Chapter 308: The Tin Knight and The Invitation of Memories (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 308: The Tin Knight and The Invitation of Memories (8)
To learn something from someone is not merely to acquire knowledge and skills.
It means to inherit their way of thinking, the experiences and lessons they accumulated while mastering that skill.
The Witch of the East, who taught Dorothea necromancy, always emphasized the importance of a price. Dorothea knew this stemmed from a hatred and contempt for selfless devotion.
The seamstress who taught Dorothea her craft was no different.
People often said the seamstress was obsessed with vanity, for she refused to compromise on the beauty she pursued, even if it meant ignoring the world’s gaze.
“What you can’t see in a piece of clothing is far more important than what you can. If it’s not finished properly, it will chafe the skin. If it’s not designed with the body’s shape in mind, it will restrict blood flow and strain the body.”
But when Dorothea actually began learning from her, the seamstress’s greatest emphasis was not on how to design beautiful clothes or adorn them with flashy decorations, but on how to create garments that were both safe and comfortable.
Beauty was important, of course, but it was secondary to safety.
When Dorothea asked why, the seamstress would avoid the question. But after the lesson was repeated several times, she eventually offered the reason without being asked.
“My family wasn't very well-off. Our clothes were always shabby, little more than piles of cloth draped over our bodies. My mother was decent at other chores like cooking and cleaning, but she was strangely clumsy when it came to sewing. The clothes she made were a mess, and we were subtly mocked for it.”
“Then one day, my father bought a new dress from the market and gave it to my mother as a gift. To be honest, it wasn't a fine piece of clothing. Maybe half a step up from the shabby rags we usually wore? Still, my mother was truly delighted.”
“But you see, the dress my father bought had a small wooden splinter embedded in it. My mother was pricked while wearing it. It wasn't a serious wound—at most, a single drop of blood welled up. That was all.”
“Looking back, that was the problem. If it had been a larger wound, she would have gone to the village’s only herbalist or sought a doctor in the city. But because it was such a trivial, tiny scratch, my mother didn't even treat it properly. She just left it, assuming it would heal on its own.”
“By the time the tiny wound began to fester and her body burned like a furnace, it was already too late. It was so senseless that I couldn't even cry properly.”
“Of course, it might not have been the fault of whoever made or sold that dress. Maybe my mother was just unlucky. But I can't stand the thought of someone getting hurt or sick because of my clothes. I’m allowed to be that stubborn in my own life, aren’t I?”
Dorothea opened her eyes, which she had kept gently closed.
Inside the cold underground prison cell, the seamstress lay unconscious. She was so different from her usual vibrant and confident self that she was almost unrecognizable.
Her hair was a mess, her clothes were in tatters, and her skin was covered in bruises.
Her fingers, in particular—the very fingers that had created countless garments—were all bent in different directions, as if someone had painstakingly broken them one by one.
The people on the streets were talking.
The lord of Glückstadt is merciful, they said, for he had bestowed the ‘mercy’ of not killing the foolish seamstress who had injured his daughter.
Therefore, this too must fall within the bounds of mercy.
Left with ruined hands, the seamstress would no longer be able to make clothes. She might end up on the streets, starving to death, but such things were of no concern to those in high places.
And likewise, Dorothea couldn’t care less about the concerns of those in high places.
Clatter. Dorothea scattered a handful of bone fragments onto the floor.
The lingering spirits, bound to the prison like ghosts, clung to the bodies formed from the fragments of the dead and Dorothea’s mana.
Dorothea spoke to them.
“Do not leave the lord’s mansion. Do not touch anyone unless they strike first. And even if they strike first, do not kill them. If you understand, go.”
The rational Dorothea she usually was might have regretted this, but the sight of the seamstress’s wretched state had loosened a screw in her head, and she did not stop.
She infused a few more spirits with her mana directly, strengthening their presence until even ordinary people could see them, and gave them a command.
“From now on, wander the lord’s mansion and shout what I told you. Make sure everyone can hear.”
The materialized spirits, wraiths, nodded and passed through the walls, scattering in all directions.
In the aftermath, Glückstadt was thrown into an uproar.
“U-undead! The undead have appeared!”
“What? Where—where did they come from!?”
“It’s a necromancer’s attack! Protect the lord!”
The soldiers of Glückstadt fought as best they could, but the guard was so lacking in discipline that they couldn’t even properly perform their public safety duties. Their limits were clear.
They managed to strike down a few undead, but that was all.
They failed to form an organized defensive line and hold their ground, nor did they attempt to find and eliminate the source of the summoned undead.
Dorothea’s mana, which summoned the undead, surged endlessly. Even when an undead was struck down, it would immediately regenerate its body with the black mana and rise again.
The lord’s mansion was soon left in shambles. The lord and his family were not physically harmed, but they were forced to tremble in fear, surrounded by the undead.
The wraiths shouted at the terrified family.
《Wicked lord! Evil lord! The innocent people of your domain suffer, yet you indulge in sloth, leaving them to their fate!》
《Because of your wretched mismanagement of this domain, the great Witch had an unpleasant experience! This is but a warning. If this happens again, you will not even find peace in your graves!》
The lord bowed his head again and again, begging the witch for forgiveness, and then the horde of undead and wraiths vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.
