Chapter 26
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Witch's Sacrament
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#
Lord Matthias had arranged a modest drinking party. Kirr Castle was not wealthy enough to throw a feast for a sudden guest. The best they could do was light several candles in the castle's cramped dining hall and share some drinks.
Ulrich, using the alias Armin, sat beside the lord, drinking the wine he was poured. A smile played on his lips as he engaged in conversation, his voice booming.
He looked like a magnanimous young man in his early twenties. As the promising youth responded with praise, the lord, in high spirits, drank twice as much as Ulrich.
Roberta and Fritz observed Ulrich's performance with interest. His act remained flawless deep into the night, making them wonder if this was perhaps his true personality. It was that different from the restrained life he had shown in Dithmarschen.
“…”
At the same time, Roberta stole glances at Oksana. The lord's wife and a mage bearing the name of one of the Five Sages, Oksana Narces, was also part of the conversation.
She would chime in here and there between the two men's talk, but she also fidgeted, occasionally looking out the window and toward the door. She was anxious, knowing the party was scheduled to leave in the morning.
But Matthias, oblivious to her state of mind, kept her by his side, continuing his conversation with Ulrich.
“Lord Matthias, have you no children yet?”
Ulrich asked after the lord’s face had turned beet red.
“Hmm… Did the young master not tell you?”
“Ah, was that an inappropriate question?”
Setting down his cup, Matthias let out a sigh.
“Actually, I have a single daughter. She is just not present here.”
“I see, she must be staying elsewhere.”
“No. I wish that were the case. Shamefully, she caused trouble and left home. We doted on our only daughter, and now she doesn’t know her place.”
His eyes glazed over from the alcohol, Matthias began to ramble. He spoke of how his only daughter, Marika, had harmed the servant who was nursing her, insulted her stepmother Oksana, and even started a scandalous affair with a priest, causing all sorts of trouble.
“She wasn’t always like that. But after her mother died and I brought Oksana in, she grew jealous. I scolded her harshly each time, but soon it became more than I could handle…”
“That must have been very difficult for you.”
“Well… I could bear it. She is my daughter, after all. But it seems she could not, and she ran off with a servant while I was away.”
Matthias added that he had no desire to chase after her and had given up. It had been ten days since Marika left. When asked if he was worried, the lord shook his head.
“She’s frail. How far can she get with only a few servants? She’ll be back soon enough when her pockets are empty.”
Roberta narrowed her eyes as she listened to the conversation.
‘Slander,’ she thought. ‘He’s been completely fooled by the witch.’
If what the lord said was true, if Marika really had such a difficult personality, would Oksana have needed to intervene? If left alone, wouldn’t Marika ruin her own reputation?
Oksana and Matthias had no children yet, but there was plenty of time. Both were young and could expect a child at any time.
Even if they had a child next year, it would take twenty years for them to come of age. Wasn't that more than enough time to push Marika aside, even if she was the only daughter of his deceased wife?
“Even if she comes back begging for forgiveness now, I have no intention of accepting it. I’ve overlooked everything she’s done until now, and in the end, she spat in her own father’s face.”
Bang. He slammed his cup on the table. His face, already red from drink, flushed a deeper, angrier shade, looking as if it might burst.
“But she is still your daughter.”
Ulrich said softly, leaning forward.
“You may be angry now, but when you see her again, wouldn't it be better to talk things over calmly? From what I hear, she hasn’t even had her coming-of-age ceremony. At that age, emotions are not easily controlled.”
At those words, the lord let out a long sigh and hung his head low. Ulrich gestured to a servant standing by the wall. The servant helped the lord up and led him out of the room.
Now, aside from the servants, only four people remained at the table. Among them, Oksana rose, using the excuse that she would follow her husband.
#
Clouds gathered in the night sky.
The moon was already less than half visible, and when the clouds covered it, a complete darkness fell upon the land. Not a single breeze blew, and the silence was so profound it seemed to have swallowed all sound.
Marika was in the midst of it. Alone in the stables. The girl, in the form of a young horse, was kept far from the others. Fritz had explained that the young horse was sensitive and would cause a commotion if mixed with the others.
Thus, a stable that had been empty for some time within the small castle became her shelter for the night. It was a place no one visited, except for the occasional servant coming to clean.
