[V15C15] The Greedy Witch's Resolve

The crackling sound of fire. The smell of everything burning filled the air.

Just a short while ago, shouts had echoed through the village. Then it turned to screams, then to groans, and finally to prayers. Now, even those were gone. All the voices went silent.

This left only the crackling of the flames consuming the village, and the crashing of the houses as they collapsed.

(The sounds of a dying village.)

There was a boy with his lower body crushed under rubble. He was still breathing, but only barely. He did not have much time left.

The air near his face was scorching hot, so the flames must be spreading further. And yet, his legs buried under the rubble grew colder and colder.

(If I have to be burned to death… I wish it could be in the flames of God.)

The boy was born blind, so he had always been a burden to the village. His worth was zero, even as an offering to God.

In which case, he hoped to at least die in the flames of God. His divine breath was said to be a mighty and beautiful black. The boy had never known color, but according to his family, ‘black’ resembled the world as he saw it.

As time went on, the smell of smoke overtook the smell of blood. The boy choked on the fumes and coughed violently.

“Oh?”

A voice came from above him, as the faint scent of a flower wafted through the acrid air. A vivid and powerful fragrance. This was no humble wildflower.

“So there was a survivor.”

The voice belonged to a woman.

The boy could tell everyone from the village by voice, so he recognized this woman was an outsider. He had never heard a voice so sweet and lovely before.

“Perfect. I shall appoint you as gravekeeper.”

The woman spoke in a melodious voice as she flipped the pages of a book.

“You shall watch over trees and flowers instead of gravestones. Only one grave remains empty.”

At some point, the heat against his face had disappeared. The boy felt no warmth, no pain. He couldn’t even hear the crackling flames anymore.

The boy could not see, but the red flames set by the temple knights had been consumed by the black flames under the woman’s control.

All the boy sensed was the scent of flowers and the cold touch of fingers brushing his cheek. And finally, the woman’s sweet whispers.

“Until the day I bring your god back to you, you will guard their graves.”

The woman withdrew her fingers, and the scent of flowers grew stronger.

“Close… ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’.”

The book clapped shut.

＊　＊　＊

“Raul-sama!”

When Raul got dragged away by the vines, Monica panicked and tried to run after him.

However, her arm was quickly grabbed by Sophocles.

“Wait! Can we even catch up on foot?!”

Since this was in Cyril’s voice, Monica was momentarily struck by the illusion that Cyril had shouted at her.

As Monica stood frozen, Sophocles continued with a more composed expression.

“It has been quite a while since the last time I ran on my own feet. I am not very confident about my use of legs!”

“…”

Monica kept holding onto Sophocles’s arm, as the two walked off in search of Raul.

While walking, she took slow and deep breaths. She had not been thinking clearly, and that was a problem.

(I need to calm down.)

Currently, Monica could not cast magic unless she was in physical contact with Sophocles. She would be powerless if she rushed ahead alone.

(The plants took Raul-sama… I have to pull myself together.)

For a fleeting moment, she had the childish idea of asking Sophocles to say, “Get ahold of yourself!” in Cyril’s voice.

But that wouldn’t solve anything. She wanted to hear the real Cyril.

(Once everything is resolved… I want to talk to Cyril-sama again.)

Monica used her opposite hand to massage her cheeks. Her tightly drawn lips and stiff face loosened just a bit.

She was still far from cute, but this was surely an improvement over a tear-stained frown.

Monica lifted her head, straightened her back, and let out a deep breath through her nose.

(Raul-sama was taken in the same direction as the third mana response, which is not far from here. The problem is the durability of the plants. They’re not as strong as the Rose Fortress, but I’ll have trouble slicing through multiple layers of vines and branches at the same time. Spirit King Summoning would help, but…)

Without incantation, Monica concentrated on the magical formula for Spirit King Summoning… but she had to cancel it.

She could form the gate for Spirit King Summoning. The issue was that the gate refused to open, which meant it was not connected to the Spirit King.

(Just as I thought. Spirit King Summoning is not possible inside a forbidden tome.)

Monica tended not to rely on firepower. Her preferred fighting style was to take the initiative with chantless magic, and strike the enemy’s vital points with precision.

