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“Vivian was stumped by the woman’s proposal.”

A myriad of questions hit her all at once.

“Would you want to be a witch?” Was the woman actually a witch?

Was it because she was a witch that she could come up to this high place without causing a stir?

What would happen if she called the guards now? What was her purpose in coming closer?

“Don’t overthink it too much.”

The woman’s soft voice broke through Vivian’s thoughts.

With a puff of smoke, she entered the room with an alluring grace.

Vivian instinctively took a step back.

She felt a primal fear, yet an equally strange curiosity held her in place.

Leaning against the tea cabinet, Vivian mustered her courage again.

“W-who are you?”

“You already know the answer.”

Vivian echoed back, “Are you a w-witch?”

“Call me Elena.”

The witch, who introduced herself as Elena, sat down at Vivian’s desk. With just a snap of her fingers, a previously extinguished candle lit up.

With that, the witch’s face became clearly illuminated.

Vivian froze at the magical sight.

However, without acknowledging Vivian’s confusion, the witch continued.

“Vivian Rondore. Last direct descendant of the Rondore family. Fourteen years old. Lord of Roktana. Quite a precarious situation. Numerous adversaries. An assassination attempt has already happened once. Within this vast territory, the only person you could call an ally… might be Lady Linne?”

The witch, spouting Vivian’s history as if it were a mere story, showed no signs of agitation.

“It must have been tough for you.”

“…”

The sweetness of her consolation felt overwhelmingly out of place given the situation.

Vivian swallowed hard and kept her eyes on the witch.

Elena smiled warmly and said, “If you stay too guarded, it will hurt my feelings.”

“H-how should I not be guarded…? You’re a w-witch!”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

Vivian listed off the knowledge she had learned from Lady Linne.

“The existence of witches is strictly forbidden by the Ras church…! Did you not know that someone can be executed just for being a witch? Just recently, I stamped a witch execution order!”

“That doesn’t give you a reason to be guarded against me.”

“I learned that witches worship demons…! They cause harm to many people!”

“Worshipping demons is a misconception. And causing harm to others? That’s something everyone can be guilty of. I’m sure even some grannies out there have lived their lives causing trouble for others.”

Elena’s voice was both enticing and sharp.

After blowing out another puff of smoke, Elena rose from her seat.

She slowly approached Vivian with a languid gait.

Vivian remained still. Whether it was fear, tension, or perhaps bravado—she couldn’t tell.

“Vivian Rondore, as I said before… I came because it looks like you need help.”

“…”

Vivian wanted to argue, but the words caught in her throat. Elena’s words pierced right through her hidden helplessness, as they accurately targeted her pain.

Vivian did indeed need help.

Elena calmly continued.

“You can’t do anything on your own, can you? No one trustworthy by your side? Struggling with the fear of death?”

Each of her words dug deep into Vivian’s heart. A stranger was approaching her, barefoot and relentless.

Vivian felt a pang in her chest. Just moments ago, hadn’t she been sharing the same agonies?

Amidst her loneliness, feeling the shadow of death closing in, hadn’t she been ridiculing her own worthlessness?

“You’re still being tormented by that detestable enemy, aren’t you?” the witch whispered closer to Vivian’s ear.

“You want to defeat Kyle Allen, don’t you?”

Upon hearing that name, Vivian’s heart began to race. The witch could read her feelings like an open book. The image of Kyle, who mocked her family’s weakness and their deaths, was vivid in her mind.

She did not want to lose to him.

Yet beneath the witch’s sweet words, Vivian could sense a lurking darkness.

“H-how do you know so much about me?”

“I’ve been watching you. You looked like you could use a hand.”

“So you just thought I looked like I needed help, and that’s why you came to find me? What could I say to you?”

The witch shrugged.

“Well, if I were to be honest… I thought you might be able to help me. I figured we could help each other out.”

Elena’s tone was light, but her intentions were clear.

“You see, the persecution against witches has been escalating.”

She turned to gaze out the window.

“The witch hunts by the Ras church are rampant… and the search nets are cast wide. Most of the time, innocent people die instead of witches, but occasionally, real witches do get caught and executed too.”

“…”

“But wait a minute!” The witch turned back to stare directly at Vivian.

“You are the lord of this Roktana, right? And you need help? I thought we could join forces.”

“W-why should I do that? Witches deserve to die.”

