The Witch's Favor
Knowing that Founder was busy—and that her busyness stemmed from me—I only managed to escape Arke's sparkling, expectant gaze after promising to get permission on her behalf. "You must remember that a witch's covenant is never to be broken."
"Don't worry. From what Nero told me, you enjoy making things too, so she might take an interest first and come looking for you."
"I only hope I can meet her before this half-hearted heart of mine stops from excitement..."
Her face had turned into that of a girl hopelessly in love as she rubbed the solid restraint against her soft cheek. Unable to stay still any longer, she began showering it with praise. "This restraint is very similar in form to our witches' magic, yet wonderfully original. Echina Torzta—it is nothing short of a masterpiece."
"...Everything Founder makes is always amazing and unique."
"Oh? So you can appreciate its greatness?"
I didn't really understand, but I nodded along to keep the conversation going. She brightened and launched into an explanation. "This restraint combines three independent concepts—blockade, restraint, and suggestion—each with complex conditions clearly defined within them."
"Aha-ha..."
"Blockade detects abilities that deviate from the ordinary. Restraint includes automatic release based on results. Suggestion transfers Stigma command authority to a qualified target. But the most wondrous part is that this highest-grade medium contains all these intricate concepts...!"
Even though I was listening carefully, her explanation was difficult to follow. I wasn't sure if it really applied to the simple black metal lump before us.
"That's enough, 77. You're making my head spin... It's dizzying, nya."
Nero's speech pattern shifted after a brief hesitation. Living under a witch as her master must not have been entirely comfortable.
"Hmm... I am no longer a prisoner, so there is no need to be called that anymore. Though the number 77 was perfect and complete for something born of coincidence, so I rather liked it."
"If you wish, I can remove it for you."
"What is that...?"
The miniature Undine, now able to rise from my palm at will, was apparently enough to catch the little witch's interest. But for some reason, her colorless eyes briefly shimmered with rainbow hues as she peered closely at my palm—then she recoiled in shock, pressing herself back against the wheelchair.
"The original's annihilation and assimilation of all that is imperfect and unnecessary... What a chilling concept of pure, greedy desire..."
"Arke?"
"I-I haven't made any mistakes, have I, Counselor? My way of speaking isn't meant to look down on anyone, it's just... that is..."
Her previously confident voice faltered and trembled. It didn't seem like acting—she was genuinely frightened. If it had been Undine's full form, the sheer size might have been intimidating, but the mini version was only cute. Maybe I should have shown her the proper form. She had probably greeted Arke with that adorable voice.
"Of course not. I was only trying to erase the number..."
"Hik... I-It's fine now."
She waved her hands frantically, eyes wide with fear, so I cleared my palm. Only then did she relax, patting her chest in relief.
"Where in the world did you pull out something so terrifying...?"
After the small commotion, we headed toward the isolation room Nero had stayed in before. Until Founder could repurpose Arke's original room, she would stay there. Unlike Scarlet or Dorothy, Arke hadn't attacked or shown hostility, so she was allowed to remain inside the facility. Depending on how cooperative she proved to be, they would accommodate her as much as possible. I was quietly surprised by how eagerly Team Leader promised Arke good treatment. Whether good or bad, witches were far more capable and fearsome than my previous notions of them—whether luring children with candy shops or helping a pitiful woman attend a ball in glass slippers.
Still, since there remained a slight chance of possession from her original body, her movements would be restricted. I hoped we could reach a smooth agreement. Then again, she hadn't possessed Scarlet or Dorothy despite their recent lack of contact. Perhaps she had simply forgotten them, treating them as disposable tools for her goals. It wasn't an entirely implausible guess.
"By the way, did Counselor give you your current name?"
"Yeah. No, that's right, nya."
"Hmm... In our witches' tongue, Nero means 'pouch.' Thinking of the leather pouch used to store sticky liquids for alchemy makes this body feel rather warm in the face."
"..."
A leather pouch for holding sticky liquids... I turned to Nero, whose face had flushed bright red as if silently asking if it was true, and desperately shook my head.
"I-I couldn't possibly know witches' language. You didn't know either, right, Nero?!"
"Th-That's right... nya."
"I would never think of you that way!"
The misunderstanding was quickly cleared, but my own face had grown hot. I worried I would become self-conscious every time I called Nero's name from now on.
"Anyway, it seems you've taken quite a liking to your new master."
"...Yeah."
Nero nodded shyly. The relationship between her and Arke felt like a daughter introducing her boyfriend to her young mother. Of course, appearances suggested the opposite.
"77—or should I call you Arke too, nya?"
"Counselor has already been granted permission to use that name, so calling me by name alone is fine. We are, so to speak, soulmates."
