Chapter 451
Chapter 451
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 451
Chapter Title: Reunion (5)
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1.
Her head had been blank throughout the entire trial.
It was undoubtedly a massive event in itself... no, more like a sudden disaster and stumbling block in her life.
Yet she couldn't muster any other thought besides whatever.
A fine and compensation exceeding the total gold she'd ever touched in her lifetime?
Imprisonment and exile if she failed to pay within ten years?
Even for someone as oblivious to the outside world as Amelia, this wasn't something she could take lightly, considering the situation.
Her master's legacy was more than ample for conducting magical research, but it probably wouldn't even cover the fine.
And that wasn't all.
For Amelia, who had spent her entire life in Gehenna—confined to a single room—exile was a heavy sentence.
Imprisonment, forcing her to face the wall in meditation without any magical research, was equally crushing.
Yet she could remain this calm because...
She had been forgiven.
She had come within a kiss of him—the one she thought she might never approach in her lifetime.
Siwoo had clearly intended to kiss her too.
A corner of her heart still held lingering guilt and gratitude toward him.
She knew she had mountains of debts to repay.
Even knowing it made her a pathetic sight, even aware she was losing all composure.
It felt like an unyielding pillar had been placed in a corner of her heart.
"Please sign here, here, and here."
Back in the waiting room and seated, the Count Cohav—who had handled her interrogation—brought over a thick stack of documents and placed them before Amelia.
Amelia meticulously reviewed every clause before signing.
Count Cohav silently gathered them up and offered a curt farewell.
"You've been through a lot. I hope we never have to meet over something like this again."
"You've worked hard too, Count Cohav."
And almost without pause, Sophia strode in.
The moment she saw Amelia, she caressed her cheek with her hand and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Oh dear, your face has gotten so thin..."
"Sophia, astral bodies don't lose that much cheek fat."
"It's just how I feel."
Buried in the bosom of Sophia's maternal affection, her eyes misty with tears, Amelia wore a faint smile.
Who knew the arms of a trusted friend could feel this warm?
The two shared a second round of joyful reunion for a moment.
"Amelia."
Sophia was the first to speak, her expression darkening.
"I'll help you with the fine and compensation. Half might be a stretch, but I have some savings that should make a difference."
Sophia felt responsible for this mess.
She hadn't known Amelia was carrying out executions for Siwoo.
She hadn't been able to find her while the Whispering Witch took advantage of her exhaustion to extend her seductive grasp.
And on top of that, her meddling—done lightly, without knowing anything—had ruined Amelia's relationship with Siwoo.
The first two could perhaps be excused as unavoidable, but the last one? She had no defense.
If she'd at least provided some aftercare before things escalated so dramatically between Amelia and Siwoo, it never would have reached this point.
Feeling this responsibility keenly—and knowing the one who had stopped Amelia's rampage was Siwoo, struck directly by the karma of Sophia's past sins—she felt all the more ashamed.
"Sophia."
Amelia responded in a calm voice.
She had already spent a long conversation the previous night saying everything she wanted about Sophia's self-blame.
If Sophia hadn't forced a connection between her and Siwoo, no relationship would have formed between Amelia and him.
Even if one had, it would have been an exceedingly, exceedingly slim chance.
No pain, but no love either.
That was why Amelia harbored not a shred of resentment toward Sophia.
"There's no need for that."
"Amelia, don't say that..."
The offer of support was rejected far too easily.
Sophia assumed it was because Amelia lacked a sense of money.
Even excluding loose change, it was a whopping 210,000 pounds in gold.
The fine payable directly to the city hall could somehow be managed, but the compensation to the witches whose research had been ruined by Amelia's magic was the real issue.
Selling off all of Sophia's assets wouldn't even cover half.
Or perhaps, sensing Sophia's guilt, Amelia was refusing financial help as a way of saying it's really fine.
Well, that made sense.
Proud and inflexible as she was, Amelia wouldn't dream of relying on others to solve her problems, no matter how dire.
Sophia pondered how to help without making Amelia feel burdened.
Amelia looked up at her with clear, steadfast eyes.
"It's my fault. I want to take responsibility myself."
The moment their eyes met—her gaze straight and unclouded by any calculation or hesitation—Sophia felt ashamed.
She prided herself on being Amelia's closest friend, yet how could she have misread her heart so badly?
"I'm truly grateful for the thought, Sophia."
Watching Amelia bow her head sincerely in thanks, Sophia felt certain.
Even if they made the same choice, the reasons differed.
Amelia's refusal wasn't some shallow stubbornness born of frail pride or obstinacy.
It was a deeper, more firmly rooted conviction replacing narrow-mindedness.
"...Come here, let me hug you."
"You already are."
"When did you become so admirable...?"
"If you run out of money, your own magical research will suffer. Besides... it's not your fault anyway."
