#032 The Witch
It started with fear.
A stranger had emerged from the darkness, wielding magic so advanced she couldn’t even begin to unravel it. And it wasn’t even chanted magic—it was silent casting. What terrified her most was the debuff that completely paralyzed her limbs. When she heard Christian’s screams from the next room, all she could do was tremble and pray she would make it home safely.
To survive, she had sucked his cock. To survive, she had spread her legs. Even as tears streamed down her face from the agony of her most precious place being torn open, she desperately rolled her hips.
All to survive…
At some point she lost consciousness. When she came to again, the only ones left in the villa were her and that idiot Christian. There wasn’t a single trace of what had happened. No evidence of their frenzied coupling. Aside from a faint soreness between her legs, everything was peaceful, as if the night’s events had been nothing but a dream.
Yes… exactly like a dream…
To forget that nightmare, she had shut herself in her room for a long time. She had lived her life fearing nothing, yet that experience had been too horrifying.
So when that man’s cock appeared above her head once more, she had sucked it with desperate fervor—recalling the memory of that day, doing it again today to survive. To make it through this moment alive.
But this time he really did nothing. He simply let it pass.
The dissatisfaction that bloomed in her chest at that moment confused her.
What is this? Why am I…
She sat quietly and watched the man’s actions. He possessed a cock so enormous it defied description. With that brutish thing he had mercilessly trampled and violated her friends’ most precious places. It was painful even to watch; her brow furrowed instinctively.
Yet… what was this feeling?
Her body grew hot. An unbearable itch spread between her legs. She wanted to tear her clothes off from the frustration.
His performance continued for hours.
And as she watched, she gradually lost something. Was it her reason? Her dignity as a noble? Her pride?
She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but that day she had definitely lost it. When the man tried to leave, she found herself grabbing onto him.
“I… I want it too…”
After that, she kept losing and regaining consciousness. The burning heat in her body was relieved, but in exchange her mind was completely incinerated. The sensation of something thick and full flooding her belly came again and again. Then—
Click.
She blacked out.
“Hey, Isabel!”
At the familiar voice, her eyes snapped open. Her three friends were waking up the rest of the group, including her. They yawned lazily and grumbled.
“Ugh… did I drink too much yesterday?”
“No kidding. My stomach’s been growling nonstop.”
“Ugh, you fucking bitch… you’re seriously disgusting. But honestly, same here. Hehe.”
She shook her head a couple of times and looked down at herself. She was certain she had been completely naked, tangled with that man all night… yet she was clean. Her clothes were perfectly back in place. There wasn’t even the slightest sticky sensation. Aside from a faint soreness below, everything felt normal.
Was it… a dream?
It felt real enough to wonder. But then the memory resurfaced—how she had grabbed the man’s hand as he was leaving and said she wanted it too.
Her face flushed crimson. Like a madwoman, she shot up from her seat and bolted for the bathroom.
Her friends’ loud laughter followed behind her.
“Hehe! Looks like Isabel’s stomach is acting up too, girls!”
“Hey, I’m next, so make sure you shit cleanly!”
But their words scattered from her mind almost instantly. All that remained was overwhelming shame at her own behavior from the night before.
I must be crazy. Completely insane. Why on earth would I say something like that…
I want it too… of all things!
Every time the thought resurfaced, she splashed her face with cold water. She repeated the act for a long while until her friends, desperate for the bathroom themselves, dragged her out. Only then did she finally stop.
Burying her face in her pillow, she let out a silent scream.
Please let last night be a dream! A dream!!
After safely returning the two children who had been assaulted by noble ladies to their home, he walked back toward the academy at a leisurely pace.
Because it was festival season, every alley in the capital was in complete chaos. Trash rolled across the ground, and drunkards lay collapsed everywhere. He suspected the pickpockets had enjoyed quite a profitable night.
He lifted his head. The morning sun had risen, brightly illuminating the capital. Today marked the fourth day of the festival.
Originally he would have been moving to fulfill his promise with Beres—who was probably sulking by now—but after last night’s heated romp, he finally had some free time.