"Well, to outsiders, I clearly look like the older sister, nya."
Nero, pushing the wheelchair, had the mature figure of a grown woman. With those alluring eyes and gentle smiles, few men could resist her. In contrast, Arke's petite, delicate frame—more suited to someone Yerin might befriend—made her seem a bit too young to pass as Nero's peer.
"Hmph. I am not envious of a body whose chest and hips sway lewdly with every step. This body's youthful, innocent face and immature figure—still brimming with endless potential for growth—are closer to truth. A cute beautiful girl is, in herself, a complete and perfect concept."
"So what happened to your originally black hair, nya?"
"Hm? Has it turned this white already?"
She hadn't even realized it herself.
"A witch's aging is caused by stress. To remain a beautiful girl forever, I redirected all aging into my hair. After everything that happened, it turned out this way in such a short time."
"..."
Witch aging came from stress—and that stress was undoubtedly the Stigma's punishment that had lasted over half a year.
"Right now it looks dry and has lost its beauty, but there is no problem this adorable genius alchemist girl cannot solve. White hair might not be so bad either."
"...Ugh."
Nero bit her lip, unable to respond cheerfully to Arke's lighthearted words, her heart clearly heavy. Then Arke's small hand reached over her shoulder and gently rested atop Nero's hand on the wheelchair handle.
"So you need not blame yourself. Thanks to you staying alive and healthy, I was able to meet another connection and continue living."
"...I understand, nya..."
Even now, that cute syllable at the end of her sentences made it hard to focus on the mood, but I was genuinely relieved their relationship still seemed good.
"And Counselor."
"Ah, yes!"
Arke suddenly called my name and turned her head. Nero stopped the wheelchair, and I halted as well, meeting her gaze.
"...Please take good care of our cat."
"Huh?"
She could speak so properly?
"This body knows the proper tone to use when making a request."
'Makatasrama Zuhusamudea seems to like her current master very much. And seeing how she commands something so terrifying, she must be no ordinary person.'
Her suddenly formal speech felt awkward for a moment, but it only made her affection for Nero more apparent. It was only natural—she had even shared half her soul with her.
"It was a whim born of loneliness, yet it feels like only yesterday we made the contract. Already she is leaving my embrace..."
Her tone was like a parent sending off a child. While I felt grateful for her entrusting Nero to me, Nero tugged insistently at my sleeve.
"...Master, can't Arke live with us too?"
"If that's what you want, I'm fine with it."
I nodded without hesitation at Nero's quiet request whispered near my ear. But Arke, having heard, smiled wryly and shook her head.
"If I stay between a man and woman in the heat of passion, I might end up flushed red like heated iron myself."
"Th-That's..."
"This body has some sense of tact. I have no intention of setting up my workshop in a noisy love nest."
Nero had succeeded in her transformation because she could decide the form of the soul she strongly desired. Moreover, that form carried a heavy dose of my preferences... It wasn't strange that Arke had instantly seen through our relationship after seeing Nero's alluring figure and face, clearly crafted to seduce a man.
"Love can take the form of binding someone to keep them close, but it can also take the form of cheering them on so they may fly freely wherever they wish."
From those words, I could clearly feel that she was a good witch. I felt relieved knowing Nero had come into this world under such a wonderful master. And thinking that we might continue to save prisoners suffering under Stigma made me restless. Of course, this time I hadn't done anything—she had discovered the conditions herself and freed herself.
"However... this body gets lonely more easily than it looks, so you must visit my workshop often."
"I can bring Nero along too, right?"
"Yes...! Of course. Well, it's not exactly compensation, but if you need anything, I will make it for you."
"Oh, anything..."
Shamefully, faced with Arke offering to make anything, I had to forcefully swallow the single word that had risen to my throat recently. That was the situation. But then—
"Th-Then, something like a male vitality potion...! Could you make that too?"
My efforts were in vain. Nero blurted it out without a second thought, making my vision go white.
"...Nya."
She added the "nya" belatedly, but that wasn't the issue. Truthfully, I had thought the same. If she was an alchemist... maybe she could make something like that? At least a highly effective fatigue recovery potion... or a nutritional supplement...
"...A vitality potion, is it? Well, it was a common custom order from high-ranking nobles since ancient times, and historically one of witches' main sources of income, but..."
"Ahem... ahem..."
Her glare was painful. I could tell without hearing any inner voice just how intensely she was staring. Since everything was already exposed, there was no point pretending to be innocent anymore.
"From my side as well... I would like to... make the request."
One thing I could say for certain: Nero's selfish order would greatly contribute to the catastrophic developments that followed.