Chapter 221
Chapter 221
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 221
Chapter Title: Witch
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Witch.
They were a free-spirited bunch in every sense of the word.
A few rather materialistic witches had leveraged their connection to our atelier to join the Magic Bureau, but witches being witches, they loved doing their own thing. Plenty of them still hung out in deserts or deep in the woods, off on their own.
The reason witches had developed this freewheeling vibe was thanks to that nightmare of a measurement system called yards and pounds.
Since witches channeled magic with the help of spirits, they often researched intuitively, going by feel and patching things together haphazardly. As a result, a lot of them swore by ergonomic units that were forgiving enough to use roughly.
That got them cursed out and shunned by wizards and magic engineers who preferred more systematic approaches.
I was used to the metric system, so sure, I grumbled about it too. But even setting that aside, yards and pounds were disgusting.
Way too ergonomic and user-friendly—in the worst way. Compatibility between users was nonexistent.
You might think that's nonsense, but unlike my previous world where they'd tried to standardize measurements, here yards and pounds were literally measured by hand.
An inch was the width of a thumb joint. A foot was... well, a foot.
Which led to the miracle where the same "inch" could yield wildly different results.
I was shocked when I learned that.
Not just that they used this repulsive system, but that they somehow produced results with it.
Clothes feel uncomfortable if they're off by even a centimeter, yet here magic worked fine despite that sloppiness. How could it not shock me?
So why was I suddenly ranting about how witches were a crazy lot?
Because right now, I was once again stunned by them.
"This is it, right...?"
"According to the directions, yeah, this should be the place."
"Uh..."
We'd passed through the stark, lab-like wizard district and the spirit shaman area with its plants and animals giving off a nature-friendly vibe, finally arriving at the witches' district.
"Ehehehe...!"
"Heehee...!"
And what we witnessed there were witches wandering around under dim, creepy lighting, half-naked and looking utterly lascivious.
"Did we take a wrong turn or something?"
"...The signs say this is the witches' district, though?"
"Umm..."
I rubbed my eyes, refusing to believe a Magic Bureau could house something like a brothel, and checked the signs again. No change.
Whenever I'd run into them before over material issues, they had a sultry air, sure—but nothing this vulgar...
"Should we head back...?"
"His Imperial Majesty gave us the order, though?"
"Damn it."
I wanted to turn tail, small gifts for the staff or whatever be damned, but since the Emperor himself had asked, backing out wasn't an option.
"Damn it."
Irritated, I straightened my tie and cautiously stepped into the witches' district.
One step. Two steps.
The moment I crossed the boundary into their territory proper...
"......"
The heads of the witches milling through the halls snapped toward us in unison.
Their eerie appearance made me want to bolt.
"A wizard we've never seen before?"
"Is he even a wizard? I don't sense any mana or spirit energy."
"Hey, who comes here if they're not a wizard?"
"Lost his way? He looks young—probably a newbie."
"If he's not a wizard, everyone cover up first. We'll catch hell later if word gets out."
But seeing them glance our way, whispering, then hastily covering up... my tension melted away.
Just a bunch of sloppy folks. Lucky hikikomori who could use spirits and shamanism.
"Heh..."
Realizing that, a hollow laugh escaped me.
I'd gotten spooked for nothing.
"What brings such fine gentlemen and lovely ladies to our humble abode?"
As I watched one witch—the oldest-looking among them—finally tidy her clothes and try to salvage her image, she approached lightly and spoke amiably.
"I am Count William Henry Howard, come at the behest of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor and Margrave Hume of the frontier to aid the witches. I hear you need help—do you know where Lady Ailin Kaya is?"
"Ailin?"
The witch frowned at the name, hand on her hip, then turned and bellowed back.
"Hey! Anyone know where Ailin is right now?"
"Ailin? Isn't she doing experiments?"
"She was up till dawn messing with her cauldron yesterday—probably sleeping."
"Come on, doesn't anyone actually know?"
"You're asking us when you don't even know yourself?"
"Ahem..."
Group intelligence yielded zilch. The witch cleared her throat awkwardly and looked away from the others.
"I'll take you to Ailin's office for now."
"Much obliged."
She shrugged, pointed to the end of the hall, and led the way.
As I followed a step behind, the other witches crept along, surrounding us like a pack.
"How old are you, Mr. Count?"
"How old's the lady next to you?"
"What's your relationship?"
"Lovers? Are you lovers?"
"Could be his wife."
"Doesn't look like it, status-wise."
"Forbidden love? Forbidden love!"
"Kyaa~"
"......"
The witches chattered like baby birds, making my head spin.
"Oh wow~ Look at that sister's smooth skin. What skincare do you use?"
"She isn't even wearing makeup!"
"No makeup and skin like that? Sister, can I study your skin a bit?"
"Uh, questions one at a—ugh... don't poke my cheeks!"
Poor Emily, same gender as them, had witches swarming her, touching her cheeks and hair. Her eyes were spinning.
"Girls, the guests are uncomfortable. Slow down."
"But Aisun sis, look at her skin—it's baby smooth! How does she do it? You've been complaining about wrinkles lately..."
"Sayla, want to die?"
"......"
I was pondering how to handle this when a slip of the tongue defused things absurdly.
Mentioning wrinkles to a woman pushing forty? Bold move—if she only had one life.
Were witches really like the legends, with nine lives?
"......"
Nah. Seeing them all clamp their mouths shut at Aisun's words, they were just thoughtless.
The air turned icy thanks to that brainless comment, but it beat the headache-inducing racket from before.
"What are you all doing clustered up at this hour?"
As we walked the quiet hall a bit further, a clear voice rang out from beyond the wall of witches.
"Sister Ailin!"
One witch's shout parted the crowd around us.
There stood a mature woman about Aisun's age, arms crossed, eyeing us and the witches sternly.
"Hm?"
Lady Ailin, glaring at them with displeasure, met my gaze. Her expression softened grudgingly as she approached.
"Don't recognize you. What do you want? If you're lost, head back quick. The witches' district isn't safe for civilians."
"I've come at the Emperor's and Margrave Hume's command to help the witches. His Majesty tasked me with resolving your issues."
"His Majesty? Ah!"
Her face lit up in realization. Eyes wide, she hurried over and grabbed my arm.
"Perfect timing. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise. So, what kind of help does a non-mage like me need to provide?"
"Details in my office. Aisun, grab some tea and snacks!"
"Hey, look at this wench casually bossing me around."
Lady Ailin offhandedly dumped the chores on Aisun and dragged me to her office.
Deep in the witches' district, her office felt more antique than the others. She shoved me inside, sat me in a chair, then plopped down opposite with a beaming smile.
"I've been desperately waiting for someone like you."
Her eyes sparkled earnestly. For a second, I wondered if she'd mistaken me for a long-lost lover.
"Sorry, but what do you mean by 'someone like you'?"
"A talented tailor without prejudices. We've run into trouble with clothes lately."
"Tailor, huh..."
I narrowed my eyes and scratched my neck.
Now it made even less sense.
Why would they desperately seek out a mere tailor like me? People in clothing binds didn't show off like that first thing, and these self-centered types hardly seemed the type to feel troubled.
"Can't think of why witches would desperately hunt for a humble tailor like me. What do you want me to do?"
Leaning back with a soft smile, legs crossed, Lady Ailin replied.
"I'd like you to make uniforms for the witches."
"Uniforms?"
"Yes, uniforms. Elegant ones to elevate our status."
"Hmm...?"
I frowned at her.
Free-spirited witches wanting uniforms that somewhat curbed their freedom?
"Tell me the whole story."
"It might be long. That okay?"
"Of course."
This was getting interesting.