The Witch of Katon
The woman who appeared after drawing aside the beaded curtain was dressed quite provocatively.
A jet-black tube-top dress that fell to her knees clung seductively to a figure that would have been a G-cup by Korean standards—voluptuous breasts, a slender waist, and a body developed with lush sensuality.
A sheer mesh shawl that barely covered her shoulders, black silk gloves rising past the elbows, blood-red eyes set in a pale face, smoky makeup, and lips painted with black rouge.
To finish it off, a round witch’s hat that rose to a moderately pointed tip, and black high heels.
Is she really a witch?
It was a guess born of preconception, yet considering the common ground between Earth and this world, it was hardly baseless.
While Hwanin was thinking that, the woman—who carried a faint air of decadence—smiled with a languid voice and offered a greeting.
“I came out drawn by Baby Flower Pig’s voice, and look, you’ve brought a guest.”
“Haha… It’s been a while, Big Sis.”
“Hmm. I thought you’d come just to say hello after so long, but the way you talk, it sounds like you wouldn’t have shown up at all without a customer in tow.”
“Of course not. I’m a busy man in my own right, you know.”
At Yurpa’s teasing rebuke, Kantwi laughed awkwardly and waved a hand. Yurpa rested a hand on one side of the display counter and cast him a languid glance.
“Right~ You must be busy. It’s the preparation period for the Parhist Grand Festival, so plenty of travelers will be coming and going to fill that boyish sense of adventure of yours.”
“Ahem. Anyway! How long are you going to keep calling me Baby Flower Pig? I’m getting older, you know.”
“If I don’t call a Baby Flower Pig a Baby Flower Pig, who else am I supposed to call a flower pig?”
At Yurpa’s joke, Sanri, who had been minding the counter, snickered, while Kantwi gave a light shake of his slightly flushed head.
Hwanin looked Yurpa over at a level that wouldn’t be rude and felt a touch of puzzlement.
He had heard Kantwi was nearing forty this year. For him to call her “Big Sis”… she had to be well over fifty at least. Yet outwardly she looked no older than her mid-to-late twenties.
The women of this world are hard to age.
Even after living the same forty years, the women here seemed to age more slowly.
Her ears weren’t pointed, so she wasn’t a Floe. What long-lived race could she be? Hwanin briefly wondered, then examined the aura wrapping around Yurpa.
A dense, bouncing equalizer-like aura, extremely thick.
Definitely a 6th-class aura. The type is enchantment, as expected.
The only denser concentration he had seen was from Wayford’s senior martial arts instructor, Hiern=Zod, and even the Inton-tribe enchanter he had met at the Wayford Arcane Arts Association had been thinner than this.
“Compared to Big Sis’s age I’m still a child, but I do have a social standing of my own…”
“You. Didn’t I tell you not to talk about my age?”
Yurpa flicked a finger lightly. With a ting like a coin, a tiny rainbow-colored shooting star arced through the air and tapped Kantwi’s forehead.
“Ugh—fine. I won’t call you Baby Flower Pig anymore if that’s what you want.”
“Ah, good. See you at the next Chamber of Commerce meeting. Just so you know, your wallet will be pretty light by then.”
“Wait. No, look—”
“Enough.”
Chuckling, Yurpa waved a hand lightly, and her gaze turned toward Hwanin. A faint smile rose on those black lips; Hwanin returned an identical one.
“So, who’s the bold little one who spoke so boldly?”
“Just an ordinary traveler. More than that—while I understand the feeling of being thoroughly sick of dealing with problem customers, is it really necessary to treat even ordinary patrons like malicious consumers?”
“If you don’t like it, don’t buy. You already heard our shop’s rules from Baby Flower Pig over there and our little kitten.”
The words carried the clear meaning of “if it bothers you, get lost,” yet the witch-like woman’s eyes and lips held a smile that said she was enjoying herself.
“Wasn’t the rule that anyone who comes to purchase accompanied by a villager is treated as a customer? Surely a professional of your caliber wouldn’t say one thing and mean another.”
