Chapter 12: Ghost
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 12: Ghost
I brewed tea with the leaves I’d received from the villagers and served it to the witch, who sat sullenly at the table.
The witch stared down at the teacup for a moment, seeming to take in its aroma, before carefully lifting the cup and taking a small sip.
“...It’s not good.”
“Ahaha, my apologies. This is all I have...”
I wanted to tell her to just shut up and drink what she was given, but I was afraid of what might happen if I said something like that to a witch.
My master was beautiful, buxom, and kind enough to take in someone like me, but it would be far too optimistic to believe all witches were like her.
I watched her cautiously before tentatively opening my mouth to ask.
“Um, Lady Witch, what brings you here...?”
“Why else would I be here?”
“Ah, right. You must be here to see my master. Ahaha...”
Her needless prickliness made my shoulders tense. She had sounded so intrigued just a moment ago, but for some reason, the mood had soured the moment we left the other room.
Her gaze, so cold it felt like a physical chill, stabbed into me. She looked ready to fire off a spell at any second, so I lowered my head and stared at the floor.
‘Fuuuck... why is she looking at me like that...’
I had no idea why her mood had suddenly soured. If I tried to guess with my limited intellect, I could only conclude that the very act of me speaking to her had been unpleasant.
Her comment about finding my masturbation amusing, and my master’s tendency to treat me more like a pet than a person, offered a clue as to why she was upset.
Then again, if I saw a monkey suddenly serve me tea after jacking off, I’d probably feel weird, too. A more sensitive person might even be offended.
As I was busy trying to read her mood, she spoke first.
“Where’s Evangeline? Where did she go?”
“M-My master left for a bit because her familiar’s pup is sick. She should be back soon.”
“Hmph, is that so? She’s still raising it? That wolf?”
“Yes, yeees...”
She spoke as if she knew Fenrir, flaunting her closeness with my master. And with every mention of their friendship, I felt my heart shrivel a little more.
If they were close, she could speak her mind without reservation. For example, she could suggest that my master kick out her current disciple and find a new one...
“You there—”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
“Yohan. It’s Yohan.”
“My name is Margaret, Yohan.”
Margaret licked her lips as she looked at me. She had the expression of a snake that had just spotted its prey.
“You, want to be mine?”
“...Excuse me?”
“I asked if you want to be mine.”
Her words made me freeze for a moment. My 21st-century sensibilities couldn’t quite grasp what she meant.
But it didn’t take long for me to understand. This witch wanted me. But it wasn’t because she needed me.
Often, women will want the same thing their friend has, or something even better, simply because their friend has it. In extreme cases, some women would even steal the item.
The woman before me must be the same. I was sure of it. There was no way she’d feel a spark of attraction for a guy she’d just seen jerking off and decide to take him as her disciple.
“...W-well, you see, that is—”
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“No, it’s just— you should probably ask my master about that...”
“I asked you, didn’t I? And that ‘master’ of yours isn’t here right now, is she?”
She had a point. But I couldn’t just say I’d go with her. I was living a perfectly satisfying life already; I didn’t want to take the risk of following her.
But I was also afraid to refuse. I had no way of predicting how the witch before me would react if I rejected her.
What if she got angry and shot a spell at me? I would die. Whether my master got angry at her for killing her disciple was irrelevant—I would be dead.
The premonition of death made it hard to speak. My hands trembled, and one of them bumped the teacup, knocking it over.
“Ouch, hot—!”
My body, which had been frozen stiff and trembling, finally relaxed. I frantically brushed the hot tea from my thigh and looked up at her.
Meeting her intrigued gaze, I carefully bowed my head.
“...I’m sorry.”
“—For what?”
“I don’t think I can go with you.”
“Hmph. Am I lacking something? I think I’m better than that Evangeline girl.”
As she spoke, Margaret showed off her body. Her violet hair, braided to one side, was as beautiful as a wisteria flower, and the face and figure revealed beneath it were just as magnificent as my master’s.
However... “just as magnificent” also meant she didn’t surpass her.
“Yes. To be honest, you’re not as good as my master.”
“...Are you serious?”
“I am. Her face, her body... my master is more beautiful.”
Hearing my words, Margaret lowered her head and began to tremble. Anyone could see she was furious. Seeing that, I prepared for death.
Still, I had to say what I had to say. My master is prettier and has bigger boobs than you—
Thinking I was going to die anyway, I felt my inhibitions fade away. Ah, if I knew I was going to die like this, I should have just finished when I was jacking off earlier— they say people have regrets before they die, but why the hell am I regretting something like this...?
“...You.”
“Go on, kill me.”
“...Kill you? What are you talking about? Why would I kill you?”
Margaret tilted her head as if I was spouting nonsense. Huh, no way. Am I going to live? I looked at her with a flicker of hope, but she couldn’t control the trembling corners of her mouth as a wide grin bloomed on her face.
“I’m taking you with me.”
To me, those words sounded like a warning that she would make me suffer things worse than death. No, I’d rather just die, torture is a bit...
Just as I wondered if I should beg for forgiveness, my knees half-bent, the cabin door exploded inward with a loud BOOM—!
