[V15C8] In Front of the Daphne Odora

Sophocles was still shouting nonsense with Cyril’s body, but the two Sages grabbing his arms ignored him and continued onward.

First, Monica cast detection magic without incantation. By gradually expanding the range of her spell, she could get the overall picture of the world they were trapped in.

“…I see,” Monica murmured. “This world is not very large. It’s a circle about the size of the Roseberg Forest.”

From a three-dimensional point of view, they were essentially inside an enormous glass sphere filled to a third with soil, and countless trees had been planted inside.

In other words, they were surrounded by walls on all sides.

“All of the trees contain mana, but there are three especially large mana responses. We should head for the closest one first.”

“…What exactly do you plan to do?” Sophocles asked, grimacing at the girl holding his right arm.

Monica kept her gaze straight ahead and answered in a flat tone.

“This world and everything in it is maintained by magecraft, right?”

“I-Indeed.”

“I will study all of the walls and mana reactions in order to decipher the magic formulas making them up…”

Her round eyes gleamed under her light brown bangs.

“…Then, I will dismantle this world.”

The Silent Witch’s declaration caused Sophocles to let out a raspy gasp.

“I-Impossible. This is lost magic from the Old Era. A modern mage such as you cannot hope to…”

“As long as I can read the magic formulas, I can find the patterns to decipher them.”

Sophocles went silent, at a complete loss for words.

Suddenly, the trees ahead started rustling despite a complete lack of wind. Their branches bent toward them, as several vines slithered out like snakes.

Monica glared at the plants with an unusually fierce look in her eyes.

“Raul-sama, why do you think these plants are attacking us?”

“Either they’re the guards for eliminating the garden’s intruders, or maybe they’re trying to capture us for some reason. If this world is made out of magic, then it wouldn’t be strange for them to feed on humans.”

“So it’s okay for us to eliminate them.”

“Yeah.”

All of the vines and branches plunged at Monica and Raul simultaneously.

Monica stretched out her right hand and sent blades of wind to cut them down.

The vines and branches fell to her invisible blades, but they just kept growing back one after another. There was no end to them.

While Monica’s chantless magic kept the plants at bay, Raul dropped rose seeds onto the ground and began an incantation.

His chants usually sounded like a gentle song, but the tone he used now was terrifyingly heavy.

Eventually, the seeds at his feet sprouted out.

Raul tended to summon countless roses with vivid colors, but this one was a single vine with only two or three flowers.

“If we’re up against plants, then their weak point is obvious.”

The ground under Raul’s rose suddenly bulged up. Instead of channeling mana into the vines, he was sending it to their roots.

“I don’t like doing this because it hurts the soil… But well, this is an emergency.”

The surrounding trees start to tilt backwards. Their bases swelled and lifted off the ground as their roots cracked apart.

Raul had sent the roots of his rose plants through the soil to strike at the roots of the trees.

The trees toppled one after another, until the entire forest had collapsed.

Sophocles started trembling.

“Ah…! Ah…!”

The towering trees had been several times larger than Raul’s roses. It must have required a terrifying amount of power to uproot them.

Moreover, he made sure to topple all the trees in the same direction, carving out a path straight ahead.

Monica continued to mercilessly cut down the plants, as Raul used the sheer power of his roses to uproot each of the trees.

After a few minutes, the two witches had annihilated about a quarter of the entire forest.

“Alright, let’s continue forward.”

“Okay.”

Raul and Monica exchanged a few words before continuing their march.

They dragged the teary-eyed Sophocles along without even glancing at him.

＊　＊　＊

Due to Raul’s rose roots, the forest soil had been overturned here and there.

Monica paused at the base of an overturned tree, spotting several white fragments.

“Raul-sama… Is this…?”

“Yeah.”

Raul glanced around with his green eyes before answering in a casual tone.

“Bones. Probably from humans.”

The buried white fragments were not in any recognizable shape, but Raul sounded certain.

“I highly doubt that you can identify bones,” Sophocles said, staring at Raul with a suspicious look in his black eyes.

“I can’t, but based on what these types of plants feed on, it’s gotta be human bones.”

“…You say that rather easily.”

“Because people from the Old Era did that a lot.”

Raul spoke without any emotion, as if he was simply stating a historical fact.

Meanwhile, Monica silently examined the white bone fragments.

If shown the broken pieces of a vase, Monica could determine its original shape from just a few shards.

However, these bone fragments were too small to determine anything.

(…And it seems like they’re from a lot of different people… some adults, some children.)

Perhaps this was the fate of people trapped inside ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’.

If this world was made to sustain plants that recognize trapped people as food, then escape would not be easy.

“Do you think there is actually an exit…?” Monica asked.

“There should be one,” Raul answered, pointing at a set of trees that still stood upright. “This forest is arranged for viewing purposes. It needs an exit for the visitors and caretaker.”

“Viewing purposes?” Monica murmured, examining the surroundings.

She couldn’t tell the difference between a forest for viewing and a normal forest, but apparently, it was obvious to Raul.

“The spacing of the trees is different from a natural forest,” Raul explained. “Here, there is enough room to let people walk around and enjoy the view.”

That made sense, considering the book’s title of ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’. The forest was made to be someone’s garden.

In which case, an exit became more likely.

Monica thought quietly to herself.

(Finding the exit seems like an easier solution than destroying this world.)