“Puhuhu. You’re really cheeky. Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Hwanin regarded Yurpa with calm eyes. Afraid? Of what, exactly?
“Hmm? Little one… you’ve got an interesting constitution.”
“Did you do something?”
“I sprinkled a little phase force to make you flinch, but you’re completely fine. I’ve heard of constitutions that shed phase force, but this is the first time I’ve seen one in person. Ah… my curiosity is soaring. Won’t you come inside for a bit and chat before you go?”
Her languid voice, every gesture and motion, dripped with sultry allure.
No hostility—only curiosity and interest stood out. And, layered beneath, a faint sexual desire as well.
Reading her intent, Hwanin glanced at the spiritual energy in her lower abdomen and nodded.
“Very well.”
“You can’t. Lord Hwanin, Big Sis Yurpa is of the Heupjeong race. If you go in there, she’ll drain your essence.”
At Kantwi’s serious tone Hwanin looked back at him, while Yurpa giggled.
“If you put it that way, I sound like some monster who seduces men just to suck out their essence.”
“Leaving a man’s legs trembling for days is pretty much the same thing… Lord Hwanin is my guest, so stop swallowing your drool.”
“Hmm. You’ve heard everything, so shall we leave the choice to the little one? What do you think?”
Yurpa’s and Kantwi’s gazes—and Sanri’s as well—fixed on him.
Without needing to think, Hwanin nodded.
“If you promise to answer a few questions, I’ll accept the invitation. And my name is Hwanin.”
“Huhu. Decision made? Then Baby Flower Pig can head on home, and the little one can follow me.”
“Haa…”
A my-pace personality that suited the preconceptions perfectly.
Hwanin gave a slight bow of the head to the worried Kantwi, signaling that it was fine, then followed Yurpa into the shop.
“Hmm-hmm~.”
Humming a little tune, Yurpa walked with light steps, her springy-looking hips swaying endlessly as if to seduce any man watching.
It didn’t look intentional. The way her pelvis and hip joints moved, plus the high heels she wore, simply made her gait that way.
“In here.”
Following the curves of her hips that flashed into view now and then, Hwanin stepped into the room she entered—and was more than a little surprised.
It looks like a hospital research lab.
Contrary to expectations of a space expanded by subspace or a gloomy wizard’s or witch’s room cluttered with every sort of experimental specimen and book, the roughly forty-pyeong chamber was as neat as a university laboratory or hospital research room.
Walls and ceiling finished in bright gray marble, the floor a tone darker gray stonework.
Along one wall several bookshelves stood in a row, holding hundreds of volumes, while white tables of various sizes that filled half the room held cylinders, flasks, test-tube racks, ring stands, burners, tripods, clamps, and assorted crucibles and bowls—all neatly arranged and filled with various samples.
“Have a seat wherever you like.”
Saying so, Yurpa hung her witch’s hat and shawl on a wall hook, then approached a gothic-style cabinet standing against one wall and took out teacups and a teapot.
Hwanin looked at the two purple sofas and table she indicated, but instead of sitting he surveyed the surroundings filled with the distinctive scent of a research lab.
This is… powder made by grinding phase stones?
Without touching them, he examined the seven colors of powder—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet—inside the small test tubes, when Yurpa’s giggling voice reached him.
“Curious?”
When he turned that way, Yurpa was approaching with a tray of tea and cups, her hair—as jet-black and abundant as her dress—cascading naturally.
Her eyes held the full emotion of looking at a cute child, but Hwanin’s gaze was drawn more to the tray floating lightly at her fingertips.
“I was simply surprised to see a familiar scene in an unexpected place.”
“Hmm~? An enchanter’s workshop isn’t something you see every day.”
As he sat on the sofa, Yurpa sat as well and set the cups on the small tea table; with a mere crook of her finger the cups and saucers floated gently into place.
“……”
He had opened his soul vision and watched the entire motion, yet Yurpa’s body simply appeared in a deep green color system—no change whatsoever within that color.
