Chapter 286
Chapter 286
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 286
Chapter Title: Interlude 8
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Amelia Merigold was gazing at the scenery in her dream.
It was blurry, like an old photo album thick with dust, but it was a truly precious memory.
In truth, compared to her long life, it might not feel all that distant if you just measured by time.
But that series of warm, happy scenes felt impossibly remote, even in her dream.
That was because, for Amelia, it was a precious moment she could never return to.
One day, at the young Siu's offhand wish for kimchi jjim, Amelia rolled up her sleeves and dove into making a new dish.
Cabbage, ginger, chili powder, fermented seafood...
All of it was utterly foreign in Gehenna, where Western cuisine reigned supreme, so Amelia had to trek all the way to the border town's outpost to shop.
But she never once felt annoyed or reluctant.
She already carried the guilt of having held Siu back from returning to his homeland.
If he was missing his native food, the least she could do was make it right for him.
She'd gathered heaps of ingredients for the occasion, but even Siu didn't know the exact recipe.
In the end, dumping everything into a massive pot and boiling it down produced something utterly indescribable—a mystery stew beyond words.
"Sorry. I wanted to make it taste better..."
Amelia took the first spoonful, set her utensils down immediately, and apologized to Siu.
It was impossibly sweet and spicy, laced with a faint fishy tang from the fermentation—no way could anyone call that a success.
"No, it's really delicious. Just like what I had at home."
But Siu kept heaping on the praise, polishing off enough for three full servings—Amelia's portion included.
"Really...?"
That was when Amelia felt a wave of relief wash over her.
Siu's actions, his demeanor, his expression—they all pointed to the kimchi jjim being a hit, surprisingly enough.
She figured it just didn't suit her own tastes, thanks to its intensely rustic flavors.
But now she knew the truth.
She could see it clearly, revisiting that memory over and over: his eyes, his gaze, his face.
That bizarre taste wasn't the kind of thing that split opinions along cultural lines.
It probably hadn't suited Siu's palate any better.
And yet, for the sake of Amelia, who'd put so much effort into preparing it, he'd cleaned his plate.
Complete with enthusiastic compliments, no less.
2.
A wind stirred.
Desert nights were frigid.
The sands that blazed like a furnace by day cooled rapidly once the sun dipped below the horizon.
Fine grains of sand, caught in the breeze, brushed across Amelia's cheek as she huddled with her eyes shut.
"Mmm... um..."
Her long lashes quivered, and eyes of piercing sky-blue slowly fluttered open.
Her dazed gaze sharpened with a few blinks as awareness returned.
Amelia glanced around, but as always, it was futile.
Dreams were just dreams, after all.
Instead of the cozy cabin from happier times, nothing but endless, barren desert stretched before her.
The fine white sands, reflecting the moonlight, gleamed fleetingly in the dry darkness, as if cradling the night sky itself.
Amelia had been wandering the wastelands of the mortal realm, Kether Duke's kill list in hand.
After scouring the Arctic and hunting down all four homunculi there...
She'd shifted to this vast, empty desert on the African continent, pressing on with her subjugations at a terrifying pace.
Without eating or drinking a thing.
Without resting.
Like someone who could only endure by fixating on a single obsession—hunting—she charged straight ahead.
When exhaustion finally dropped her, she'd curl up roadside like a shrimp and snatch whatever sleep she could.
It wasn't hunting anymore.
Like a monk undertaking penance to cleanse original sin, Amelia was walking her own bed of thorns.
It echoed the time her master had passed, when she'd buried her grief in thick stacks of magical research.
This time was no different.
She'd just finished off the homunculus lurking in the Sahara and collapsed into sleep the moment victory was assured.
Her spirit body's durability and efficiency were exceptional, but hardly infinite.
Fatigue had been building steadily in her form, and this time, it hit hard.
The massive scorpion-shaped homunculus had left a solid gash on her body.
"Ugh...!"
As Amelia pushed herself up, pain lanced through her left arm, drawing a frown between her brows.
Her mind, freshly pulled from the hollow dream, sluggishly pieced together the situation.
"......"
Amelia glanced down at her aching left arm.
Her pale skin was slashed open like it'd been scored by a box cutter.
It wasn't her first injury.
But a wound this severe? That was a first in her life.
Autonomous defenses had stanched the bleeding, preventing further blood loss.
Still, it was so deep that torn muscles and glimpses of white bone peeked through the ruined skin.
"It hurts..."
She stared at the wound as if it belonged to someone else, murmuring softly.
Her voice was rougher even than the desert wind.
At the same moment, a pointless fancy flitted through her mind, like something out of that dream.
What would Siu think if he saw her like this?
If he witnessed her struggling and suffering, wouldn't he pity her, just a little?
Wouldn't he look at her with eyes full of sympathy?
Amelia shut the thoughts down.
Dwelling on it would only bring more pain.
Instead, she let her muddied heart settle into calm stillness.
Complicated musings were a luxury she couldn't afford right now.
She still had plenty left to do.
Falling into habit, she unconsciously evaded once more and kindled her mana.
She'd been too drained earlier to heal it, but she couldn't just leave it be.
As the gruesome wound slowly knit closed, like rotting flesh regenerating in reverse, she drew out the kill list.
A tome as thick as her duty itself.
With thoughts mechanically suspended, she prepared for the "next."
-Rustle!
