The Witch's Bargain
Quest (1) People scream atop the burning pyre. Leon could only stare helplessly up at the sacrifice from below. The fall begins. In the endless plunge of despair, the faces of parents, brothers, sisters, neighbors, and cousins twist as they reach for him. The nightmare always ended the same way. Light cleaved the world—and the Evil God's priests—in two. From that moment on, Leon had only one goal: to eradicate evil and uphold justice. He had devoted his short life to nothing else.
“A revelation has been given. Seek the Holy Grail. The one who fulfills the revelation shall become the next Paladin.” That was why Leon had left the Holy Kingdom with a single sword in hand. All of it, for the sake of justice—
“Hey.”
A sudden voice jolted him awake. When he opened his eyes, a night sky full of stars stretched overhead. Crackle. A campfire burned. “Finally awake?”
Through his hazy mind, Leon lowered his gaze. A man's face flickered in the firelight. That man—right. A mercenary he had temporarily teamed up with. Merick. A rather cheerful fellow.
“Can't move your body, Leon?”
“Agh…”
“Guess not. That's a problem.”
Confusion flooded Leon. Why was he lying on the ground? Alcohol? There was no way an aspiring holy knight like him would drink. Absolutely not. Leon retraced his memories. They had been returning after completing a request. Night had fallen deep, and the city was still far, so they had set up camp. Merick had offered him a drink, but he refused. Then he had eaten the stew… the stew…
Leon lifted his head. Merick's lips curved upward in an unpleasant smile.
“No reaction means it's no good, huh. I thought I put in just the right amount, but maybe the dose was too strong?”
When Leon fell silent, unable to speak, laughter erupted from the side.
“Told you he's a lunatic. Can't keep it together whenever he sees a decent-looking guy.”
“Never thought I'd see someone mess with a holy knight. Isn't that asking for trouble if we get caught?”
“Trouble? Look at him—he's obviously just an apprentice on pilgrimage. And even if he really is a holy knight, so what? How would anyone know who killed him?”
“That's true enough.”
Leon reflexively reached for his waist, but his drugged body refused to obey. Merick had already approached and was staring down at him. Leon raised his head and glared. Perhaps that only provoked him further. Merick loosened his belt and whispered, “Let's see if that pretty face is worth anything.”
Excitement leaked from Merick's lips. A breeze stirred. Leon focused every ounce of will into his fingertips and glared at Merick. The surrounding trash began noisily placing bets, as if the scene were familiar. All sorts of voices cluttered his ears.
Swish. Trash, every last one of them. Slash. This is getting fun. Swish.Slash. Clink.
Suddenly, everyone froze. A clear, cheerful sound echoed through the deep forest—a sound that had no business being there.
Merick was the first to lift his head awkwardly. Leon followed, struggling to turn his own. The source of the sound. There, a single flame floated gently in the air. No—not a flame. In the darkness he had mistaken it at first, but it was a lantern. The lantern's owner spoke.
“It seems the holy knight is in quite the predicament. Am I correct?”
A woman had suddenly appeared from the forest at midnight, yet no one laughed crudely or made lewd remarks. Of course not. Anyone wandering alone through the woods at this hour with such composure was, nine times out of ten, one particular kind of person. A mage.
Merick moved his hand behind his back and signaled his companions. The gesture meant to circle around for a surprise attack. Leon tried to shout a warning, but his mouth wouldn't open. Whether she noticed or not, the lantern's owner continued calmly.
“I'll help you, but in return, could you help me as well? From what I've looked into, something like Complete Recovery isn't something people like me can easily receive.”
“D… don't…”
Just as Leon desperately tried to warn her to look behind, she spoke again.
“You want help? Then we have a deal.”
The flame stretched long, painting the air with light. “Aaaagh!” The mercenaries whose legs had melted rolled across the ground. Those who had been stealthily forming an encirclement and the hidden one who had slipped behind—all of them.
“You crazy bitch!” Merick, who had barely blocked the magic with a protective artifact, fled with his pants still undone. At the same time—whoosh!—Leon staggered to his feet and hurled his dagger, piercing Merick's thigh.
“Haa… haa… haa…”
Gasping for breath, Leon forced himself to vomit everything in his stomach. He rinsed his mouth with a waterskin and drank more to settle it. Gradually, his mind cleared. Sword drawn, he surveyed the mercenaries. Every single one had been struck precisely in the leg. It couldn't have been coincidence—she had aimed for that. Perhaps she was someone who disliked killing. That meant the lantern's owner intended to bind them all and escort them to the city. Since they were already half-crippled, it wouldn't be difficult. Leon himself didn't enjoy taking lives, so this outcome was more than welcome.
He approached the lantern's owner. “Thank you for saving me. I am Leon—”
“Just a moment.”
The lantern's owner cut him off and walked toward the mercenaries. Clink. The lantern swayed. Beneath the pouring starlight, she spoke as if singing.
“Do you possess any magic?”