Her most powerful spells were the Star Arrow and Spirit King Summoning. However, the Star Arrow required dedicated magical tools, and Spirit King Summoning could not be used here.

(I’ll have to use reinforcement formulas to boost my power… But that reduces my range and accuracy. Still, I should be able to manage with double reinforcement. I just need to focus.)

Not that she had ever intended to let her guard down, but it would be wise to proceed with even greater caution.

(In order to focus…)

Before they reached the mana response, Monica suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Sophocles stumbled slightly ahead of her and glared back in annoyance.

“What’s going on? Why did you stop all of a sudden?”

“…If I want to use magic, I just need to be in contact with you, right, Sophocles-san?”

“I told you that earlier. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“In that case…”

Monica fixed her eyes on the pitch-black ring on Cyril’s right middle finger. Then, she pulled the ring off with a speed unlike her usual dullness.

Cyril’s body instantly lost all strength and collapsed on the spot.

Monica moved to catch Cyril, throwing herself in front of him to keep him from falling face-first. However, she didn’t last three seconds before she found herself getting crushed underneath him.

“Hebugyuu!? Ugh… I’m sorry, Cyril-sama…”

They both fell to the ground, but Monica’s intervention had at least spared Cyril’s face from hitting the dart.

With a series of grunts, Monica wriggled her way out from under Cyril. Then, she propped his unconscious body against a nearby tree.

Cyril weighed less than the average man, but this was still an exhausting effort to the physically weak Monica.

By the time Monica had him leaning against the tree, she had broken into a light sweat.

“Phew… I did it… Now I should be fine.”

“Why did you pull me off!? I was only being considerate, you know!”

The black ring in Monica’s hand flashed red in anger. And of course, his shouts were in the familiar voice of Sophocles rather than Cyril. That alone brought Monica a great deal of relief.

It was essential to stay calm and composed during a battle. Monica wanted to avoid anything that might break her concentration.

“You can form a temporary contract with me, right?”

Monica slipped the ancient artifact, the Key of Knowledge Sophocles, onto the index finger of her left hand. That finger provided the best fit.

“It is possible, yes, but…”

“Then this is the most rational way.”

Cyril was unconscious, so it made sense for Sophocles to possess Cyril’s body. That way, Monica and Raul could cast spells by touching Cyril, and they wouldn’t have to carry him around.

But now that they were close to their destination and Raul was missing, there was no longer any reason for Sophocles to stay in Cyril’s body.

Above all, it would allow Monica to fight without any distractions.

“We can form a temporary contract, right?”

Monica raised her left hand to eye level, staring at the ring on her finger with gleaming green eyes, still slightly red from crying.

Perhaps noticing the intensity of her gaze, Sophocles went dim.

“My youthful body, after so long…”

“We can, right?”

“Ugh, fine, I get it already!”

Sophocles gave in despite grumbling in protest.

After a flash of light, the contract mark appeared on Monica’s finger. Now, she could use Sophocles’s barriers in addition to her own magic. Not having to spend one of her spells on defense was very reassuring.

“Girl, you are not cute in the slightest.”

Not cute. Sophocles had said the same thing with Cyril’s body, and it drove her to tears.

But now, she did not feel the slightest pain in her chest.

After hearing those words in Cyril’s voice, her mind had been a tangled and chaotic mess.

(So that’s it… I really do love Cyril-sama.)

Quietly savoring the realization, Monica turned to face the sleeping Cyril.

Love was very problematic. You get jealous over little things, constantly swing between joy and sorrow, become weak to certain words…

(But that’s not all.)

Monica knew how strong a woman in love could be.

Bridget Greyham. A noble woman who endured long years searching for her first love.

(I want to become strong enough to stand beside the man I love. Strong, cute, cool… I want to have it all.)

Monica was being greedy and she knew it. But that would not change what she wanted. She wasn’t going to give up on a single thing.

She’ll get Raul back, escape out of this book, then head to the long-awaited sleepover.

Isaac was definitely cooking a feast, so she needed to finish Operation Cleanup in time for dinner.

Monica glanced at the sleeping Cyril and spoke with the most serious face she could muster.

“Cyril-sama, I’m off.”

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