“Ugh!?”
“Yohan! Are you okay!?”
I staggered from the explosion and fell to the floor. Just then, my master appeared, stepping through the shattered remains of the door.
Seeing her magnificent form, my eyes welled with tears.
I was saved.
“Master—! This person was trying to kill me!”
“What? When did I—!”
“...Yohan.”
My master, who had burst into the house so urgently that she’d blown up the door, scanned the room and then looked at me with a puzzled expression.
“Who exactly were you talking to?”
“...What?”
“I heard you talking about killing and being killed, so I rushed over...”
Seeing my master’s confusion, I was the one who felt even more bewildered. With a trembling hand, I pointed at Margaret and asked.
“A-are you, by any chance— a ghost?”
“...Of course not.”
Margaret stared at me with a dumbfounded expression. But the shock of having seen a ghost was too much, and I fainted.
Watching Yohan collapse, Evangeline rushed forward to catch him. But before she could, Yohan’s body stopped abruptly in mid-air.
It was an unnatural sight, as if someone was holding him up. Seeing this, Evangeline realized who Yohan had been talking to.
“...Ritz? Are you there?”
Nod.
Margaret answered by making Yohan’s head nod. Seeing his head bob, Evangeline’s suspicion was confirmed.
“First, take Yohan to his room. You and I need to have a little talk.”
Nod.
After Yohan, still nodding, was taken to his room, Evangeline retrieved a piece of parchment and a quill pen, both brimming with magic power, from her workshop.
The quill pen floated up as if held by an invisible hand and began to etch words onto the parchment.
[Who is he?]
“My disciple, Yohan.”
[That’s not what I’m asking.]
“...I know. You’re asking how he can see you, right?”
Evangeline let out a soft sigh and looked toward where Margaret was surely sitting, though she remained invisible.
Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted anyone to find out. A human immune to a witch’s curse? If the other witches knew, they would see him as a prize so rare they’d drool over it.
Some of them would surely try to dissect Yohan to uncover his secret. If that happened, she would have to fight countless witches vying for him, and the likelihood of Yohan getting hurt in the process was high.
“Can you promise me? That you won’t tell anyone about this.”
[I promise.]
“Your word isn’t enough.”
With that, Evangeline brought out a potion she kept in her workshop. She placed the vial on the table with a thud and pushed it toward the empty space.
“It’s a potion made from my saliva. It contains my magic.”
[What kind?]
“Drink this. Then I’ll tell you.”
[Won’t this kill me?]
“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t tell anyone Yohan’s secret first, I won’t kill you either.”
Margaret stared intently at the liquid Evangeline offered. A magic potion made from a witch’s saliva. There was no telling what its effects might be. Drinking it was akin to suicide.
Nevertheless, Margaret began to gulp down the potion without hesitation. Having lived for so long, she had no lingering attachment to life.
All that remained was an obsession with the hope she had found for the first time in hundreds of years—a hope that might finally break her curse.
Watching her drink the potion, Evangeline smiled faintly and told her about Yohan’s identity.
“Yohan is... and this is just a guess, but he’s not from this world.”
[What does that mean?]
“It means he’s from a world where our world’s laws don’t apply.”
Of course, until now, it had only been a theory she hadn’t been able to confirm.
But today, after confirming that he could see Margaret with his own two eyes, Evangeline was certain that Yohan was a being immune to curses.
[Give him to me.]
“No, I can’t. Hehe, do you know what Yohan said to me? He said his master is the prettiest in the world. Doesn’t that mean he loves me? After hundreds of years, I’ve finally— I’ve finally met someone who loves me.”
As Evangeline suddenly began to flaunt their relationship, Margaret felt a surge of jealousy she couldn’t explain.
And so, she found herself telling a lie.
[He said I was prettier.]
The moment she wrote that, Margaret felt a chill so intense it was as if her entire body was shaking.
She slowly raised her head. Evangeline was staring at her with a blank expression, her eyes devoid of light. Although she shouldn’t have been able to see her, she was glaring at Margaret with unnerving accuracy.
“A lie.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Yohan, my Yohan, would never say that.”
“He said his master was the best. There’s no way he’d praise a nobody like you whom he just met today.”
“Yohan wouldn’t lie, which means you’re the one who’s lying, right?”
“Are you trying to drive a wedge between me and Yohan?”
“You want me to kill you?”
[It was a joke.]
“Oh— what! Ahaha, Ritz, you’ve gotten much better at joking while I haven’t seen you.”
Feeling a cold sweat trickle down her spine, Margaret watched her in silence. If she hadn’t said it was a joke just now, she might have lost her life.
For a great witch like Evangeline to be so obsessed with a single human... she couldn’t believe it even after seeing it with her own eyes.
‘...Then again.’
Looking at Evangeline, who had quickly returned to her usual self, Margaret thought it was plausible. Hadn’t she herself tried to get her hands on Yohan the moment she realized he was immune to curses?
And—it wouldn’t just be her. Every witch who saw him would become the same.
They would all cling to him, the one who could be their salvation.