Every homunculus she'd faced so far had been a formidable foe, a tricky adversary.
Real combat experience was nothing to dismiss, especially for Amelia, who'd devoted her life to research.
Injuries were routine; there'd even been razor-close brushes with death.
But she'd never felt her heart plummet like this upon opening the kill list.
Because what was written there wasn't a homunculus.
It was a "witch."
3.
"Stop! I surrender...!"
After slaying the "Black Scorpion" that haunted the desert...
Amelia had little trouble locating her first Public Enemy.
Deploying mana too powerfully would only scare the target off.
So she kept her output at around the 16th or 17th hierarchy, masquerading as easy prey to lure it in.
It was the hunter's wisdom she'd honed over her recent hunts.
The effect was outstanding.
Lurking in the heart of the desert with her mana density disguised, her quarry took the bait and struck first.
A 20th-hierarchy Public Enemy.
The Witch of the Scorching Sands, wielding tricky magic through sand.
Her resistance was no joke.
She commanded sand like limbs across several kilometers, trying to swallow Amelia in an amount beyond counting.
The hyper-compressed grains surged toward her like writhing tentacles.
A colossal mound of earth and sand floated up like a legendary sky island, bearing down with murderous intent.
Amelia wasn't at full strength.
Injuries and overexertion had left fatigue piled high; chain battles had left her stigma's mana reserves from topped off.
But a three-hierarchy gap was enough to bulldoze through every handicap.
Even if she hadn't fully internalized breaking past the 23rd hierarchy.
It took just three minutes of serious engagement to neutralize the Witch of the Scorching Sands.
What followed was the Public Enemy rolling wounded atop the sand mound, and Amelia gazing down at her.
Mana particles, responding to Amelia's will, glimmered all around.
Encompassing not just her and the witch, but hundreds of meters in radius.
"I surrender! Please, just this once—spare me. I didn't realize!"
"......"
Finally grasping her total defeat, the Witch of the Scorching Sands declared her capitulation.
The kill list laid out her litany of crimes in detail.
She'd murdered an apprentice witch in the past, preyed on humans, even slain fellow witches—a true villain.
"Please... I'll live quietly from now on, I swear. No more trouble. I'll make full restitution for the attacks!"
And yet she'd been the one to strike first.
If Amelia had been as weak as she'd assumed, she'd have devoured her without a second thought.
But with death staring her down, the witch begged for her life.
One flick of Amelia's finger, and that pleading mouth would spill blood and move no more.
The eyes peeking whites for a chance would lose their light.
That body, grasping at her skirt if given half a chance, would crumble back to sand.
This wasn't some innocent life.
It was a Public Enemy, steeped in purest evil and madness.
And yet harming another thinking being without a twinge of stress was no easy thing.
The weight of kin-slaying, the moral and ethical revulsion—it lingered even for most arrogant witches.
Amelia was no exception.
"Please... just let me live this once. If I die, my stigma vanishes too... At least let me take an apprentice and complete the magic... Then I'll die quietly, I promise..."
Sensing the fearsome witch's hesitation, the Witch of the Scorching Sands begged with renewed desperation.
Amelia bit her lip, frozen in inaction.
She'd killed before.
Turning Ea Sadalmelik into a heap of wildflowers.
But that had been with Siu lost right before her eyes, emotions at their peak.
Her hatred for the Aquarius Witch had overflowed into sufficiency.
No time or room for leisurely pangs of conscience.
But...
This witch was different.
An opponent who'd realized resistance was futile and now pleaded.
Killing someone who couldn't harm her felt less like enforcing justice and more like plain execution.
Was it, really?
If she lived quietly hereafter, was there any need to kill her?
Passing on her stigma to an apprentice wouldn't that be as good as killing her anyway?
A simpler, gentler compromise dangled temptingly before the hard choice.
Amelia didn't want to kill if she didn't have to.
If slaying Public Enemies was justice, she wanted to leave that justice to another's hands.
Her inner conflict bred carelessness.
The witch's hand coiled around Amelia's ankle—distance she'd never meant to allow.
-Snap!
Snapped from her daze, Amelia jolted and flicked her finger.
The sudden contact registered as attack or counterstrike.
"Plea...se..."
And with that, it was over.
The mana seeds permeating the witch's body every crevice resonated with Amelia's pulse and bloomed in unison.
Sprouting in an instant, they devoured her spirit body and mana wholesale, feeding on it as sustenance.
Not even granted time for a dying gasp, the Witch of the Scorching Sands perished.
"Ah..."
Amelia stared at the hand clutched around her ankle.
Farther from her body's core, perhaps—unlike the rest turned fully to flowers, the wrist still held some form.
Though flowers bursting through the skin crammed it full, threatening to scatter if she so much as glanced away.
Only then did it sink in.
She'd killed her.
She'd had to.
Kether Duke had demanded proxy executions from the kill list in exchange for Siu's life.
Fail the contract, and she'd reclaim his life.
Kether Duke's actions thus far were cold, impartial, merciless—an absolute being showing grace to none.
There'd never been room for half-measures or compromise.
"Uh... ugh...! Ack...!"
And yet.
Tears she'd thought forgotten from long ago struck alongside retching heaves.
Amelia wrenched free the hand gripping her ankle.
The one that still wouldn't let go.
The lingering sensation dragged her toward an abyss with no bottom in sight.
For a long while, Amelia vomited bile onto the sand.