The Elf Who Craves Pudding (2)
Having caved to the elf's threats, Parus contributed to the minotaur hunt. The mountain was one she'd visited occasionally during field classes, so she knew the local terrain well—but with the elf trailing at a fixed distance, tension kept creeping up on her.
She really feels just like one of those nasty professors... Parus grumbled inwardly, forcing a smile as she turned back to the elf.
"I-it's this way, straight ahead. Should be there."
"You sure?"
"Probably...?"
"Probably?"
Just the simple question carried some unspoken menace that sent chills down her spine. Sweat beading on her forehead, Parus hastily backpedaled.
"Y-yes, definitely! Just follow me!"
"Should've said that from the start."
The curt remark landed like a warning. If I don't find that minotaur, will my head explode like some freak accident? Parus shuddered.
As Parus pored over her map in a haze of fear, the elf—bored of walking—broke the silence in a flat tone.
"By the way, you're a witch, right?"
Parus startled and glanced back. Was this some new threat? But those innocent eyes suggested genuine curiosity. Letting out an inward sigh of relief, Parus scratched the back of her head and laughed awkwardly.
"Not yet. Haven't formed a pact with a professor through the imprint curse. Gotta fill all the credits, pick and complete a graduation project, and write a thesis too before I can officially become one."
"Huh. Sounds like a real hassle now. Back in my day, it wasn't nearly this complicated."
"Well... witches used to get persecuted back then, but these days it's a hot profession. Once you're a witch, your appearance stays fixed—no aging—and you're independent, no bowing to nobles. It's like a dream come true."
The elf tilted her head.
"Not all upsides, though. Witches can't have kids as the price for immortality. And you only look young—your lifespan's still human."
"That's fine."
"What's fine?"
"Not planning on marriage anyway~ House prices are skyrocketing—what marriage? World's tough enough just surviving on my own. Kids? No way. Right?"
Right? The elf narrowed her eyes at the curt phrasing, and Parus cleared her throat, changing the subject.
"Anyway, it's a shame for you, Lady Witch. You seemed insanely skilled earlier. Bet you've made bank. Don't you want kids?"
"I could have one right now if I wanted."
"Huh? How can a witch have kids?"
"I'm not a witch."
A question mark floated over Parus's face.
"But you said you were the Black Flame Witch earlier?"
"That's true."
"So you are a witch?"
"Wrong. I just pretended to be one."
What the hell? Parus couldn't make sense of it but nodded anyway. No point pushing and souring the mood.
"Anyway, I'm jealous. If I could earn like you, I'd live it up in the capital. Someone as strong as you must have a huge mansion, right?"
"Mansion..."
Not wrong, so the elf nodded. Parus's eyes lit up with anticipation.
"Knew it! So you've got a library and fancy pets and stuff?"
"Pets?"
The elf pondered, then nodded again.
"Yeah, I do."
"Ooh. Cats? Witches and cats go together."
"Cat...? Hmm. Closer to a dog, if anything."
"Ah, dogs are cool too. Well-trained?"
"Training it. Doesn't listen much."
"Gotcha."
Parus nodded—then suddenly burst out snickering, pfhh.
Why's she laughing? The elf asked, puzzled.
"What's so funny."
"Nothing. You just seemed so happy talking about your dog. Made me think you're not as scary as you look."
"Liar."
"Why would I lie? If anyone's lying, it's you—pretending to be the Black Flame Witch forever?"
The elf sighed deeply.
"Told you, it's true."
"Prove it then. By the name of—Black Wind Black Slaughter Spear!"
Chicken skin prickled across the elf's body. She grimaced in disgust.
"What the hell was that."
"Huh? It's the spell the Black Flame Witch used against the church's witch hunts. Super famous—it's even in basic textbooks."
"Never named it that."
"Uh... the Moonless Guild master said that's the name?"
"Dremes?"
Parus nodded vigorously. A headache bloomed in the elf's skull. Turning someone else's spell into my black history? What the fuck. Can't let her believe bullshit as fact.
The elf opened her mouth to correct her—but Parus shushed her, finger to lips, pointing to a clearing beyond the brush.
A 4-meter minotaur was tearing into a mountain goat there.
