Chapter 13

As Cheshion walked hand-in-hand with Gremory through the Emerald Forest, Shali stubbornly followed alongside them.

The wolf chief had become obstinate—he was determined to make Cheshion understand the truth about this witch.

‘I’ll drag her to the Purifying Lake and dunk her in. A witch would writhe in agony if submerged there.’

But this witch… was genuinely just sightseeing. Like any human visiting the Emerald Forest for the first time.

“Wow, it’s beautiful…”

When spirit birds or butterflies fluttered by, she even stepped aside to avoid disturbing them. A typical witch would’ve snatched them up for a snack or burned them alive for fun.

She even tread carefully to avoid crushing wildflowers, unlike Cheshion, who trampled over the grass without a care.

…Shali glanced down at his own paws. He’d crushed about ten flowers already. Suddenly self-conscious, he tucked his paws in neatly to avoid stepping on more.

‘Hmph. If she’s a witch, this is all an act. She’s probably playing innocent to deceive the Grand Duke and devour his soul later.’

Then—something caught his eye. A white snake was slithering toward the witch.

White snakes couldn’t tolerate evil presences in the forest. It must have sensed her malice and was preparing to strike.

Hiss—!

The white snake lunged and bit Gremory’s ankle.

Shali watched eagerly. How would the witch react? If she tried to kill the snake, he’d attack or expel her immediately. Or maybe drag her straight to the Purifying Lake.

But the witch just—

“What’s this?”

—looked at the snake dangling from her ankle, then turned to Shali.

“Your snake must be hungry. What does it eat? Blood?”

“……”

“Whatever it is, feed it.”

She carefully peeled the snake off her ankle. Confused by the unexpected reaction, the white snake hastily slithered back to Shali.

Cheshion fussed over her, pulling out a handkerchief.

“Good heavens, Mori! Are you hurt? Its fangs were huge! Shali, is that snake venomous?”

Shake shake.

It is, but it wouldn’t affect her. Because she’s a witch. So for her, it’s as if it’s not venomous at all.

“This is terrible! Mori, sit down for a second.”

Cheshion made Gremory sit while he wrapped her ankle with his handkerchief.

“It tickles.”

“Bear with it.”

Shali hesitated, unsure whether to leave. The two looked like they were just on a date.

Annoyed, he glared at the white snake.

‘Why’d you have to go and make me witness this?’

‘My apologies. I didn’t expect them to act like this.’

The snake coiled up, hissing sheepishly.

Cheshion helped Gremory up.

“Can you walk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s keep sightseeing.”

Then Gremory added—

“That snake was pretty, though.”

Her eyes still sparkled with excitement, regardless of Shali’s thoughts.

Shali rubbed his face with his paws in defeat. No matter how he looked at it, this witch was different. Though her dark magic was palpable, she lacked the malice or bloodlust typical of evil beings.

---

At the heart of the Emerald Forest lay a vast lake, its dark waters mirroring the starry sky above.

Cheshion led Gremory to the shore and asked Shali—

“Shali, can we dip Mori’s ankle in the lake?”

Shake shake.

Shali refused. The moment she touched the water, she’d scream in burning agony.

“I see. The forest’s treasures aren’t so easily shared. I’ll respect your wishes.”

With that, the two left, their sightseeing complete. Shali scratched his head, watching the absurd couple depart.

A witch who feeds on human suffering, and a human in love? How could such a thing even happen? Cheshion Edel… what a tragic life you lead.

---

‘Right. Witches don’t exist.’

Now at ease, Cheshion calmly ate his meal while Gremory chewed on raw meat across from him. The Battlemaster of the Northern Snowfields seemed to enjoy today’s menu, crunching through goat ribs with gusto.

By the time Gremory wiped the blood from her lips, Cheshion brought up business.

“Mori, I have a task for you.”

“What is it?”

She gulped down goat blood as dessert while answering.

“As you know, there’s a convent near the Grand Duke’s residence. The nuns there treated and cared for you when I first brought you back.”

“I remember.”

“The nuns say they’ve been seeing ghostly figures at night—intruders, it seems. Can you handle it? Since it’s a convent, having male knights stationed there would make the nuns uncomfortable.”

“Got it. I’ll do it.”

Gremory felt odd. A convent—a place of purity and abstinence—was sending a witch to commit murder? Well, if the landlord ordered it, she’d comply.

“But why would intruders target the convent? There are far more… edible—er, valuable targets in the mansion.”

“I’m not entirely sure. I have a theory, but it’s unconfirmed.”

“What’s the theory?”

“In our territory, the sick rely more on the nuns’ healing than on regular healers. If the convent is attacked, we’d lose our only means of treating illness or injury.”

“So if someone assaults the convent and then spreads plague in the Grand Duchy, we’d be helpless?”

“Exactly.”

“Then we’ll protect the convent.”

Gremory stood up immediately and stomped off toward the convent. Who dared threaten her nest?

She already knew the location from her walks with Anna.

Upon arrival, the abbess—apparently briefed by Cheshion—bowed to her, followed by a flock of young nuns.

“Welcome. I am Christina, abbess of the Rusnell Convent.”

“Yeah.”

“?”

“Nice to meet you.”

The abbess stiffened at Gremory’s blunt tone.

“…You’re as peculiar as they say.”

Peculiar or not, Gremory scrutinized the abbess while leaning on one leg.

For an abbess, the darkness in her heart was unusually thick and foul—so repulsive that even staring felt uncomfortable.

‘She’s nothing like the nuns I know. How did someone like this become abbess?’

Perhaps disliking Gremory’s sharp gaze, Christina chided her.

“Shouldn’t you use honorifics in this situation, Lady Mori?”

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why should I use honorifics for an abbess who’s neither chaste nor pure, but filthy?”

“…Whatever do you mean, hoho?”

“Just how much money have you embezzled for the nuns to look this wretched? The young ones are all skin and bones, while you’ve got a potbelly. Is that from drinking?”

Christina, who’d provoked the wrong person, stood dumbfounded. When giggles erupted from the young nuns behind her, her face turned beet red.

“All of you, SILENCE!”

“No.”

Gremory had already read the darkness in the abbess’s heart. She hadn’t come to discipline her, but another possibility forced her to expose Christina thoroughly.

Gremory pushed past the nuns and headed straight for the abbess’s room—its location instantly known from the woman’s thoughts.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Your room.”

“Wait! Please, just a moment!”

The plump abbess couldn’t keep up with Gremory’s swift strides. Kicking open the locked door, Gremory found gold bracelets, ruby necklaces, empty liquor bottles, and—most damning—a man’s shirt and underwear strewn across the bed.

“The ‘ghostly intruders’ the nuns saw were likely just the abbess’s lover.”

The abbess fled, her face scarlet. Gremory took a bite of the shame and darkness radiating from her.

Ptooey. Christina’s shame tasted awful.

The young nuns, ignoring the disgraced abbess, crowded around Gremory in awe.

“Wow! Lady Mori, you’re amazing! How did you know?”

“I’m a witch.”

“You acted like you knew everything—are you a seer?”

“I said I’m a witch.”

“Lady Mori has such mysterious powers, like a witch!”

“Thanks to you, we’re rid of that wicked abbess! Thank you, Lady Mori!”

I said I’m a witch!

They weren’t listening at all. The empire’s humans didn’t believe in witches even a hair’s worth.

Still, as their praises poured in, the corner of Gremory’s lips twitched upward. Just a little.