[V15C16] A Shout of Rage Shaking the Forest

This forest was a graveyard. Its plants were the graves of the boy’s brethren.

They had been left to decay in the charred village, but the witch created a final resting place for them.

And not only that. She said she would also bring them the god they revered.

The boy rejoiced and thanked the witch, unaware of the true meaning behind her words.

The witch ordered the boy to guard the graves, teaching him the names of the trees and flowers serving as gravestones.

The boy touched each of the plants, doing his best to remember.

“Are you blind?” asked the witch.

“Yes.”

The witch did not pity him or call him useless. She simply murmured, “I see,” as if verifying a fact.

Then, she began chanting in a beautiful, song-like voice.

The boy’s blindness meant he was unable to witness the witch’s miracles.

But he did notice a sweet, mesmerizing fragrance drifting through the air after her incantation. The scent of a flower he did not recognize.

“When you walk through the forest, use this smell as your guide.”

“What flowers are these?”

Her enchanting voice whispered the name of each plant.

First, the daphne odora.

Second, the gardenia.

Third…

＊　＊　＊

Monica clenched her left hand, the one wearing the Key of Knowledge Sophocles, as she made her way through the forest.

She knew little about plants, but even she could tell that the vibrant green leaves had gradually changed into a withered brown as she continued.

The scent of flowers became stronger the closer she got. A sweet smell distinct from roses.

Eventually, after passing through a row of tall trees, Monica arrived at a small clearing.

There, she found a single tree blooming with small orange flowers.

The tree was about twice Monica’s height; not exactly massive, but not small either. Its supple branches were lush with deep green leaves, and carried clusters of small orange flowers. She did not recognize the species.

Several petals had fallen to the ground, covering it in a vivid orange.

She also found Raul standing in front of the tree. He was staring at the ground to Monica’s right, so his face was not visible to her.

Even so, Monica sensed something off.

Raul was not speaking or even moving, yet his presence alone sent a chill racing down her spine.

Monica rarely felt this kind of fear, even when face-to-face with creatures of immense strength.

The entity in front of her possessed more than just power.

It was alien. Inhuman. Something revolting wearing human skin.

“…How irritating,” Raul murmured as he slowly turned toward Monica.

Monica flinched, noticing the rose vine wrapped around Raul’s shoulder, blooming a single flower of deep crimson. It was as though the flower had been planted directly onto him.

She immediately understood that this flower was bad news.

Raul’s expression remained mostly blank, with a hint of annoyance. His green eyes narrowed slightly beneath his long lashes, glaring at the black ring on Monica’s hand.

“Are you the Librarian?” Raul asked.

“N-No,” Monica replied.

“Then are you a Roseberg?”

“N-No.”

“I see. What a shame. If you were a Roseberg, I could have tormented you to death.”

A creeping sense of dread crawled up Monica’s spine. This was mostly fear, but also a profound sense of discomfort.

Monica was reminded of the time Raul invoked the Rose Fortress by borrowing the power of the First Thorn Witch.

(…But something feels different this time.)

When controlling the Rose Fortress, Raul acted exactly like how the First Thorn Witch should. He became the wicked witch from the legends passed down to everyone in Ridill.

But now…? The entity in front of Monica was the same notorious witch, but there seemed to be something more.

What if the legends did not portray the full picture of the First Thorn Witch? Just like how the public image of the Silent Witch differed greatly from Monica herself.

Monica could not shake the feeling that she had touched upon something lost to the annals of history.

“Who are you…?” Monica asked.

“…”

“Are you the First Thorn Witch… Rebecca Roseberg-sama?”

The Thorn Witch stared silently at Monica, then curled her lips into a smirk and placed her right hand on her neck.

The tanned arm of Raul started digging its nails into his own neck.

The pure, unadulterated hatred on the Thorn Witch’s face made Monica freeze in fear.

“If I turn this body into a gruesome corpse, I wonder how the Rosebergs will react? I would love to see their faces.”

“N-No! Please stop!”

There didn’t seem to be any room for negotiation, so Monica chose to fight. She formed a lightning arrow without incantation, and aimed it at the Thorn Witch.

However, the surrounding plants extended their vines to block the spell.

As expected, this world, ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’, was an ally of the Thorn Witch.

Meanwhile, the Thorn Witch stroked the scorched vine and let out a soft murmur.

“Your magic is so bland… like some stiff mathematical formula.”

Monica pouted her lips.

Modern magecraft was often likened to mathematical formulas, but that was a sign of how perfect and beautiful they were.

“It’s not bland,” Monica snapped back, forgetting her fear for a second. “Formulas and mathematics are beautiful.”