Of course, if destroying it was the faster option, then she would do that without hesitation.

Because right now, her priority was to escape, get Cyril back from Sophocles, and have a doctor check the bump on his head.

＊　＊　＊

They found the first mana response at a spot just barely out of range of Raul’s forest destruction.

It was coming from a shrub about as tall as Monica’s waist. A cluster of white flowers bloomed among the dense green leaves.

Once they got closer, the faint scent of the flowers entered their nostrils—a refreshing and gentle fragrance.

“A daphne odora, huh? That’s rare,” Raul said, bending down slightly to observe the flowers without letting go of Cyril’s left arm.

Monica also bent down to look at the flowers. She had never seen or heard of this shrub before, so it was probably not common in Ridill.

The small flowers had deep pink near their base, creating a beautiful contrast with the white petals.

“They smell nice,” Monica said.

“Girl, those flowers are poisonous. You had better not eat them.”

“…”

Ignoring Sophocles’s comment, Monica continued observing the daphne odora shrub.

She could tell that it was charged with powerful mana, but it did not seem hostile like the trees.

(A magically charged plant with fragrant flowers… Does it serve as some kind of signal…?)

“You know,” Raul said. “My sister tried to make a magical perfume with these flowers once. But it didn’t work out because our family isn’t great at imbuing mana into plants other than roses.”

Raul seemed to be downplaying their skills, but House Roseberg’s compatibility with roses was downright abnormal.

If they could do the same thing with other plants, they would have probably taken over the world already. Humans were that dependent on plants.

“If you ask me,” Sophocles murmured. “Magical perfume is an incredible technique in its own right. Throughout all of Ridill, House Roseberg is the only one with that technology.”

That sounded strange to Monica, as she thought Melissa’s specialty was in drinkable potions.

“Um, is there demand for magical perfumes?”

“Yeah. They may be weaker than drinkable potions, but they’re still popular since they last longer. My sister makes them for fun sometimes.”

Monica recalled the magic of the Smoke Mage, Gideon Rutherford.

His magic applied various effects to tobacco smoke, affecting anyone who inhales it. Magical perfume probably had a similar effect.

“Perfume can’t be controlled as well as smoke,” Monica muttered. “But it can stick to skin or clothes. So that gives it a longer effect… I see…”

“Yeah, exactly. My sister said it’s useful for making someone suffer over a long period of time.”

As Monica and Raul talked about the usefulness of magical perfumes in front of beautiful flowers, Sophocles let out a groan.

“Ugh, you witches are truly terrifying… and utterly lacking where it counts too. Sigh, if I have to get caught in between, can at least one of you turn into a busty young lady…?”

Monica glared at Sophocles, pursing her lips in frustration. For some reason, she felt a restless stirring inside her chest.

“Um, please stop saying things like that while using Cyril-sama’s body.”

Sensing Monica’s slight irritation, Sophocles twisted his lips into a mean-spirited smirk.

“Hah! The curveless child doesn’t like the truth? Girl, that does not make you cute in the slightest.”

His remark caused Monica’s brain to freeze for a moment, and the next instant, the unrest inside her swelled to its peak.

(Huh…?)

The same voice that had praised the Lorelei’s song was now insulting Monica with a sneer.

This was Sophocles, not Cyril. Monica understood that in her head, but she still felt deeply hurt.

It reminded her of the tea party with Princess Cecilia the other day. Cecilia had been so happy to be called “cute” by the man she loved, and Monica was envious.

Monica knew it was too presumptuous to be called “cute”, but deep down, she longed for it. She wanted to hear that word from the man she loved.

As a result, hearing “not cute” from someone with the same voice shocked her more than she expected.

She did her best to forget about it, but Cyril’s voice kept replaying over and over in her head.

(Ah… I feel like crying…)

Sensing that his words were effective, Sophocles took the opportunity to press further.

“Scrawny.”

“Wah…”

“Shorty.”

“Waah…”

“You get a fifteen out of a hundred.”

“Waaah…”

“Hah! Good grief, getting hugged by such a little girl is no fun at all. You had better drink some milk so you can grow your breasts and height before adulthood!”

“I’ll be an adult on my next birthday…!”

Sophocles flinched back, widening his black eyes to the limit. He looked like he’d just experienced the shock of a lifetime.

“W-What…? You claim to be nineteen? How can this be…? Ugh…”

His look of contempt and pity only twisted the knife in Monica’s heart.

“Waaah… Hng…”

Monica reached her limit and started sobbing quietly.

This sent Sophocles into a panic.

“Ugh, stop crying! And get something to blow your nose!”

“Bwaaah…”

“Ugh, such a filthy face… and you’re supposed to be nineteen…”

Sophocles contorted his face in disgust, but then, Raul put additional force into the hand grabbing his arm.

“Hey, Sophocles.”

“Y-Yes?”

“I think you can just shut your mouth now, okay?”

“Were you always this harsh!?”

Sophocles tried to continue his rant, but Raul leaned in with a stern face, causing Sophocles to recoil back.

“…Just so you know,” Raul muttered in a heavy tone. “It’s gonna be a big problem if you say stuff like that in front of my sister. Being cornered by her magical perfume is seriously scary.”

Pressured by the unusually serious Raul, Sophocles averted his eyes and scoffed.

The next few chapters will be about the ones waiting at home. I hope you enjoy.

View the latest chapters at seeker142.github.io