As he pondered what to do, Beres spoke up.
‘It hasn’t even been three hours since we devoured seven people, sis?’
‘More… is better?’
Anyway. He lightly ignored her words and thought again. Maybe visit a nearby waterfall to refresh his mood? Or take some time to go fishing after so long…
But Beres grumbled as if she truly hated the idea.
‘If I wanted that I’d go night fishing. I just need some time to organize my thoughts.’
Time for contemplation was always necessary. He hadn’t realized it when he was young, but as he grew older it became clear. Quiet moments. Sitting alone, deeply pondering something philosophical.
Apparently Beres hated that. Being trapped for a thousand years had made her sick of contemplation, or so she claimed.
‘Who?’
‘Freyer?’
Freyer Ron Icecrown. The heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Icecrown, located in the northern part of the empire. It wasn’t a small nation by any means—it possessed territory half the size of the Kshanberg Empire. However, most of its land was buried in snow, its rivers and seas frozen year-round, making it far from ideal for human habitation. With its many mountain ranges, it was also teeming with monsters. As a result, the nation relied more on hunting than farming.
‘In that sense, every single citizen possesses formidable combat strength.’
‘A normal hunter can take on three to five well-trained soldiers.’
‘That’s why they made a proposal. An implicit alliance. In exchange for sending their prince to this academy for five years, we would deliver a fixed amount of food coming up from the south each year. That country always suffers from food shortages.’
The moment the thought of which fishing rod to use crossed his mind, Beres began coaxing him in earnest. She seemed to grow restless if nothing interesting happened, even for a moment.
‘Still no.’
‘Sorry, but she’s not at the academy right now. She was probably invited to the imperial palace. Like a princess.’
Beres finally fell silent. Satisfied, he smiled and headed toward the fishing spot he often visited.
But then the quiet Beres suddenly shouted again, as if she had discovered a ray of hope.
‘Sigh… Who is it this time?’
‘Aria Plainble?!’
He quickly turned his head. Her face was hidden beneath a black robe, but the features visible beneath it confirmed it. It was definitely Aria Plainble. She was glancing around furtively as she hurried toward some destination.
‘Not sure. Let’s follow her for now.’
Beres’s voice regained its energy. He thought he even heard her mutter that it was a good thing it wasn’t fishing.
‘Sigh… Looks like I’ll have to give up fishing until our great cause is complete.’
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Aria Plainble. The professor in charge of alchemy potions at the Imperial Academy, known as the shadow of Chancellor Pellermil. Nobles called her Hardrens’ hound, their bitch, because she carried out any filthy order without hesitation.
But she hadn’t done those things out of loyalty to Pellermil. She had simply been caught by her weakness.
If only I had been born normal…
She was a mixed-blood. A demon and human hybrid. Since it had happened in her grandmother’s generation, she was technically a quarter, but according to the magic society’s classification, she was a witch. Unlike half-demons, she possessed sufficient humanity, yet her natural lifespan approached two hundred years. In some ways, she was a being that could never truly be classified as human.
The problem was that in the Kshanberg Empire, witches were executed.
I should have just disappeared instead of accepting that proposal back then…
A passing priest had exposed her father’s demon blood, and everyone connected to him had been executed. Whether it was good or bad luck, she had been taken in by Pellermil’s father. She had discarded her family name and done whatever he ordered—any task, whether in the light or in the shadows.
Time passed. When he died and his son Pellermil became the family head, she had tried to leave. She believed she had repaid the debt of her life sufficiently. But he refused to let her go. Using words that bordered on blackmail, he had whispered sweet promises.
If you help me, I’ll speak favorably to Prince Kenesis and secure you a count’s—no, a marquis’s title. I’ll restore your family’s honor as well. The honor that was lost due to misunderstanding and extermination.
It had been an incredibly tempting offer. She too was a noble’s daughter. Her attachment to her family was no less than that of any other noble. So she had accepted.
