Chapter 696
Chapter 696
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 696
Chapter Title: Torment and Choice (2)
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Japan has a traditional fishing method passed down through long history.
It is ukai, where a torch is hung from the bow of a ferry, and a rope is tied around the cormorant's neck to catch the ayu fish drawn to the light.
The ayu caught this way had fewer injuries than those netted, so they were treated as top-grade and offered to the lord of the castle.
Now, after ages have passed, their taste doesn't come to mind at all, but they used to grace the table as Rinne's favorite side dish.
At first glance, it might seem like a finicky, cumbersome, and thus elegantly archaic custom, but comparing it anew to Rinne's own situation made it feel like a fiendish trap.
The cormorant, with a rope around its neck, cannot swallow large ayu.
The big fish caught in its throat is forcibly regurgitated into the hands of its handler.
Thus, only ayu small enough to slip through the rope are permitted, driving the cormorant to desperately churn the cold, black waters time and again just to sate its hunger on tiny fry.
For long years, Rinne had been that cormorant.
The abundance and peace she rightfully deserved were snagged by the noose around her neck and spat out, and only by driving herself to the brink could she enjoy joys as meager as those fry.
Yet she harbored no complaints.
It's a common notion that patterns of behavior stem as byproducts from one's values, but that relationship doesn't always flow in a straight line.
Long-repeated actions and habits, in turn, influence one's values.
Just as the exploited cormorant dives into the water to swallow its fry under the fisherman's hand, Rinne too had accepted her lot in life.
Cormorants and humans alike are ultimately creatures of adaptation.
"......"
Rinne sat blankly in her cabin, letting a full day slip by in meaningless idleness.
Normally, this would be the time she'd dance her sword forms alone, meditate, or take in a disciple for sparring.
But now, only tangled anguish filled her head like a fog.
Being a creature of adaptation doesn't always mean resilience to harsh conditions.
Once you've tasted a higher level of reward even once, lower ones become stale.
Feeling that reverse sensation and striving to maintain the status quo is also a form of adaptation.
For an easy example.
Just one day.
If a cormorant that had preyed freely on plump ayu without its leash has the rope retied.
Could it still be satisfied with the meager fullness from swallowing small fry as before?
The feelings Rinne experienced upon waking from that ecstatic night's dream were much the same.
A mere one night had made the deprivation she'd grown accustomed to for centuries feel alien and uncomfortable.
At first, she tried to quell the unease by nurturing resentment toward her disciple, who had debased her with such shallow tricks.
She even attempted to calm her wavering heart through meditation, as usual.
But gradually, she grew restless.
"......"
It wasn't just pleasure that unsettled Rinne.
If it had been only pleasure, she could have severed it with the endurance to bite off her own tongue.
What came to mind now were the other emotions she'd felt cradled in his arms.
She had lived in a loneliness no one could understand.
The solitude of drifting alone in an empty cosmos seemed eternal, unresolvable.
Yet the unity when their pulses raced together as one.
The warmth of his flesh upon waking that enveloped her loneliness filled the void.
It was as warm and comforting as the sunlight whispering in her ear during childhood naps.
So much so that she unwittingly yearned to nestle defenselessly in his arms once more.
"Si-woo."
Just keeping him by her side would make Rinne happy.
She could continue feeling these emotions.
She could settle without thrashing to drive herself away and grow stronger.
With these elements added, the values that had formed the basis of her life began to shake at the roots.
But there was a grave problem here.
Si-woo was nominally her disciple.
As seen from sharing his bed until now to amplify her magic power, Rinne didn't greatly heed the taboo of master-disciple relations.
It wasn't truly a mentor-apprentice witch relationship to begin with, was it?
Though she wouldn't exactly welcome profane rumors spreading outside.
However, panting like a bitch in heat before her disciple, devoid of any master's dignity, was an entirely different matter.
Once he experienced such pleasure, Rinne would expose that uncontrollable, broken side to him again.
No matter how much she craved the honey he offered, she didn't relish it.
"Ah."
Thus, after agonizing over agonies, a flash of insight struck Rinne's mind.
Yes.
She hadn't consciously noted it until now, but strictly speaking, this was a matter between man and woman.
It should be approached from the perspective of male-female relations.
If the issue was her dignity trampled in the process of intimacy with him, there was a fine way to resolve it at once.
