Chapter 582
Chapter 582
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 582
Chapter Title: Farce (4)
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1.
Dorothy poured out every thought she had kept buried deep inside.
She plainly and calmly recounted the kind of life she had lived.
What thoughts had driven her to act that way.
She even admitted that her own ideas had been far too hasty and utterly wrong.
In short, Dorothy—who had worried about Rurue's future—had cast herself as the villain to stage this whole farce.
It was an arrogant move, to say the least.
An impulsive act that disregarded both of their circumstances.
Yet Rurue showed remarkable magnanimity and readily forgave Dorothy.
She didn't just forgive her—overwhelmed by emotion midway through, she pulled Dorothy into a tight embrace and sobbed openly. Even the great Dorothy teared up in response.
I could understand Dorothy's motives, but it still felt like a needless ordeal.
Even without her putting on such a show, Si-woo had no intention of letting Rurue venture out into public enemy society. Hadn't she just turned a bloody fight into an even bigger mess? Rurue had taken a deep stab to the gut, after all.
In any case, both Dorothy and Rurue needed rest, so their vacations were forcibly extended.
As Dorothy put it, they were idiotically peaceful days.
Like soil hardening after rain, Dorothy and Rurue grew noticeably closer than before. Above all, Dorothy could now flash genuine smiles instead of her mask-like grins.
Si-woo let go of much of his wariness toward her and mingled freely.
Looking at the results alone, it didn't seem like Dorothy's scheme had been a complete waste.
Three days passed like that.
Si-woo sat on the edge of the bed, steadying his troubled heart.
The setting was Rurue's bedroom, thick with a strange tension.
The sound of running water from the adjoining shower room kept rippling the calm he was trying to maintain.
"Alright, time for some settling up."
When his mind got tangled, he found it helped to focus on positive thoughts.
First off, Si-woo had overcome the trial.
He'd leveraged the temple buff to some extent, but he'd conquered the Dream Cradle and subdued the rampaging Black Knight.
And he'd even taken down Dorothy of the 22nd Hierarchy.
Though she'd fought under the constraint of "capture alive without killing," and it had dragged on in a stalemate long enough for him to pull it off.
Still, compared to how he'd been utterly helpless against Bianca of the same 22nd Hierarchy before, this was massive progress.
At this rate, he might even be able to tag along with his master and help with her work.
As for Rurue, it was decided she'd head to Gehenna in a few days.
This was to let her recover fully from her circuit core damage in a safe place.
Gehenna could heal even such injuries far more smoothly, after which she'd return to Akula to resume her trials.
Of course, Rurue was nominally an exile, so entry to Gehenna was impossible.
But "exile" was looser in definition than its negative connotation suggested.
A witch kicked out of Gehenna for causing trouble was an exile; one branded a public enemy for far graver offenses was an exile; even one affiliated with the present world who fit neither case was an exile.
In other words, they all lacked Gehenna citizenship, but the severity of their crimes varied wildly.
In that sense, Rurue was an old witch's successor—an exile who had never actually been banished.
Dorothy said acquiring citizenship wouldn't be hard if they paid the right price.
Indeed, Yebin Smirna—who had come to treat Si-woo—had her citizenship restored by the Jemernai Count family, hadn't she?
The plan was to trade some of Rurue's inheritance for it.
That would naturally require talks with the Jemernai Count...
Her reaction might go something like this:
'Si-woo dear, may I ask a question? If a son-in-law who vanished for a month, then stayed missing for another, suddenly showed up demanding citizenship for a new woman... how do you think his mother-in-law would feel?'
Imagining her sipping tea with elegant poise but eyes that weren't smiling made his stomach twist already.
"I'll worry about that later..."
The biggest relief was that Rurue had accepted going to Gehenna.
Now that Dorothy's ploy was exposed, she might have thought, "See? Being a public enemy isn't all bad! Better than those Gehenna cowards—I'll stick with public enemy exile life!"
But Dorothy and Si-woo's earnest persuasion seemed to have swayed her.
She did make one condition in exchange for going along quietly.
Finally, there was Dorothy's situation.
While pondering Rurue's path together, Dorothy had cut straight through Si-woo's complicated expression.
As if she knew what he was about to say and there was no need to agonize.
'No public enemy title in witch history has ever been lifted.'
'Even so, guilt by association feels too unfair.'
'Being designated a public enemy is the strongest restraint witch society can impose. Like a death sentence. If it vanished after succession? Everyone would rampage to climb hierarchies then pass it off in one go.'
He couldn't argue.
If an unfair-seeming system persisted, there had to be hidden reasons sustaining it.
