Chapter 32: A Lead (3)

“Everyone, stay sharp…!”

In the face of the unexpected, Rowen’s tension grew visibly heavier.

She was a veteran hunter, but the times she had actually confronted a “real” witch could be counted with her fingers.

Witches were creatures that, like tumors, preferred to hide their existence. They disliked running into hunters.

It was not because killing them was hard. Much like most humans instinctively recoiled and felt disgust at the sight of bugs, witches felt that way about humans.

If the bug happened to be larger and aggressive, that alone was reason enough to flinch.

That was precisely how witches saw humans.

Which was why they avoided direct confrontation unless they had to.

They set traps, collected what they needed, and disappeared.

For Rowen, making up her mind to face one of those beings head-on was not easy.

‘Still, I have to do it. If the witch’s energy leaks out, I need to detect it first and respond.’

That was the only way to stop a greater disaster.

Hestia and Lou Gehrig both nodded. They were too nervous themselves to notice Rowen’s unsettled state. For rookies, trusting their senior was only natural.

Rowen suppressed her trembling heart and reached her hand into the empty space where Nike had vanished.

Swoosh—

She disappeared.

Hestia followed after her.

“U-Uaaghhhh!”

Lou Gehrig, restless and shaking, clenched his eyes shut and threw himself in.

Thud!

When he opened them again, he was sprawled on a cold wooden floor.

Rowen reached out her hand.

“Get up. Everyone’s safe.”

“…Oh. Y-Yes, ma’am.”

Nike and Hestia squinted and scanned the area. Lou Gehrig rose and looked around, then quickly sucked in his breath. His pupils trembled like someone who had seen something forbidden.

“…!”

“Yeah.”

Rowen gave a short reply. She too had swallowed her tension to speak.

“This is the witch’s nest.”

A tall log house. Its inside was full of corpses.

More precisely, mutilated corpses strewn everywhere.

It was impossible to tell whether they had once been human or beast. Everything was jumbled together.

Skin drained of blood and ribs jutting out, thighs cut off with their raw edges bared, a deer’s head, eyes and organs floating in glass jars.

“Urgh—!”

Lou Gehrig clapped his hand over his mouth and gagged. Hestia turned pale as well, feeling sick.

Only Rowen, who was used to such horrors, and Nike, who had once created scenes like this himself, managed to stand without faltering.

Goosebumps broke out over Rowen’s body.

Even being used to it did not mean she was feeling completely okay.

She sighed as she felt her mental strength being eroded.

“That portal… Why was it linked to the witch’s nest?”

“This is the house of the Witch of Distortion.”

Nike answered with surprising certainty. Rowen widened her eyes and asked again.

“The Witch of Distortion… lives here?”

“Lived!”

Nike corrected her cleanly. The witch was not here anymore.

“Then what did you mean when you said you smelled a witch?”

“Exactly that. It smelled like a witch. Because this is where she lived.”

“Ah…”

The logic was simple enough.

Since Sestria had lived here, her scent and traces lingered.

‘Gotta stay focused.’

Rowen pinched the back of her hand as she felt her reason slipping into fear. She forced herself to analyze the situation calmly.

“Most likely, Sestria created a portal here to cross into the Dark Forest.”

“…T-That seems correct.”

The potion’s effect was still active so she was still able to see mana currents. Around this log house, clusters of mana moved everywhere.

“Good. We found out her route of attack. Next we need to learn the reason for it.”

“…Got it.”

“Let’s search. The witch is gone, but danger remains. Be careful.”

“…”

“Gather every clue that might be useful. Okay?”

Nod, nod.

The three rookies stayed quiet and nodded their heads.

― Uuuuugh!

― Grrrrr.

― Kikik, kikiki.

From outside came monstrous cries. Likely, the chimeras sewn together from the many bodies littered here.

“We don’t know what traps lie in a witch’s nest. Touch the wrong thing and we could be cursed  by the witch’s power. If you find something, do not touch it. Call me right away.”

There was no witch, so this was not the worst case.

Collect the information carefully and leave. That was all.

It was at that moment, as Nike’s group moved while holding their breath.

Creeeak—

“…!”

“!!!!”

A floorboard creaked upstairs. All four of them froze and ducked down.

The log house was silent except for the cries outside, yet something was moving on the upper floor.

Rowen gestured orders with her hands.

― Move as quietly as possible.

― Nike leads. I follow. Lou Gehrig and Hestia enter in that order.

― Capture if possible. Kill if not.

Nod, nod.

Hestia and Lou Gehrig understood and nodded quickly. Rowen whispered special instructions to Nike alone, but he had already grasped everything, which was astonishing in itself.

Swish— Nike slipped up the stairs first, swift and silent.

The other three followed in tense formation. The stench of rotting bodies and animals filled their noses, numbing their senses and gnawing at their minds.

At the height of their tension,

Nike burst forward with a spring of his legs.

“…N—!”

Rowen nearly shouted but shut her mouth. Instead she drew her swordstick and leapt up the stairs.

“…Huh?”

When she arrived, Nike was rolling on the floor with someone.

“Aaah! P-Please! Spare me! What are you!”

“Die! Die!”

“A person…?”

Lou Gehrig and Hestia, arriving behind, were clearly startled.

