Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Witch of the Western Forest
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She was a woman who could flash a vibrant smile like a field bursting with flowers.
The woman wearing that smile looked utterly pure, untouched by even the slightest blemish.
The woman wearing that smile seemed gentle enough to embrace everyone's mistakes and shortcomings.
A smile always bloomed across the woman's face.
The same held true now.
The hero pulled a head from the blood-soaked sack.
The citizens erupted in cheers.
The Witch of the Western Forest was dead.
Signs of dusk were beginning to settle in.
Teacher and student parted ways, promising to meet tomorrow.
Pamon left the Bendel mansion and stepped straight into the streets.
Her footsteps bounced along in a lively rhythm, light bordering on jaunty.
The hem of her purple robe fluttered in sync.
Duran was floored by Pamon's demeanor, clicking his tongue in disbelief.
He was a book, but he clicked it anyway.
"Huh? Used to what?"
"Me?"
"Oh, Duran. Doesn't it smell weird?"
"I'm a book."
"Did I say that~?"
"Duran, see that statue over there? Hideous... What makes them so proud to display something like that? Human aesthetics."
"By universal standards, it may lack artistic value, but aesthetically, it's not bad. Especially compared to all those trinkets you hung up in your hut."
"I don't remember~"
"Ugh~ The ground feels weird~"
"Really? I think it's a pretty well-paved road."
"My mistake. Should've worn higher heels."
"While you're in the city, just buy new ones. Shoes are everywhere here."
"No way~ They're probably hideous things made from leather crudely stripped by brutish hunters. You want me to wear that~?"
"...Ahem~"
"So stuffy. Why are there so many humans?"
"It's a city."
"Don't they feel cramped, all huddled up in a tight space like this? They remind me of those long-legged spiders crammed into narrow burrows."
"You used to call those creepy things cute, and now you're comparing humans—who you're suddenly grossed out by—to them?"
"What I mean is~ Humans gather like those spiders without even being close, living all packed together. That's why they tear each other down and fight all the time—"
"..."
"Yeah. And here we are."
"Duran, you wouldn't get it, but the fun books are always hidden in places like this."
"I was just out of breath from walking so long?"
"...Oh~ Look at this book, Duran. Claims to be by a herb expert, but everything's wrong~ So amusing~"
Playing innocent in front of a book?
Duran recalled their prior exchange word for word with the memory befitting his appearance.
Pamon fidgeted, glancing sideways—
"Ah~"
The moment Duran brought up that spot, the library annex, she clapped excitedly.
"Right! That book. The one Rishir was reading. Totally forgot. I'll borrow it when I have time~ A book about cats. The city really does have everything, huh?"
Duran scoffed at Pamon's antics, equally floored.
No nose since he was a book, but he scoffed anyway.
"Huh?"
"Warehouse? That'd be rude to my friends, Duran."
"Besides, on second thought, that won't do. Since I'm out of the forest after so long, shouldn't I savor the city's wonders?"
"Forest folk have that rough side, you know~"
"You know Dark Elves are the race of adaptation. That's how we survive in those wild woods, right?"
Tap.
Pamon's ceaseless, rhythmic steps finally halted.
"Ah. Here it is."
The last topic in her parting chat with Rishir had been Haeren.
Sudden as it was—and for reasons unknown—Pamon had grown curious about Haeren, grilling her disciple on all things city-related.
"In Rishir's view, what's the coolest spot in this city?"
Conversations started that way at first.
Every question prefixed with "Rishir."
What Rishir thought—
What Rishir believed—
Her disciple answered with utmost sincerity, hoping his teacher would have a good time.
That earnestness sparked a competitive fire in his teacher.
"Then, is there a place like that? Somewhere Rishir hasn't been to yet but is curious about."
She was his teacher, after all.
Her plan: visit spots her disciple hadn't experienced first, then share her impressions.
Wasn't it a fine way to tour the city?
Sharing experiences with a local disciple.
"Sigh~ Should've packed more outfits if I knew. Rishir must think: 'My teacher's been in the same clothes for a week—must not be well-off~ Her social standing can't be that high~'"
This was the "place Rishir hasn't been to yet but is curious about."
"A cafe, huh? So this is what the humans are into these days?"