Though she felt uneasy about how Pellermil kept claiming her achievements as his own, she had endured, dreaming of the day her fortune would finally turn.
But yesterday… for the first time, she had failed to complete her mission. No—it would be more accurate to say she had completely screwed up. As a result, the second prince’s faction had been thrown into chaos. The academy had been their foundation for gaining power, yet it had all been stolen by the third empress, the one connected to the third princess.
I have to run.
They would definitely hold someone responsible. She wasn’t sure if the blame would fall on her, but… there was no one more convenient than her. After all, she knew every dirty secret of the Hardrens and the second prince’s faction.
Today, while Pellermil is away at the imperial palace, is the perfect opportunity. If I don’t escape now, there’s no telling what they’ll do to me.
She entered the building she had prepared in advance and packed all her belongings. There wasn’t much. Thirty years of accumulation amounted to nothing more than a small pouch of coins, a magic wand, and the necklace her mother had left her.
Once she had everything, she hurried toward the capital’s south gate. Her plan was to cross the sea to the south and hide in the tropical rainforest. She was certain that even Pellermil wouldn’t be able to reach her in the land where elves and various beastmen lived.
But the goddess of fortune had clearly turned her back on her.
After riding a carriage from the south gate for about an hour into the forest, the carriage suddenly stopped. The coachman leaped down and fled in a panic.
Ah…
The cart had a frame with cloth draped over it, so she couldn’t see what was happening outside. But one thing was certain—the situation had gone horribly wrong. Killing intent surged from every direction, pressing down even on her inside the carriage.
Slow steps approached. When she stepped down from the carriage, familiar faces came into view. They were the ones who had carried out Pellermil’s dirty work alongside her.
“Long time no see, Aria.”
A man with ash-gray hair stepped forward as their representative.
She looked at him and spoke quietly. “Crack, can’t you just let me go?”
“You know we can’t. We’re all doing this to survive~”
“Then why don’t you all leave with me? Pellermil is dangerous. You never know when he’ll discard you too.”
The others began to laugh. They laughed for a long time. The man called Crack shook his head to clear the laughter before answering.
“The lines of people trying to escape are all the same… Well, you’re not wrong. But not right now. We need more money.”
“If you keep thinking like that, you’ll never escape. Not until you die.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of ourselves. Worst case, we kill you, take the reward, and run tomorrow.”
The man drew his sword. The others were already holding their weapons.
Aria backed toward the carriage, searching for an opening.
“It’s useless. You know why, right?”
Yes. There were fifteen enemies. Even if she used magic to take out two or three, another’s sword would immediately take her head.
Still, she couldn’t give up like this. She hadn’t endured thirty years just to die a dog’s death here.
The group slowly closed in. She bit her lip. If she had known this would happen, she would have brought every potion she could carry.
But at that moment, the men surrounding her suddenly lost strength and began collapsing to the ground.
“Huh…?”
“Urk… W-what…?!”
It was magic—she could feel the flow of mana. She traced it and quickly looked toward the forest on the right.
A man was smiling and waving.
It was a familiar face. She had often seen it while secretly observing classes to sabotage the princess’s lessons.
If my memory is correct… he’s the teaching assistant for practical magic.
But why was he here? And how had he rendered this many people combat incapable in a single move? It was unbelievable. That one of the fewer than ten greatest experts in the empire stood before her—and that such a person was merely a teaching assistant.
The man walked slowly out of the forest. There were people writhing on the ground in his path, but he stepped over them as naturally as if they were roadside pebbles.
When he reached her, he bowed politely.
“Professor Aria Plainble, correct? This is the first time we’ve greeted each other formally. My name is Kael Cleanberry. And today, I am the one who will force a choice upon you.”
“What do you…?”
“Now, choose. Front or back.”
“……?”
“Ah, was my explanation too brief? My mistake. Let me ask again.”
The man smiled brightly. His expression was so innocent that, had the men not been writhing on the ground, she might have mistaken him for a simple country boy.
He glanced around once, then smiled sweetly and said,
“Choose. Pussy or asshole.”