And the next day.
The lord issued a pardon, releasing all the prisoners from the jail. At the same time, he began to stabilize the city’s security by replacing the guards on a massive scale.
The same guards who had once turned a blind eye to fights and beatings among the citizens now began to actively intervene in incidents.
The seamstress regained consciousness in prison. Her hands, which should have been agonizing, were now bearably sore. That was the first surprise. The second was when the soldiers, who had looked ready to devour her just yesterday, released her with dazed expressions.
Bewildered by these two question marks in such a short time, the seamstress returned to her shop. There to greet her was a small witch, sighing heavily and clutching her head.
“What are you doing?”
“…A bit of self-loathing, I guess. It’s just one of those things. Anyway, hurry up and come inside.”
Dorothea used a clean cloth and splints to set the seamstress’s hands and fingers, then let a suspicious-looking liquid soak into the bandages.
After that, a soup full of medicinal herbs awaited the seamstress, and soon after, a servant from the lord’s family arrived, saying they wished to continue doing business with her.
At this point, the seamstress couldn’t help but start putting the pieces together.
“That commotion at the lord’s mansion… was that your doing?”
Dorothea did not deny it.
Instead, she simply asked a question in return.
“So, did you really make a mistake?”
The seamstress scoffed.
“I might accept it if they said there was a problem with the design, but I would never make a mistake like that. The servant who took the dress must have made a mistake along the way and pinned the blame on me.”
“…I see.”
Dorothea nodded, her face slightly shadowed.
The seamstress was puzzled, but knowing Dorothea wasn't the type to speak easily at times like this, she simply shrugged instead of prying.
“Anyway, with my hands like this, I can’t teach sewing. Want to come back later? More importantly, will these even heal? Thankfully, they don’t hurt that much.”
“You should be able to move your thumb a little by tonight. You’ll be able to hold a spoon, at least. I’ve prepared a few days’ worth of soup with ingredients that won’t spoil easily, so just keep eating that for a while.”
“My, what a good little nurse you are.”
“And I’m done with the sewing lessons. I don’t think I’ll be able to come to this city for a while, so I’ll just finish up by studying on my own.”
“I see.”
And that was that.
The seamstress was an adult, a person who knew all too well that some farewells come suddenly.
She didn’t try to hold Dorothea back or weigh her down.
Instead, she simply said to the departing Dorothea:
“Thank you, little miss. Come back when you’re an adult. I’ll make you an outfit fit for a fine lady.”
Dorothea nodded and left the tailor shop.
After that, Dorothea went straight to find Tip.
“Amazing, Dorothy! The city was such a mess, and you fixed it in an instant! I thought the lord was a really amazing and powerful person, but he’s nothing compared to you!”
Tip’s eyes sparkled like stars.
Even though Dorothea hadn’t said a single word about the incident, Tip seemed to have already concluded that she was the one behind it all.
Dorothea looked at him and asked with a deadpan face.
“Don’t you have something to tell me?”
For a fleeting moment.
For a moment so brief it would have been missed by anyone not watching closely, Tip’s face hardened.
“Something to tell you? Oh, if you mean about what happened, I just guessed because you were so perfectly prepared to nurse the seamstress. Was I wrong?”
But it was only for an instant.
Tip quickly replied with a perfectly innocent attitude, as if he knew nothing.
“Yes.”
Dorothea closed her eyes.
The spirits scattered throughout the city were far more useful informants than an ordinary person could imagine.
Especially in an environment like Glückstadt, where people died so frequently within the city itself.
Dorothea had learned the truth.
She learned that Tip, who always wore an innocent face in front of her, had actually begun to form a respectable power base in this city.
She learned that he had skillfully used the ‘fear’ Dorothea had wielded to protect him, packaging it as his own power to intimidate and subjugate others.
Once a hierarchy is established, it is not easily overturned.
Whether Dorothea was there or not, whether she helped him or not, the boy before her—or perhaps girl—had the talent to snowball the power he had acquired.
And among the servants working in the lord’s mansion, there were those who had been subjugated by that intangible fear.
Of course, this was all just speculation and circumstantial evidence.
There was no clear proof that Tip had framed the seamstress.
However, it was also a fact that Tip had kept the power he had obtained a secret.
Tip had kicked away the final chance Dorothea had offered him, and Dorothea reverted from a girl who wanted a friend to an apprentice witch.
“Well then, I’m leaving now.”
“Huh?”
“I told you before, didn’t I? That it would be hard for me to come here anymore.”
Tip’s eyes trembled.
“B-but you haven’t finished learning to sew, have you?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I’ve finished or not. My teacher said this was the last time.”
“Then, I’ll—I’ll come visit you! Just tell me where—”
“Tip.”
Dorothea declared, as if shaking him off.
“Stop depending on me so much.”
“……”
Tip gaped, looking shocked.
Feeling a pang of pity at the sight, but with an even greater sense of anger and disappointment, Dorothea turned her back.
And just like that, a friendship that might have grown strong was severed and split in two.
*
[The ‘Tin Knight’ seriously asks Dorothea if she was trying to mass-produce yandere-esque tags like #Obsession, #Pining, and #Regret!]
“What the hell are you talking about!?”