Rishir, hearing "cafe," first pictured a shop with a mermaid sign slinging bitter burnt-bean brew.
But the cafe before Pamon was far removed from his imagination.
In the city, a cafe was a social hub.
A gathering spot for those with refinement, decorum, and status to exchange ideas and build bonds.
"Lots of kids Rishir's age here."
Just as Pamon moved to enter—
Thud!
Her body was shoved aside.
A woman had shouldered past Pamon.
"Oh. Pardon me."
Known among nobles as Lady Moira, she turned back as if to apologize—
"What the—? A Dark Elf?"
Staring into Pamon's eyes, she flashed a sadistic grin.
Moira's entourage closed in, surrounding Pamon.
"Who knows? Wanted to experience the sights vividly?"
Their magically veiled voices reached only each other.
Conversation over, Pamon bowed gracefully to Moira.
"My apologies. I must've been lost in thought."
Pfft.
What came back was stifled mockery.
"A Dark Elf playing noble?"
Moira eyed Pamon's robe like an appraiser.
"What's this? Kids, take a look. Ever seen fabric like that?"
"From the East? I hear Eastern goods are all the rage in the capital lately."
"So elegant. Whoever owns it must be loaded."
"Sure seems that way."
Moira leaned in close, whispering low.
"Where'd a filthy Dark Elf like you get something so fine, hmm?"
"Don't be too harsh. Maybe she saved up from honest work? Thieving pays pretty well, after all."
"Or fleeced some country noble? Scaring them with spells and curses."
Pamon's expression didn't shift.
She still wore her vibrant smile.
"If we're done, I'll be going."
As Pamon stepped forward, Moira blocked her.
"Where to?"
"I'm interested in the shop behind you."
"Oh? Too bad, then. This isn't a place for lowly scum like you."
Moira nodded to her escort, Garon.
He approached Pamon, speaking in a gruff, curt tone.
Emphasizing the sword at his waist.
"Hey, Dark Elf. Show your pass."
The hostile vibe drew every eye.
Moira smiled elegantly at the crowd.
"Sorry, everyone. My fault for the commotion. I'll sort it quick—bear with us?"
Garon nodded at her glance.
"I'll hand her to the guard."
As he roughly seized Pamon's arm—
"..."
The light faded from Garon's pupils.
He froze mid-motion.
"Pardon me. Any of you from the Bendel Family?"
Pamon asked.
"What? Bendel?"
"How dare you sully their name with that filthy mouth?"
"Ah. Thanks for the polite reply?"
As Pamon finished, Garon moved.
Smack!
A sharp, resounding slap echoed.
Again.
And again.
"Kyaaah!!! Garon!! What are you doing?!"
"What the— Aaaah!!! You hit me!? You hit me?!"
Garon's hand moved with precision.
Leaving massive handprints on each noble cheek.
"Lady Moira's orders..."
"What!? You dare—"
"N-No! Garon, have you lost your mind!? What're you saying!!!"
A spectacle unfolded.
Noble daughters screaming at each other, slapping faces, yanking hair—descending into brawl.
The cafe entrance turned to pandemonium in seconds.
"What's all the noise outside?"
"Moira and Rodan are beating each other up?"
"...Let's go!"
Pedestrians and cafe patrons poured out, glued to the rare sight.
The Dark Elf had already been erased from memory.
Shrouded once more in perception magic, the Dark Elf slipped through the crowd into the cafe.
A cup sat abandoned on the counter—staff and patrons all out gawking.
She placed a gold coin and picked it up.
"Mmm~"
Settling by the window, the Dark Elf sipped and hummed contentedly.
"Not bad? Honestly, pretty good. What kind of tea is this? Black, bitter, but with a unique flavor."
Ha.
Duran let out a dry laugh at Pamon's brazen reply.
To the book, his master's state was profoundly abnormal.
The Pamon he knew would've been deeply disappointed and annoyed by that scene.
And those rude, vulgar humans would've paid dearly.
A price far beyond brawling in the street, losing friendships, honor, and dignity.
Yet now, she beamed with simple joy, savoring human haunts and culture.
"Yeah? Hope tomorrow comes soon~ My disciple's probably waiting for it too, just like me?"
Fate 5: Witch of the Western Forest
Deactivated.