Something like telekinesis? Is that the sort of thing that can’t be learned? he thought, when the floating teapot tilted and poured a reddish liquid from its spout with a soft glug-glug.
Is that a magic tool as well?
It was clearly the teapot she had just taken out of the cabinet. She hadn’t added water in the meantime, yet steaming tea was flowing from the spout.
Yet in his soul vision the tea showed a slightly vivid purple color system—one that affected the body through the mind or hallucinations.
He had learned in Wayford that some things classified as medicinal herbs also carried colored systems. Strongly spicy seasonings, for instance, were red-system.
Even so, it was hard not to feel wary.
As Hwanin stared at the teapot, Yurpa’s voice drifted into his ear.
“But you know… the real meaning behind what the little one said doesn’t feel like he was talking about an arcane workshop. Calling it a familiar scene even though it isn’t a workshop—that’s interesting too, isn’t it?”
As she slid the teacup in front of Hwanin, inquisitiveness began to flow in Yurpa’s eyes.
If she wanted something from him, using that to obtain what she desired would be easy. He tried changing the subject first.
“It’s nothing important. More than that, as promised, I’d like to ask a few questions.”
“Isn’t it important? I don’t think so. I wonder if the little one knows… that in my eyes he looks extremely unique.”
As expected, changing the subject didn’t work.
If an ordinary person blatantly avoided answering, most people would assume the other didn’t want to talk about it and follow the shift in topic—but Yurpa paid no mind.
“I suppose so. I’m a race that belongs neither to the Four Great Races nor the Seven Demi-human Races.”
As he spoke he pushed back the hood of his cloak; Yurpa’s eyes sparkled at the sight of his face.
“My, my. With looks like that you could almost pass for the same race as me.”
“That hasn’t happened yet.”
“Huhu. Of course not. Our race’s distinctive feature is this lip color.”
Saying so, she playfully pursed her black lips as if for a kiss. He had thought it was black lipstick or rouge, but perhaps not?
“In any case, I came from quite far away due to a transfer accident, so I’m somewhat ignorant of this land’s culture. The sense of dissonance you feel is probably because of that.”
“A transfer accident? Could I hear more details?”
“I’ve already answered once, so I’d like to hear an answer myself.”
At Hwanin’s calm reply Yurpa’s eyes widened.
“I’m liking you more and more. Huhu, of course the little one is curious about the constitution, right?”
Saying “have some tea,” Yurpa launched into a short explanation of special constitutions as if she already knew exactly what he wanted to ask.
That occasionally people were born with constitutions closely tied to the flow of phase force.
Such people usually possessed one of two traits: one type unconsciously absorbed too much phase force and died young, while the other…
“Like the little one, a constitution that completely rejects any interference from phase force trying to act upon them.”
“Does that mean I can’t even receive treatment from a holy arts practitioner?”
“Until you can control that constitution yourself, yes. That’s why I want to hear the story. How a transfer accident could happen to someone with a constitution like that.”
At Yurpa’s answer, one unconfirmed hypothesis that had been sleeping in Hwanin’s mind settled into place.
The reason he was unaffected by the labyrinth’s mental invasion—this constitution was highly likely the cause.
“You’re an enchanter, aren’t you, Miss Yurpa? Do you have any expertise in transfer arts as well?”
“Of course. I may not look it, but I even hold an unlicensed 5th-class transfer arcane arts certificate. My goal is to create a transmission magic tool that grafts transfer arts onto magic devices.”
“I’ve heard stories of such magic tools.”
Mainly used by the military or great clans for short-range spatial movement. A concrete example was installing transfer magic tools in the deepest parts of labyrinths adjacent to cities so that soldiers could take turns guarding them and prevent the labyrinths from being destroyed.
He had heard that the deepest part of Wayford’s Labyrinth of No Light was guarded that way as well.
“You seem quite sharp, so you’ll understand if I explain, right? Ordinary transfer arts work by designating an object target and exchanging it with an object at a designated location. The main reasons are the stability of designating spatial transfer coordinates and the decomposition and reassembly of matter during movement…”
Yurpa continued explaining the complex technical principles and structure of transfer arts.