“Nike. Stop.”

“Gya.”

At Rowen’s command, Nike released the man’s throat and slid to the side, crouching as if ready to kill again at any moment.

The man with his nose bleeding, scrambled to his knees and begged Rowen. He seemed to know instantly who the leader of this party was.

“Spare me. Please, spare me…!”

The man’s legs were shackled.

“Who are you?”

Rowen pressed a blade to his neck.

The man raised his bony arms to show he had no intent to resist. A damp rag slipped from his hand and fell onto his knees.

“…I-I was captured by the witch.”

“A sex slave!”

“Where did you even learn a word like that!?”

“…Nike. Don’t say stuff like that.”

Hestia pinched his cheek until he yielded, dragging him back.

“I-I goht iht.”

While she handled Nike, the man resumed speaking.

“I… I was indeed a slave, but not like that…”

It did not seem to be a lie. His gaunt body, the shackles, the traces of him scrubbing the floor.

He was nothing like the healthy men witches kept for their nights. It was clear what kind of existence he had lived in this cabin.

Rowen lowered her blade. The man collapsed at her feet, begging her.

“Forgive me… B-But please give me water, please…”

His dry voice added that he had not had a sip in days.

‘Since the Witch of Distortion is dead, I don’t think he’s lying. No one has been here for days.’

Rowen handed him her canteen. The man drank desperately. Nike snatched it and drank the rest.

“Thank you, thank you…! I cannot repay this grace enough.”

With some strength returning, the man bowed and rubbed his palms together like a fly. Tears streaked down his dirty face.

“Wait.”

Then, Rowen suddenly grabbed his wrist and twisted it up to look at it.  

A tattoo of an eye inside a triangle was revealed.

She waited a moment, then asked,

“What is this mark?”

“Oh, t-this is…”

His face darkened.

Nike leaned close out of curiosity.

Hestia and Lou Gehrig, recognizing the mark, immediately drew their weapons.

Even Nike knew it. He had seen it in Carlton’s lessons.

“Heretic!”

“…T-That’s…”

The man trembled under their eyes. Rowen’s lips curled bitterly.

The eye in the triangle.

Behind it, the shining dawn.

“You… You’re Golden Dawn, aren’t you?”

Rowen stood again, gripping her sword. The warmth in her tone turned cold. She stared at him like a pest.

The man shook his head violently.

“N-No! Not anymore, I swear…!”

“Then.”

Clang—the sword pressed deeper. Lou Gehrig’s axe hung at his nape, Hestia’s scythe hovered before his eye.

“…Damn it! I will explain everything, just pull these away first.”

Rowen pricked his neck with her blade. A drop of blood slid down. She pressed harder.

“Explain first.”

Sweat dripped down his face. Realizing Rowen was not merciful, he began.

“I-I was offered as a sacrifice to the witch.”

“Sestria?”

“What? How do you know…”

His eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“For a cultist… that would be an honor. To be sacrificed to a witch.”

Rowen sneered without hesitation. Her rare charisma as a subleader made Nike watch her in quiet admiration.

“N-No, of course not…! That is not it. I only wished to welcome the great god. I never wanted to waste away cleaning floors and waiting to be used for experiments! I was deceived too!”

At his cry, Rowen’s eyes became cold.

A cult of witch worshipers.

The Golden Dawn.

Since men couldn’t bear the power of the evil god, they served the witches in order to worship the deity through them.

Naturally, as fanatics who revere witches, they stand in direct opposition to witch hunters. More than a few hunters have fallen to their hands.

Worse, they looked like ordinary humans until they suddenly struck. That made them harder to deal with.

“…So. Why was a cultist like you sacrificed to Sestria? Speak.”

Conflict passed across his face. Live and be imprisoned, or die shredded for his faith.

The decision was quick. He had long since lost his illusions about witches and gods. Reality was cruel.

“I heard… the Golden Dawn requested her for aid.”

“From Sestria?”

“Yes.”

The instant the link was confirmed, the Golden Dawn was revealed as the hand behind this attack.

“What aid?”

The man’s eyes darted around. He looked as if afraid the witch might still be listening.

But if he stayed silent, the hunters would kill him first anyway.

He had already abandoned faith. What did betray even mean at this point?

“T-They asked her to kidnap a certain boy.”

Rowen frowned.

That certain boy is likely…

“Who?”

The man screwed his face up, forcing the memory.

“I was… low-rank… I don’t know for certain… but I heard roughly—huh?”

He froze mid-sentence, staring at Nike. His lips quivered as if to speak.

But something in his reaction was wrong.

Rowen quickly pressed on.

“Wait. Did it look like this boy?”

“…Yes. Yes. Gray hair, gray eyes. There is… no mistake. Ha, ahahaha.”

The man realized that the boy who had attacked him fit the exact description given by his superiors.

Rowen looked from the man to Nike.

“Nike?”

The mysterious boy in question. Nike’s eyes were glowing red. He snapped his head toward the outside.

Rowen’s hair stood on end.

She felt another presence.

Hestia and Lou Gehrig also turned to the window.

It wasn't a human presence. The brush outside shook violently. A wave of dread washed in.

It was not the presence of chimeras prowling nearby.

Something far more dangerous was drawing near.

― !

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