Witch of the Ruins (1)
Crackle, crackle.
The sound of the flames devouring everything tickled my ears. Smoke seeped deep into my lungs, but no cough came.
If anything, it felt refreshing. It was the smell of the fakes being purified.
I didn't look back.
At the end of the path I'd walked lay this world's protagonist, his body cooling to ice.
"...Ha."
Even thinking about it again brought a hollow laugh.
Worrying about his childhood friend's safety right up to the moment his heart was pierced.
"Tch."
The only thing that mattered was that he was dead.
I raised my hand, and shadows coiled around my fingers—far more fluid than before. Whether it was from slaying the protagonist or the original Ailin's soul finally fading away, mana now flowed smoothly through my body without a hitch.
"Aaagh! It's hot! So hot!"
"Mom! Mooom—!"
The screams around me snapped me out of my reverie.
The fire I'd set had swallowed half the village, and the surviving NPCs were scrambling in panic, fleeing the blaze.
"Help us! Please, anyone!"
A woman burst from a burning house and grabbed my ankle. Half her face was a grotesque ruin of burns, but she still looked up at me, pleading.
"Ailin! Thank the gods you're safe... Please, my child's still in there...!"
She recognized me.
Even in this chaos, with her own life hanging by a thread, she was fretting over another NPC.
"Yeah? Lucky you."
"Huh...?"
"You won't be lonely. You can join the others."
The shadows wrapped around her throat. Her eyes bulged wide in utter incomprehension. No resentment, no hatred—just pure confusion.
"Go say hi to the NPCs who went ahead."
Crack. A sickening snap, and her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Her grip slackened, her body sliding limply to the ground. I indifferently pulled my foot free.
Mana trickled in, ever so slightly. Not much, but every little bit adds up.
"Time to wrap things up."
No point leaving loose ends.
I strolled through the burning village. Mana shielded my skin from the flames. The sweltering heat made my head fuzzy in a pleasant way.
Step. One.
Step, step. Two.
Step, step, step. Three.
Four, five, six, seven...
I granted mercy to each NPC writhing in agony amid the inferno—one by one. Far better to die clean by my hand than to roast slowly.
"Gah...!"
I drove shadows into the back of a fleeing man.
"Kyaaah!"
I slit the throat of a girl huddled trembling in a corner.
Ten, fifteen, twenty...
Before long, the village clamor began to fade.
I reached the central square.
Some I'd killed myself; others had burned. I perched on a lone chair in the middle—half-charred, but good enough to sit on. Legs crossed, chin propped, I savored the hellscape unfolding before me.
Not a bad view.
With the fakes gone, only the real remained. This, surely, was the most beautiful sight in this game world.
Plip, plip. Something cold struck my cheek. I looked up. Raindrops fell from the soot-blackened night sky.
"Rain...?"
Perfect timing. The moment everything ended, down it came.
Sizzle. The roaring flames shrank bit by bit. The downpour only grew heavier.
No need to dodge it.
My hair plastered to my cheeks, my bloodstained dress grew heavy and sodden, but I didn't care. The rainwater washed the blood away—the traces of the NPCs on my skin fading clean.
"Cold."
It wasn't. Just a habit, words slipping out.
My mind had never been clearer.
I sat there blankly, watching the fires gutter out and the ground turn to mud.
Dawn broke. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained shrouded in thick clouds.
I rose and stretched. Crack. A satisfying ripple of relief spread from my spine through my limbs.
"Nngh... I'm starving."
Even in a game, they had to simulate this? Kinda unfair.
I had to eat. Silently, I rummaged through the village.
Few buildings stood intact. Most had collapsed in flames, leaving only charred skeletons. The bakery, the general store, the granary—all reduced to ash. Nothing edible left.
Did I overdo the fire?
A twinge of regret. Should've stockpiled food first.
I'd been too busy fleeing the knight captain then, and after... well, too late. I consoled myself with that.
Then came the miracle.
A few strips of unburnt jerky. Dusty with dirt and ash, but I brushed it off and shoved it in my mouth.
Tasteless. I grumbled but forced it down. Couldn't die here.
Hunger eased, and practical problems surfaced one by one.
What now?
All NPCs dead. Village empty save for me.
No point staying. No more mana fodder, no food.
Had to leave.
But where to?
I didn't even know where this was. No map or marker.
Beyond lay endless dense forest. No clue what waited, or the nearest city.
Charge in blind? Perfect way to get lost and starve. I swallowed a curse, ruffling my hair.
Couldn't starve here. Couldn't wander aimlessly either.
One option left.
"...Wait."
The knights' contact severed. To the lord—or higher-ups—this was an emergency.
They wouldn't sit idle. Investigators, a subjugation squad—someone would come to this ruin.
When they did, I'd move.
Follow their lead, snatch a map. Mood lifted a bit at the thought.
Time crawled.
A day passed, then two. Lucky me—plenty of water. Though hunger gnawed deep.
I claimed a spot on a massive rock at the village entrance. The stench of rotting corpses reeked inside. Rain-soaked bodies decayed faster than expected.
I waved away buzzing flies. Unknown birds circled overhead, eyeing me warily as they pecked at flesh.
Thought to shoo them at first, but too much hassle. Let 'em be.
"Bored."
I sprawled on the rock, staring at the sky, muttering.
Boredom was the real enemy. They say solitude drives you mad.
Spoke from experience now.
Wish a monster would show. Knights must've cleared the area on arrival—no sign of any.
Should've spared the protagonist.
Would've made a fine companion. Curious what his hate-filled glares would've looked like.
Regret crept in. In hindsight, too brazen.
Next time, plan smarter. Feedback noted, thoughts dismissed.
I drew my dagger.
New hobby. Whittle wood to kill time.
Scrape, scrape.
Shaved a decent log into a slender rod. Smoothed the surface, burned impurities with mana.
Checked it over. Prime work this time.
Best I could do with my skill.
I spread my slim legs wide, gripping the wooden rod.
The ruins filled with the girl's raw, explicit moans.