But now, at this late hour, there were footsteps.
“…”
Marika’s ears twitched, and she turned her head toward the sound. Someone was approaching, but the world was too dark to see.
A little closer, right in front of her, just a few steps away, and she might have been able to tell, but a gentle breeze blew, tickling her nose. Then, a wave of drowsiness washed over her, and her eyes closed.
Thud. A person approached the collapsed Marika.
As the person walked into the stable, they rummaged inside their clothes. Just then, the clouds that had been obscuring the moonlight drifted away, driving back the darkness from the land. A glass bottle in her hand glinted.
She checked the contents of the bottle and pulled out the stopper. A sinister smile formed on her lips. Her gaze fell upon the unconscious Marika.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
But just as she stepped inside the stable, a voice cut through the air. Startled, she looked to the side and saw two people hiding in the shadow of the wall.
“Lady Oksana, please explain yourself.”
Whoosh. A fire erupted.
Roberta manipulated the flow of mana to ignite a torch. The flame revealed Fritz standing beside her, and it also illuminated Oksana Narces, who had trespassed into the stable.
Blinking in the sudden light, Oksana shielded her face with her hands before composing her shocked expression and answering.
“…I came to check on her because I was worried.”
Her voice trembled violently.
“You said she was a sensitive horse. I thought she might get scared being alone… I came to bring her something.”
“You know that’s a pointless excuse, don’t you?”
Roberta let out a snort of derision.
“We know that child is Marika. We also know you did this to her, and we know that what you’re holding is poison. Don’t waste our time.”
Oksana remained silent.
“We simply decided to meet with you and the lord first to avoid any misunderstanding. The chances were slim, but it was possible the lord was in on it with you.”
She opened her palm, revealing the Priest’s seal. In the faint moonlight, the crest of Ganymea, glowing with an intense blue light, made Oksana’s eyes widen.
She had been certain she hadn't been discovered, but she had been deceived. She thought this was her last chance, but it had been a trap. She cursed herself for acting so foolishly, driven by impatience to do something she normally wouldn't have.
“Now that we’ve confirmed you are the only culprit, there’s no need to hide anything.”
Then came the sound of other footsteps.
There were two of them. It was Ulrich and Matthias. They walked the same path Oksana had taken and stood behind her. They had been following her. Matthias’s expression was harder and more serious than ever.
The effects of the alcohol seemed to have worn off. Though he still smelled of wine, his face had returned to its usual color. He hesitated for a moment, looking at her, then opened his mouth.
“Oksana…”
His voice trailed off. But no one present was mistaken about what he meant to say. Was it true? Was the young horse lying before them his only daughter, and had she done this to her? That was the question.
Naturally, Oksana planned to scream that it wasn't true. What would admitting it change? Even if the horse’s identity was revealed, if she denied it, they had nothing but circumstantial evidence. She had to escape the immediate crisis, even if she couldn't reverse the outcome.
But she couldn’t. She met Matthias’s gaze and read the conviction in his face.
‘How?’
Oksana couldn’t understand.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
Even if there was circumstantial evidence, wasn't it just the claims of people they had known for a single day? No matter that it was the word of an ordained priest, the time Oksana and Matthias had spent together was long. Hadn't they whispered words of love just that morning? Why had his heart turned so quickly? What could they possibly have said?
It was more than just Priestess Roberta or the fourth son of Count Meyer. That left only one reason. The young man standing next to Lord Matthias, the adopted son from Dithmarschen named Armin, had to be the cause.
“I have shown you a shameful sight, Lord Ulrich.”
Matthias’s weary voice revealed the answer.
Oksana’s eyes shot wide open as she looked at Armin, no, Ulrich. Him? An old man who had lived for over three hundred years, the one to whom Count Meyer had so eagerly sent his most cherished son as a page?
Reason screamed that it was a lie. How could a human, unless mixed with the blood of some peculiar race, live for centuries with such a youthful appearance? Even she, a mage proficient enough to bear the name Narces, could not do such a thing.
Her eyes, filled with confusion, darted about wildly.
“Oksana, you who bear the name of Narces.”
“…”
“This is entirely your doing.”
Ulrich said, his gaze fixed calmly on Oksana.
“I should have finished it cleanly.”
