of that size even among the large-framed orcs. Yet the breasts of the woman currently examining her abs were far larger still. It was a shock that overturned the common sense she had built over eighty-five years of life.
“Don’t be rude.”
“Eeh, Demon Lord, you’re too mean. Trying to keep all the good things to yourself?”
“What do you mean, keep to myself?! I’ve never done anything like that!!”
“Eeh! Really?! That can’t be!!”
When Neromeltia stepped between them and shielded Nella, the woman had no choice but to retreat obediently. Even as she withdrew, she did not take her eyes off Nella’s abs until Neromeltia fully blocked her view. She licked her lips with a regretful expression, and Nella felt a chill run down her spine at the sight, as if her heart had frozen.
“There’s no way our Demon Lord hasn’t touched you yet… Did you spend a thousand years in the Underworld learning nothing but lies from the God of Death?”
“What are you saying!! Are you trying to make things difficult for me again!?”
At the sight of the woman brazenly appraising someone else’s body upon first meeting and sending meaningful glances that chilled the blood, Nella froze in shock. Lusteria nodded as if she understood the feeling completely and patted Nella’s back.
“The lady-killer who used to schedule private interviews the moment a new female recruit joined the Demon Lord’s army… where did she go—”
Grab!
“You… If you say one more word, I’ll tear off that ridiculously huge lump of flesh.”
“Haaah! Demon Lord, you’re so rough!”
Quite angry, Neromeltia did not hesitate to act violently in a way she normally never would. She looked ready to do anything if it would silence this rude woman. Neromeltia grabbed the middle of the woman’s enormous breasts with force, and her grip was so strong that the massive mounds deformed into the shape of an hourglass. Yet even under such violent threats, the woman merely let out a vulgar moan and accepted it as a sexual act, remaining perfectly calm. Neromeltia’s eyes gleamed with killing intent, and she began to smile fiercely, as if proving the saying that too much anger brings laughter.
Soon after, an unpleasant silence fell over the area. The woman, who had been responding nonchalantly with vulgar sounds, suddenly wiped all expression from her face.
“Even after a thousand years, you’re still the same. Kind and gentle little Nero.”
“Don’t call me by that nickname.”
“No matter how scary you act, it’s never sincere, is it? I wonder what it would take for you to show your true feelings, my lady.”
Neromeltia released her grip and quietly stepped back. The heavy atmosphere was like a silent storm. Though she wore the face of everyday calm as she withdrew, everyone could clearly sense the torrent of emotions raging inside her, even without a word being spoken.
The woman straightened her disheveled clothing and turned to the group, offering a greeting. She lifted both sides of her skirt and bowed her head in the classic noble manner. With the graceful curtsy of a refined lady, she belatedly introduced herself.
“My name is Hestinia Wiswitch. I am the one once called the Eternal Witch in Hemonigent.”