Vivian answered with a trembling voice.

Even having said that, the witch showed no distress. Such disdain seemed natural to her.

“There’s no need to hold on to inflexible stances, is there? If you want my help, if you decide to become my apprentice, if you choose to become a witch… then you could surely stand strong and command many people without trembling.”

“…”

It would be a lie to say she didn’t hesitate at that offer.

Something deep within her stirred.

Whatever power the witch possessed, Elena’s confidence hinted at a solution to all the troubles Vivian faced.

The witch brought her long pipe to Vivian’s face.

Vivian flinched and turned her head away at the sight of the burning tobacco, but Elena didn’t stop and pressed the end of it against Vivian’s left cheek.

Surprisingly, instead of the expected heat, a cool sensation trailed down Vivian’s face.

As Elena held her gaze steadily, she said, “Here’s the simple deal, Vivian. If you promise to help me just a little… I’ll teach you the powers of a witch. It’s a rare opportunity. I find you interesting. The lord of Roktana as my apprentice… Haha, isn’t that fun?”

“What… what exactly is a witch’s power?”

“You could kill someone you desire with a curse… or eavesdrop on others… You’d gain a weapon that no one knows about.”

In a nutshell, it was an unsettling kind of power. But it was also undeniably concrete.

Desperate to shake off the discomfort, Vivian pressed on.

“B-but if it gets out that I’m a witch… I’d die.”

“If you keep going like this, you’ll die anyway.”

“…”

“Isn’t it time to make a choice?”

Vivian fell silent. The weight of the witch’s words grew heavier.

Before she knew it, Vivian found herself unable to easily dismiss this enticing offer.

Rather than rejecting it outright, she was calculating the risks and benefits.

Was it really okay to grasp something so easily? Was there some hidden agenda?

If she accepted, what would change? What future awaited her? What would she have to sacrifice…

“But if that’s the case… wouldn’t it be enough for you to help me without me having to become a witch?”

“Oh my. I came here to be your mentor, not to become your servant. I can’t tolerate the humiliation of being someone’s servant.”

“…”

“And true power must be wielded by oneself. It’s not something you can just pass off to others.”

Vivian had no rebuttal.

Ultimately, she was merely sulking over the discomfort of becoming a witch.

“So… is that really it? If I help you, you’ll grant me power?”

The witch noticed Vivian wavering and smiled.

Then she candidly revealed, “Ah, there is one more thing.”

“What?”

“This isn’t saying you need to do something for me… But to officially become a witch, there is a price that must be paid. After all, you can’t just gain mighty power without a cost. A sacrifice… that’s the price.”

“A… sacrifice?”

After staring intently, the witch quietly replied.

“…Something most precious to you.”

“…”

“To officially become a witch, you must sacrifice what you hold most dear.”

If Vivian had heard such words a few years ago, she would certainly have ended the conversation right then and there.

But at this moment, the witch’s words didn’t sound nearly as chilling.

“What’s most precious…”

Vivian muttered softly, lowering her gaze. Her mind drifted into the past.

Her father’s warm smile. Her brother’s dependable presence. Her mother’s comforting embrace… all of that had now vanished.

Vivian realized she had nothing precious left.

“…I… I have nothing precious left.”

The witch replied as if it was fine.

“You don’t need to sacrifice anything right now. Witches usually only offer their sacrifices when they come of age. They need to be old enough to recognize what they hold dear.”

“What if when I come of age, I still have nothing precious left?”

“That’s something to consider when the time comes.”

“What about you? What did you sacrifice?”

The witch placed a hand on her lower abdomen.

“I sacrificed my descendants.”

“…”

“Both my children and the children they would have had… all of them.”

Vivian was at a loss for words.

This proposal, which approached her in her moment of powerlessness, was indeed tempting.

The fear of death, the pressures of adulthood, the helplessness and ridicule she felt within herself—it was all too much to bear.

“…”

Yet, her indecision remained. She couldn’t boldly step forward, unsure of what meaning the precious things she might have in the distant future would hold. Whether such things would even come into existence was questionable.

Vivian asked.

“If I must sacrifice something precious… does that give meaning to becoming a witch?”

“You can’t have everything. If you can gain what you desire by sacrificing a bit of happiness, then so be it.”

“…”

“Vivian, you can survive and achieve your revenge.”

The witch stated simply.

“Isn’t that what you need most right now?”

 

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