“Oksana…”
The lord called her name. Her muttered words had turned his conviction into certainty, and his voice was laced with a mixture of emotions, including pity.
Oksana scowled at the sound of it. If he had properly mediated the relationship between her and Marika in the first place, would she have resorted to such extreme measures? She felt more resentment than guilt.
“Yes. I did it. While you were dithering, I made a decision. You were torn between your inferior firstborn and the child yet to be born, weren't you?”
“Didn’t I tell you I would handle that myself?”
“And was it handled properly?”
She scoffed.
“I simply did for you what you could not. To prevent problems later on.”
“...I never knew you were this kind of person.”
Roberta took a step forward, cutting off their conversation.
“That’s enough talk. Change Marika back at once.”
“Why should I? Will that undo what’s been done?”
Shing. Roberta’s sword slid from its sheath. As she softly recited a prayer, the blade became enveloped in a faint light.
Oksana had seen few who could hone their mana so sharply, and a tense expression crossed her face.
“A warrior suits you better than a priest.”
She sneered to hide her tension. Roberta simply stared at the witch with a cold expression.
“You think you can beat me?”
“…”
“No, do you really think she’ll turn back if you kill me? Do you think this is simple magic? That the truth will be revealed if you kill the witch, just like in a fairy tale?”
A wind began to blow outside the stable. The clouds, which had been scattered in pieces, allowing glimpses of the moonlight, were now swept together by the wind.
“This is a perfectly crafted combination. It’s not some crude twisting and suppressing of mana flow. Even if I die, even if the connection to me is severed, she won’t change back. I fixed it that way. Only I can undo it.”
She smiled, one corner of her mouth twisting upward.
“Why don’t you try begging? Who knows? I might just change my mind.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, witch!”
Roberta shot forward.
“Hmph!”
At the same time, Oksana thrust out her right hand. Thunder cracked. A bolt of lightning struck down, shattering the stable roof and aiming for the crown of the priestess who was swinging a bright blue blade at her.
In an instant, light exploded in all directions, bleaching the world white. But Oksana’s vision remained clear as she snapped her head back. By a hair's breadth, the blade of honed mana sliced through empty air.
“...You monstrous bitch.”
Oksana cursed, her back hitting the wall.
Roberta stood a few steps away, glaring at the witch. Her body, struck by lightning, steamed with a white vapor, and her skin was red, as if she had suffered internal burns.
‘Is she hiding her age, like the Duke?’
Oksana ground her teeth as she watched Roberta take a deep breath. She had thought the mana-honed blade was unusual, but to withstand a blow like that…
‘I can ignore Matthias and Fritz, but adding the Duke to the mix might be dangerous. The Pantheon may have declined, but it's still the Pantheon.’
The witch changed her form.
She became a crow, no more than three hands tall, and flapped her wings with all her might. The transformation was so fast that Roberta couldn't stop the spell. The crow dodged the blade once more, escaped the stable, and soared into the sky.
—You will not catch me.
Oksana’s mocking laughter echoed in the minds of the humans left on the ground.
But in that moment, Ulrich reached out his hand.
The flapping stopped. The crow’s body stiffened in mid-air as if seized by a fit, and it began to fall helplessly. Finally, it hit the ground with a sickening thud.
The crow trembled. The transformation from human to crow had been instantaneous, but the process of returning to human form was long. Its body spread like spilled water on the ground, black feathers turning to pale skin, until it became the witch Oksana once more.
She let out a silent scream from the pain of the fall, her face a mask of horror.
‘My mana… it won’t move.’
Why?
The mana she had commanded at will her entire life no longer obeyed her. Only the faintest trickle responded to her call, a flow so weak it couldn't even produce a flicker of light.
It felt like something was lost. Like one of her senses had vanished. She could barely feel the flow of mana she had known her whole life. She had never experienced anything like this.
But she knew. Her intuition told her she had lost the very source of her ability to wield mana.
The substance the gods had scattered for the prosperity of all things when they built their palaces in the sky would no longer follow her. The reason was that her Sacrament had been revoked.
“Foolish thing.”
She understood what it meant to be rejected by the heavens in a world created by the gods. As the weight of that realization crushed her, she looked up at a single human, her eyes filled with a loneliness and fear she had never known.