Thus, Dorothy declared she'd head back to her workshop once she recovered.
Si-woo's darkening expression at her choice was inevitable.
In their fight, Dorothy had suffered a grievous wound.
Damage to her Stigma.
Stigmas, like mana circuits, were in a projected state, so they recovered naturally unless outright excised like an organ.
Even a spear through the womb would regenerate slowly, like shape-memory alloy, reclaiming its function—and the Stigma would reform atop it.
But Dorothy's injury came from the Red Branch.
Though the nun's habit's powerful defenses kept the Stigma from total destruction, the stroke handling mana storage had taken irreparable damage.
In terms of severity, it was the most critical stroke.
Like a laptop with everything else working fine but a dead battery—you couldn't do a thing.
'Why look so sorry?'
'...It's because of me, no matter what.'
'I'm way happier now than when I wielded magic freely. I gained a precious friend.'
That's what Dorothy claimed.
But she couldn't feel no sense of loss.
For a witch, losing magic was more horrific than losing limbs.
At that moment, the water stopped.
The chatter from the shower room fell silent.
"Art thou prepared? Dorothy hath just finished readying herself."
"Yeah, looks like it."
Rurue approached with light steps, ahead of Dorothy.
Normally, they'd tangle on the bed for kisses leading straight to sex...
But Rurue's expression was more serious than ever.
And her attire was proper pajamas, not something provocative.
"Thanks for granting my request. And sorry for being so stubborn."
"No need. I feel responsible too."
It skipped some steps, but tonight's partner for a steamy night wasn't Rurue—it was Dorothy.
Of course, he hadn't taken the Black Knight's scolding to heart and sworn to bed every witch in the world for an invincible harem.
This was the culmination of the whole ordeal.
Dorothy's Stigma was damaged.
Si-woo felt guilty about it.
Rurue bowed her head and asked for one favor in exchange for going to Gehenna.
It was sex with Dorothy.
Not out of her strong possessiveness for sexual hospitality or pleasure.
For all her airs, Rurue was a 23rd Hierarchy witch.
Her knowledge of magic dwarfed Si-woo's in breadth and depth.
Even amid vacation, grieving Dorothy's injury, Rurue scoured the library and found one possibility.
As explained, Stigmas recovered naturally unless excised.
Even punctures or piercings regenerated with ethereal resilience—even the womb—and the Stigma reformed atop.
In other words, if the shorted stroke from the distortion field could be jump-started back to normal, Dorothy might reclaim her magic.
The means? Ironically, Si-woo's cock, which emitted pure mana needing no magnetization.
The closest analogy: like shocking a stopped heart to beat again with electricity.
Amid all the headaches, Si-woo gladly joined the experiment.
Even he, barely past learning magic, couldn't imagine life without it.
For Dorothy, who'd live on in the present world—and whose lineage spanned generations of magic—restoring it was imperative.
He had to grasp even a straw of hope.
Rurue, feeling its weight far more keenly, explained with utmost seriousness, counting on her fingers, utterly devoid of jealousy.
"I know thou art lustful. But be not too rough."
"Yeah, yeah. I won't drag it out anyway."
Honeybee sex: skip to ejaculation.
He'd done it several times already.
Just needed to cum, so same procedure.
-Squeak
"No need for that."
The shower door opened, steam billowing out.
Dorothy sauntered out behind it.
Her I-cup bounty—superior even to Sophia's—jiggled inescapably with each step.
"I'm very skilled at this."
The world is vast, full of busty women bigger than I-cups.
But none were as perfect.
A flawless, slender waist with melon-sized symbols of motherhood jiggling away.
No enhancements, yet it felt like watching a padded video up close.
A massive mammooth that manufactured desire on the spot.
"Ugh..."
Even Rurue—who had invited Dorothy to her bed without hesitation—fidgeted anxiously seeing Si-woo's half-dazed state.
But she soon squeezed her eyes shut and patted the spot.
"Spend the remaining time well together. I am not so debauched as to peep on man and woman. I'll be watching a film—come find me when done."
Rurue glanced back as she left the room.
If she said that much, she really meant to give them space.
Given her reaction to Dorothy's provocations before, he'd assumed she'd hover nearby no matter what.
A bit unexpected.
Now only Dorothy and Si-woo remained in the bedroom.
"......"
"Ready?"
Gazing at the surprisingly relaxed Dorothy, a past remark of hers came to mind, so he asked to break the ice.
"Didn't you say being held in a man's arms was a first?"
"You think arms only come from men? You should be the nervous one. I'm very skilled."
With that, Dorothy winked playfully.