WTBHI 27

Chapter 27

Cheshion’s eyes widened in shock as Anna bounced around frantically.

“That’s right! On top of that, she’s been going around confessing her love to everyone in the Grand Duke’s residence! Isn’t this her way of saying goodbye before leaving?”

“……Where is Mori now?”

“The last time I saw her, she was heading to the convent!”

“Damn it, Mori! What the hell are you thinking?!”

Cheshion rushed to the convent with Anna. The scene there was surreal—Gremory was holding hands with each of the nuns she had grown close to, telling them she liked them one by one.

“Mori!”

Cheshion called out to her urgently. Gremory slowly turned her head to look at him.

“Why are you doing this? Are you really leaving? Packing your things, saying goodbye to everyone—what’s going on?!”

“If I stay here, you’ll all end up resenting me. I don’t want to turn any of you into vengeful spirits.”

“What? Vengeful spirits? Explain properly.”

Her words were so abrupt that Cheshion was left speechless. Iris, who had been listening nearby, shook her head and rubbed her temples.

“I’m being hunted. If those hunters take you hostage and torture you to death, you could become vengeful spirits. That’s why I need to leave before that happens.”

“Wait. Hunters? Who’s after you?”

“The Witch Hunters.”

Cheshion’s brain short-circuited for a second.

“The… Beauty Hunters?”

“No, the Witch Hunters.”

Gremory had condensed the concept of “a group of witches summoned to the human world to grant wishes, who also moonlight as her pursuers” into the simple term “Witch Hunters.” Explaining in detail would’ve been too much of a hassle.

But perhaps she had oversimplified—because Cheshion didn’t seem to grasp it immediately.

“There are still people out there who believe in witches and hunt them? Look, if that’s all, you don’t need to worry. No matter how strong they are, my knights and I will protect you. And you know how royal spies sneak into our estate all the time, right? Even assassins from rival families occasionally show up. We deal with them just fine. A few more hunters won’t scare us.”

“You’re not listening. These are real Witch Hunters. Let me explain—”

“Mori, I told you, didn’t I? We’re family. We’ll stay with you until the end. I didn’t bring you here on a whim. If you try to leave, I’ll cry, scream, and cling to your skirt to stop you.”

“……Even if something unbearable happens because of me?”

“Even if a war breaks out because of you, even if the sky splits in half, even if the whole world burns—we’re family! I’ll never let you go! I promise!”

“A… promise?”

For a moment, Gremory’s dark eyes flashed. In the demon world, she had learned that promises were contracts between humans—binding not by chains or documents, but by sheer will alone.

……It felt strange. Witches’ contracts were cold and cruel, but Cheshion’s promise felt warm.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll never let you go. I swear it on a black goat.”

“……”

A promise, and even a black goat as collateral? Gremory pouted sullenly. She still wanted to keep them safe, though.

“Come on, our little lucky charm. Let’s go eat something delicious, okay?”

Cheshion gently nudged her toward the tea room—though “tea room” was a generous term, considering the blood-dripping slabs of meat often served there.

Gremory felt both worried and relieved.

‘If I feel as warm around them as a cozy blanket… maybe they feel the same about me.’

That day, the entire household stuck close to Gremory. Isollen measured her for a new dress, Anna followed her around chattering like a lark, and the nuns took turns checking if she was still home.

Five days passed like this. While Gremory didn’t mind the attention, she was still uneasy.

Late at night, wrapped in her soft blanket, she asked Iris:

“Hey, Iris. Are we really going to be okay?”

—We’ll be fine. I get why you’re worried, but my brother isn’t weak. Even if Witch Hunters come, he won’t lose easily.

“……Right.”

Just as she was about to sleep, reassured—Gremory’s pupils turned crimson.

‘Intruders.’

Someone had broken in. On the second floor, west wing—near Isollen’s bedroom.

Cheshion had been struggling to sleep that night. Lately, he’d been sensing more royal spies lurking around.

‘They should’ve been satisfied just banishing me from the palace.’

The reason Cheshion had been exiled and made a Grand Duke was clear—it was because of Iris, who had been accused of witchcraft.

When Iris turned fifteen, the Emperor ordered Cheshion to lead a monster subjugation mission. Sensing something ominous, Cheshion rushed back—but it was too late. Iris had been subjected to a witch hunt, found with half her tongue cut out.

Holding his half-mad sister, Cheshion wept and swore vengeance against the royal family.

‘I wanted to kill them all. Father, my brothers—everyone.’

At the same time, Cheshion awakened the royal family’s most formidable combat ability. In that moment, no one could stop him.

The Emperor, sensing the threat through his own powers, foresaw the annihilation of the royal family. Desperate, he made Cheshion an offer.

Cheshion demanded one thing—the prohibition of witch hunts across the empire. The royal family had to publicly declare that witches didn’t exist and that witch hunts were merely political tools.

In return, Cheshion vowed to leave the capital with Iris and never return without permission. The land he was granted became the Grand Duchy of Edel. From then on, Cheshion was a Grand Duke in name but barred from the palace.

The contract between the Emperor and Cheshion was kept top secret—so much so that even Cheshion’s siblings didn’t know. The Emperor wanted to secure the crown for Severian, his son with the current Empress.

‘If the public knew I had the power to destroy the royal family, Severian would lose the people’s trust.’

What followed was a series of hardships. Managing the barren duchy was hard enough, but spies and assassins poured in daily—warnings from the fearful Emperor.

‘Since the contract forbade outright assassinations, they just flooded me with spies instead.’

Trade with other territories ceased entirely, all because the land was rumored to house a witch. Even the Emperor’s decree couldn’t erase centuries of superstition. The people nearly starved to death that winter. And Iris, blaming herself for her brother and the people’s suffering…

Walked onto a pyre.

“……Damn it.”

Cheshion lifted his head, staring at the night sky outside. No matter how hard he tried to forget, the memories never faded.

‘If Mori hadn’t spoken Iris’s words to me, I would’ve suffered until I followed her to the grave.’

It was a long night. Cheshion drank strong liquor, waiting for dawn, silently calling out to Iris—wherever she was in the estate.

“Iris. Are you listening?”

There was no reply, but he continued.

“You know, lately, Mori’s given me a reason to keep living. Just thinking about her makes me smile.”

After enduring so much hardship, light had finally returned. Cheshion vowed to protect Mori from those damned Witch Hunters at all costs.

Then—knock knock.

“Your Grace, we’ve finished interrogating the two intruders we captured earlier.”

“Good. Lead the way.”

Cheshion headed to the estate’s underground torture chamber. The assassins, thoroughly broken by the knights, spilled everything the moment they saw him.

“W-we were sent by His Highness Crown Prince Severian!”

“What? Severian? Not Father’s spies or assassins from rival families—but Severian’s men?”

“Yes! He was furious about being placed under house arrest, so he sent us!”

“Ha.”

Cheshion was speechless.

‘That idiot Severian must’ve acted without knowing about the secret contract between Father and me. This is a clear violation.’

According to the contract, the royal family and the Edel Grand Duchy were forbidden from sending assassins after each other. As Cheshion pondered how to handle this, one of the assassins added:

“Um… Your Grace. We weren’t the only assassins His Highness hired.”

“What?”