Hwanin did not interrupt, quietly packing everything she said into his mind.
“…That’s why object-designation transfer arts became standardized for their advantages in safety, convenience, and speed. But I don’t think that way.”
“You believe spatial transmission is superior to object transfer.”
The drawback of object-designation transfer was the weight restriction. Spatial transmission, however, sent the entire mass of matter at that point, so she believed the weight restriction disappeared.
As if struck in a blind spot, Yurpa’s eyes widened and she murmured in surprise.
“The little one understood everything I said?”
“Not everything.”
Not everything, but he had grasped a fair amount. On top of that, he could tell Yurpa was struggling from the spatial-coordinate designation stage onward and had no idea of the cause.
And from a scientific perspective, Hwanin had a rough idea of why she was struggling.
“No. From what I can see, the little one saw straight through to the core. Amazing—you’ve never formally studied this field, have you?”
“No.”
“Incredible… truly incredible. Won’t you tell this big sister a little? I’m really curious what opinion you formed from what you understood.”
Hwanin closed his mouth.
He had not the slightest intention of speaking.
A planet was a sphere, and as it rotated the spatial coordinates constantly changed. If he carelessly voiced such a conjecture, he could not guess how far the repercussions would reach.
This world had many intelligent people as well.
Especially those who handled arts at a high level were likely to possess outstanding intelligence that included mathematical ability.
The arts of this world mainly manifested in two types, one of which required complex calculation, memorization, and mathematical skill.
In any case, whether or not the fact that a planet was a sphere and rotated was known here, from Yurpa’s reaction it was clear she did not know.
To him it was trivial, basic knowledge, but in this world it could be world-shaking.
If that knowledge clicked into place and made a major contribution to spatial transmission?
It would very likely become the origin of a singularity in the transfer/transmission arts lineage.
If that happened, attention would focus on him. Either way, it would not benefit him.
Yurpa, who had sensed with uncanny accuracy that he had no intention of speaking, began to coax him gently.
“If your opinion helps my research, I can give you a few things from my magic tool shop as gifts. The expensive ones go for over fifty gold coins, you know? Or I could teach you a few pieces of arts knowledge I know.”
“Monetary conditions don’t appeal to me, but knowledge does. However, my opinion is nothing more than the unprofessional viewpoint of an outsider. It might only invite ridicule, and I have no desire to buy myself embarrassment.”
“Who’s going to ridicule you? Come on~ Hmm? I’ll do everything I can within my limits, okay? Okay-okay?”
A beauty with an air of decadence acting cute in a languid voice would have an outstanding psychological-barrier-breaking effect on men—but that had nothing to do with Hwanin.
“It’s really nothing special, yet you’re pressing so hard that the pressure is making me even less willing to speak.”
Yurpa noticed Hwanin letting out a small sigh and starting to rise, and quickly raised a hand.
“Okay! I won’t ask anymore. Goodness, the little one really has no greed, does he?”
“Please think of it as a desire to maintain a smooth relationship. Even I would find arts knowledge worth hundreds of gold coins hard to pass up.”
“Heh. Not a coward, then?”
“……”
“A man should know how to go for it sometimes. A man who just backs off with his tail between his legs isn’t very attractive~.”
Crossing her legs and smiling provocatively, Yurpa was regarded steadily by Hwanin.
Scrape—
A moment later Hwanin pushed the table aside and strode toward Yurpa, who was sitting on the sofa.
It was only about two steps, but standing before her he placed a hand on the back of the chair she occupied and brought his face close to hers.
“?!”
Gripping her opposite shoulder and planting a knee between her thighs, he pressed his face so close their breaths touched.
Startled, Yurpa leaned back against the chair and sucked in a sharp breath.
Feeling her breasts—large as watermelons—sway once with the motion, he whispered softly into her ear.
“Do you truly think I’m a coward?”
At Hwanin’s quiet question, Yurpa’s pupils trembled.