"Marriage..."
Expel him as disciple and hold a proper wedding ceremony.
Rinne, born and educated as the daughter of a once-mighty castle lord.
Considering the era was the late Edo period, her notions of wifely duty were truly antiquated.
Wasn't the virtue of a married woman to always walk two steps behind her husband, comport herself modestly, and devote herself fully to her man?
It might be too embarrassing to spell out, but obedience to one's husband wasn't limited to daylight hours.
Even if lewd tastes were imposed in the bedchamber, smiling and willingly complying would be the proper demeanor and mindset.
In other words, marrying him would eliminate the need to struggle to maintain a master's dignity and authority.
Even if she heaved like a female beast or let out sloppy moans, it would be at her husband's behest—no need for shame.
That is the ideal wife.
It wasn't hard to see, with a little thought, that this line of thinking was riddled with logical leaps.
To begin with, if shifting from 'master-disciple' to 'husband-wife' alone smoothed everything over, why would human relations be called difficult?
Rinne inwardly realized this but averted her eyes, ignoring it.
A more desperate goal had emerged, after all.
"Then..."
She could summon Si-woo right away and propose a wedding.
She wouldn't tolerate refusal.
But that would be crushing him with a master's authority, not a wife's devotion.
She had shown him only strictness until now; she needed to reveal other sides too.
How the first button was buttoned would determine their married life ahead.
After more than half a day of deliberation, Rinne rose from her seat.
2.
What merits could a prospective bride show her groom?
Talent in song and dance?
Profound scholarship?
Of course, both mattered, but proficiency across all household arts took precedence.
Above all, serving excellent cuisine.
Thus, Rinne decided to treat Si-woo to a meal before spilling everything.
But there was a problem.
Rinne had never cooked in her life.
Before becoming an apprentice witch, her family's retainers attended her from waking to sleep.
After, at her master's order that meals were unnecessary, she cut out grains; as a full witch, unable to taste, she felt no need.
Thus, she chose the apothecary in Dignity Town where Si-woo had bought stamina potion ingredients before.
Its owner, the Witch of Freedom.
She already sensed Si-woo's relation to her, so no needless rumors would leak, and she stocked ingredients beneficial to spirits.
Above all, Rinne recalled high praise from the well-connected Lodge Alu about her cooking.
"Witch of Freedom. I have business."
"Sorry, shop just closed."
Meanwhile, to the Witch of Freedom leisurely drinking with marijuana and cocaine as chasers, Rinne's arrival rivaled a minor apocalypse.
She openly showed dislike, trying to lock the door.
"I will pay generously."
Rinne dropped a heavy pouch before her.
"Can't you just leave? I really, really hate this..."
The Witch of Freedom opened the pouch like it was a bomb, then her face lit up.
24K gold bars, serial numbers erased, stacked and gleaming.
The total weight seemed a full kilogram.
About 60,000 dollars in USD.
Not a huge sum for a wealthy witch, but pocket money anyone would welcome.
Her counterpart was the infamous Sword Witch, notorious even among warrants.
No point forcing her out anyway; might as well earn some cash. The Witch of Freedom spoke.
"Fine, what's the request?"
Not yet stowed in the safe—in case she had to return the gold—the Witch of Freedom was stunned by the details.
No need for euphemisms; it summed up simply.
"So, you want me to cook a meal good for a man?"
"I heard you're skilled at cooking."
"True, but..."
"Naturally, break secrecy and you die."
The threat barely registered as she eyed Rinne.
Even without her attire, Rinne was like a sheathed Japanese sword.
No rumors of her cavorting with a handsome lover.
With that beauty and temperament, such tastes alone would fuel gossip.
Yet she'd bought heaps of stamina ingredients with a male witch before, and now commissioned a feast for a man?
She must be head over heels for that half-and-half male witch.
Hard to believe even seeing it.
Impossible to probe with those sharp eyes fixed on her.
"How long?"
"Got paid, so I'll hustle. Four hours for ingredients, eight for cooking?"
"Ingredients?"
"This is an apothecary. Fresh stuff like eel needs sourcing."
What pull did a small-time Hexennacht resident have?
Just cook quietly, keep the secret, pocket the cash.
Leaving Rinne in the shop, the Witch of Freedom headed lightly to the market.