“Ugh…”
“Are you willing to share your magic?”
“Guh… guh…”
“Are you willing to transfer your magic? How about this?”
“Monster!”
“Doesn't look like it.”
Six crimson lines split apart and drove into the earth. With that, the campsite fell into silence. Leon stared blankly, mouth agape at the shocking yet captivating sight. One image flashed through his mind. He blurted it out without thinking.
“Witch.”
The lantern's owner turned. Her robe fluttered, revealing her face. She smiled and moved her lips.
“Calling me a witch just from seeing my face? You have quite the blunt personality, Sir Leon.”
“No, that's not what I meant—”
*
The previous story. While watching the dance party between the holy knight and the mercenaries under the moonlight, I had no choice but to start a spectacular fireworks display for the debutante…
“Next.”
The soldier sent the previous traveler through. Finally, it was my turn. I stepped forward. The soldier frowned.
“Covering your face during inspection? What are you playing at?”
“Wait, that person is—”
Leon tried to stop the soldier in a hurry, but I was faster. I lifted my robe just enough. The soldier checked my face and clicked his tongue softly—the expression of someone who had seen something unpleasant. I pulled the robe back down and asked, “Am I cleared?”
“Next.”
Once we passed the gate, the bustling main street unfolded before us. I nodded at the crowd one would never see in a rural village.
“As expected, people should live in cities.”
“Lady Ruina. Are you all right?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Well…”
“Come to think of it, you called me a witch after seeing my face too, Sir Leon. To be treated like this… I might cry.”
“That wasn't what I meant…”
“I'm joking.”
I caught a child loitering near the gate and handed him a coin. He wiped it on his clothes and beamed. “Where shall I take you?”
“An inn. Somewhere with good food and clean beds, please.”
“Not looking for a high-class establishment, I assume?”
“No.”
“Understood!”
The child guided us to an inn. I looked up at the signboard: The Wind's Rest. Surprisingly, the same name had appeared in both my original hometown where I lived with my parents and the one where I lived with Kelton. There was no franchise in Happy Mid-land, so it was all coincidence, yet it made me realize once again that people's naming sense was much the same everywhere.
Inside, a moderate number of people were chatting—neither packed nor empty. The child had fulfilled my request perfectly. I had asked for guidance prepared for disappointment, but landing a winner on the first try meant today was lucky. I sat down and raised my hand to order.
“Two mugs of mead! And white bread and cheese, four portions each!”
“Wait. I don't drink.”
“I know.”
Leaving behind Leon, who was making a fuss all by himself, I downed the mead that had already arrived. Cool and sweet. Traditional mead was rarely sweet and often harsh, but this tasted like the mead from my memories. The power of magic, perhaps? As expected of Happy Mid-land.
“Two more mugs of mead over here!”
“Lady Ruina.”
“Yes?”
“Perhaps we should organize what we've discussed.”
Organize? Was the conversation really that complicated? I didn't think so. “There's nothing much to organize.”
“Still, I'd like to make it clear.”
“You saw my face and body, didn't you? I want to treat this. Full-body burns are practically harder to heal than regrowing limbs, you know. I was shocked when I heard a 5th-circle mage's entire life savings wouldn't be enough.”
“…The method is the same as regrowing limbs, but the number of areas that need treatment increases the difficulty. However, if limited to the face alone—”
“That won't do. It goes against our agreement.”
I cut him off firmly and continued. “Besides, I heard high-level holy magic like that isn't cast for just anyone. Word is, without connections, even donations get pocketed and forgotten.”
“The Church does not do such things.”
“There are actual victims, so defending it won't convince anyone. Anyway, if I suffer that kind of scam, who knows what I might do? I promised not to do anything dangerous. That's why I sought you out. Help me receive full-body Complete Recovery—whether by recommendation or by using your authority.”
It was a very precise request, yet Leon wore a troubled expression.
“I can recommend you as much as you like, but it won't have any effect. I'm merely an apprentice.”
“Is that so?”
“Therefore, I have almost no authority either.”
“So you're completely useless? I should've just enjoyed some passionate love instead.”
“If I become a Paladin, anything would be possible, but promising something with no guarantee would make me a fraud. I'm truly sorry, but it would be faster to find someone else. Separately, I will definitely repay this debt.”
“Can you become a Paladin? You couldn't even detoxify a single paralyzing drug.”
“…Becoming a Paladin is immediate once the Church's mission is completed.”
A light scratch, and the hidden secret popped right out. Though perhaps he had answered more leniently because I was his benefactor. Completing the Church's mission would make him a Paladin. Hmm. Hiss. I lit my pipe and took a deep drag, then exhaled the smoke.
“Very well.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I'll help you with that mission. But you have to keep your promise, all right?”
Anyway, I had planned to wander around earning money for a while. Helping one apprentice holy knight along the way wouldn't hurt. If he proved useless, I could just discard him. If he showed potential, I could switch over. This was a professional move that guaranteed no losses. All thanks to my master's excellent teachings.