Anyone else might brush it off with a casual it's not that big a deal.
But Sophia had watched over Amelia since her stubborn, frustrating days.
She couldn't help but be delighted by this subtle yet definite growth.
"Fine, if you're that set on it. But promise you'll ask if it gets too hard? It's not just about me—you'd do the same if I were in trouble."
"Yes, I will."
The two held each other like sisters for a long while.
2.
"Hoo..."
On the bed where passion had yet to cool.
Dry cigarette smoke added another layer of haze to the fogged glass window from the humidity.
Count Cohav, sprawled facing the window, her naked form sensually glistening with sweat beads on her pale skin.
With her chin propped, filling her lightened body with nicotine, she glanced over her shoulder.
There, Duke Erelim leaned against the headboard, a grimoire in hand.
Her silky black hair combed neatly without a strand out of place.
Her eyes—a mix of white and silver—skimmed the text fluidly.
She looked so composed, it was hard to believe they'd just shared intense lovemaking.
Though Count Cohav deeply admired and adored the duke in her heart, sometimes she felt her too distant.
Like a doll, neither human nor witch...
To be precise, it wasn't entirely wrong.
But Yvonne Cohav's mind was tangled not because Blanche maintained her usual poise even after intimacy.
It was due to an earlier memory.
"......"
On the day former Baron Merigold caused the incident and Blanche stepped in to resolve it, the Jemernai Count and the Evergreen Witch had come pleading with Erelim.
To delay the "judgment" by just fifteen more minutes.
All preparations to punish Baron Merigold were already complete, with constant demands for pauses directed at her.
After a simple exchange of interests, the duke accepted.
When the promised fifteen minutes had passed.
The duke dropped the "Spear of Judgment" as planned.
The spear of light, nullifying all defenses and ignoring magical affinities, plummeted from the heavens to earth.
At that instant, the spatial randomization Merigold had created vanished, and the restrained citizens were freed.
In other words, chronologically simplified:
(1) Judgment descends.
(2) Merigold's spatial randomization normalizes.
(3) Merigold offsets the judgment.
Even as a 24th Hierarchy Duke Erelim's judgment, its power had been weakened to minimize damage.
Thus, a 23rd Hierarchy Baron Merigold offsetting it wasn't impossible.
The question was why Blanche, seeing scene (2), didn't retract her spell.
Anyone else would say it's hard to recall a spell once cast.
Even Jemernai and Evergreen, witnessing it up close, didn't question that point.
But Cohav knew.
The spell then was a controlled strike, and Duke Erelim's magical prowess transcended convention.
If Blanche had willed it, she could have stopped the bombardment anytime.
Yet she didn't.
She merely gazed down at the male witch and Baron Merigold embracing in the plaza's center, her transparent eyes blazing blue.
Why hadn't Blanche stopped the attack?
Why look at them with such eyes?
"Yvonne."
Snapped from her reverie, Cohav realized belatedly that Blanche had looked up from her book to watch her.
"Do you have something to say?"
Blanche closed the book and trailed her fingertips along Cohav's smooth waist.
She had much to say.
Questions too.
But they carried suspicion—implying impure motives on her part.
After gathering her thoughts, Cohav spoke.
"No. May I ask just one thing?"
"Of course."
With languid motions, Blanche slipped off her robe, her naked form overlapping softly atop Count Cohav's.
Like a serpent, Duke Erelim coiled around her, nibbling her earlobe while gripping her hip.
"Why... back then... didn't you retract the spell...?"
Desire flared like oil on dying embers.
Amid it, Cohav stammered on.
"Back then?"
"When you passed judgment on Baron Merigold... There was time. Time to retract the spell. Of course, I'm not doubting your intentions, Blanche... Ah..."
"Was there?"
Cohav's body stiffened as long fingers stirred deep in her still-wet folds.
The cigarette ember at her fingertips swayed, threatening to fall.
"I must have been too focused to notice. Controlling a spell isn't easy."
"R-Right... I suppose...?"
"Why didn't you mention it earlier if there was an issue?"
Her husky, sticky voice—never shared with others—filled her ear.
Count Cohav set aside her doubts for the moment.
"Well..."
Perhaps it was simply a mistake or misperception.
Duke Erelim had reached great heights, but that didn't mean perfection without error.
Besides, she who strove for witches' renewal more than anyone wouldn't harm them, would she?
"Yvonne, you doubted me."
"Doubt... no... not..."
Cohav's voice broke in gasps because her weaknesses were exploited so skillfully.
Over decades of physical intimacy, she'd never once bested the duke.
Soon, head bowed, face buried in the sheets, she trembled.
Regret that her suspicion was needless—and voicing it even more so—swept away in waves of ecstasy.
Behind the moaning Yvonne, Duke Erelim's transparent eyes lingered.