"That's the female minotaur you wanted. She's vicious and strong, so we should team up—hey, you listening?"
Ignoring Parus, the elf strode into the clearing. No need to listen.
Grrr...?
The minotaur lifted its head at the noise but the elf didn't stop. To Parus, it looked suicidal.
"Stop—"
Parus froze. Behind the elf, a black magic circle unfurled, circuits linking in intricate patterns.
Huh? What?
Circuits connected in precise rules, runes ignited, symbols amplified mana in their places. Complex yet simple, vast yet precise. Parus gaped at the overwhelming sight.
No wand, no assistant witch—completing grand magic this fast was incomprehensible.
Roooar!
The alarmed minotaur dropped the goat and charged. The elf finished her spell.
A massive spear blade erupted from the circle's center.
Then—light flashed.
Bang!
The black spear shot like a bullet, piercing the minotaur and slamming into the ground.
BOOM!
The earth flipped, shaking like an earthquake. Fierce winds whipped everywhere.
Rumble...
The shockwave blanketed the slopes; startled birds exploded skyward.
"Eek!"
Parus hadn't escaped the backlash either. Eyes squeezed shut, waiting out the gale, she finally peeked—and saw the minotaur impaled on a spear rivaling her height, dead.
Instant kill. No scream.
"Whoa..."
Is this what a skill gap looks like? Parus stood dumbfounded, unable to believe her eyes.
Is she really the Black Flame Witch? The figure in the black robe, fluttering nearby, suddenly seemed majestic.
"Uh, um."
Snapping to, Parus calmed her pounding heart and approached.
"So... are you really the Black Flame Witch? The one who ended the witch hunts against the church?"
The elf turned, replying indifferently.
"Yeah."
"Th-then why hide for twenty years...?"
"Realized you're all just human in the end."
"Huh?"
Doesn't make sense. But the elf ignored her, summoning several large buckets and jerking her chin at them.
"Payment."
"Pardon?"
"You said you'd pay me. So milk it."
"Ah..."
A bit random, but no refusing. And this was the Black Flame Witch—working for an idol? Thrilling.
A petty greed surfaced, though.
"Can I take a bottle of milk? For my graduation project—it'd be a hit..."
The elf nodded reluctantly, and Parus milked happily.
*
Done milking, the elf sent Parus off and headed straight back to the pudding shop.
"Oooong..."
The beastkin owner gawked at the haul: five buckets brimming with minotaur milk.
"Didn't expect it this fast! As expected of the Black Flame Witch!"
"Whatever. Make the pudding."
"Yesung! Takes about three hours—wait a sec!"
The beastkin hefted the buckets inside, waddling clumsily. Hard to watch.
Three hours for pudding? Felt like a waste, souring her mood. But she'd come this far—couldn't leave empty-handed.
It's delicious. Worth it. Reliving that past ecstasy? Fair trade.
Perched on a stool at the counter, killing time, the elf watched the owner finish prep and stash the pudding in the freezer before wiping his hands and approaching.
"Riya! Just two more hours!"
"Mm."
Curt as ever. The beastkin chuckled and plopped down beside her.
"What've you been up to? Moonless Guild's been looking."
"Moonless Guild?"
"Yeah. Dremes especially—she's dead set on finding you."
"Okay."
No change in expression. Awkward silence fell. She hadn't been this cold before—at least not twenty years ago. What happened back then to make her vanish?
Hesitant, the beastkin piped up as if remembering.
"Oh! Eating here or to-go?"
"Pack it. Taking it."
"Gotcha. How many?"
"Two..."
Mind changed. No need to bring one for Theorad, probably playing happily with Esilly.
"No—one."
Still, leaving room: the elf glanced at the beastkin, lips twitching.
"Might bring someone I know later. Save some—get milk from another guild if you have to."
"Hmm. Tricky, but I'll try. That someone special you love?"
"No."
Instant. The beastkin pressed, sheepish.
"Then someone you like?"
The elf paused, unable to pin down the words.
Pondering amid the breeze, eyes closed, she murmured softly.
"Who knows."
In that moment, the beastkin saw it—a faint smile touching the elf's impassive face for the first time.