In response, the Thorn Witch started laughing for some reason. Rather than Raul’s hearty laughs, hers was more like a soft chuckle.

“Though your magic is bland, I find you intriguing. Casting without incantation… or rather, an incantation shortened to the point of nonexistence… To think that someone managed to reach that point.”

The Thorn Witch paused her words and began an incantation. She chanted in a song-like rhythm distinct from modern magecraft.

Monica fired another lightning arrow at the Thorn Witch, but again, the surrounding plants moved on their own to protect her.

Right when the plants had finished gathering in one place, Monica cast a different spell.

(Double reinforcement this time!)

Her doubly-reinforced blade of wind slashed through the tangle of vines in an instant. This created a hole in a vines, revealing the Thorn Witch standing defenseless on the other side.

Determined to finish it here, Monica sent another lightning arrow. But then, the Thorn Witch put on a faint smile.

“——Black. Black. How do you like black?”

The Thorn Witch extended a finger, and a wisp of flame appeared at the tip. A black flame with a reddish tint, like congealed blood, was sent flying at Monica.

Sophocles flashed red in Monica’s hand.

“No! Girl, you need to run!”

Sophocles deployed a defensive barrier in front of Monica. His power as an ancient artifact meant his barriers were practically impervious to spells.

However, a single lick of the witch’s black flames burned it to a crisp.

(Black flames…!?)

Only a black dragon should be able to control the black flames capable of incinerating everything in existence.

Apparently, it had once existed as a form of magecraft, but research on black flames was considered taboo in the modern era.

(Raul-sama was only supposed to be able to use the First Thorn Witch’s Rose Fortress… How can he use black flames too…?)

Monica ran as fast as her clumsy feet would carry her, hiding behind a nearby tree. The black flames drifted through the air in pursuit, like a snake slithering in slow motion.

Meanwhile, the Thorn Witch raised her right hand, and the flames returned to her, twirling around her hand.

“…Moving this body is such a pain. I feel so dull and heavy.”

She looked down on the calloused fingers of a man used to farm labor, opening and closing her hands with a scowl.

Monica gulped from behind the tree.

Raul was acting even stranger than usual. ‘The Botanical Specimen Garden’ must have done something to him.

Either way, this was a very dangerous situation.

Monica was locked out of Spirit King Summoning, while the Thorn Witch had possessed the all-powerful trump cards of black flames and the Rose Fortress.

“Witch of chantless magic, state your name. I’ll remember it.”

Monica timidly peeked out her upper body from behind the tree.

This was not the most dignified posture, but she had little choice with the black flames flickering in front of her.

“…The Silent Witch, Monica Everett.”

“I see. You have stumbled upon the truth. Now, make your choice.”

The Thorn Witch slowly lifted one hand. As if offering it to Monica… or performing the gesture of strangling her.

Her green eyes glowed as she asked the question.

“Submission, or death?”

Monica did not need to think about her answer. It had been decided from the beginning.

In front of the enchanting witch’s wicked smile, Monica put on her bravest face and declared…

“Give Raul-sama back.”

The black flames danced through the air, snaking around the trees to reach Monica.

Monica did her best to run while keeping a close eye on their movements.

(Just as I thought… She doesn’t want to burn the forest.)

If the Thorn Witch really wanted Monica dead, she could’ve razed the entire forest. But her black flames avoided the trees to target only Monica.

In that case, Monica would have a chance if she escapes into a denser area of the woods.

…Which might have been possible if she possessed at least average physical ability.

“Higyah!?”

“Dammit girl…!!”

Monica got her foot caught on a plant vine and fell flat on her face. Sophocles shouted in surprise from her left hand.

Now that she had stopped moving, the plant vines swarmed her from all directions. In a panic, Monica sent wind blades to cut through them.

However, she was completely surrounded by black flames by the time she dealt with the vines. One step in any direction, and she’d be burned into a crisp.

The Thorn Witch slowly walked over to Monica, crunching dry leaves underneath her feet. The face of a man who usually laughed with cheer was twisted into the sadistic grin of a witch.

“…Now, what color of rose will you bloom for me?”

The Thorn Witch performed another song-like incantation, and roses began sprouting at her feet. She had summoned the Man-Eating Rose Fortress.

The rose vines slithered toward Monica, weaving through the gaps in the black flames. Right as their thorny tips were about to impale her, Monica saw something.

A glimmer of silver hair in the bright, yet sunless forest. Blue eyes burning with rage.

“Cyril-sama…!”

He had rushed over and clenched his right fist, raising it high in the air.

The Thorn Witch noticed his arrival and tried to react, but her movements were sluggish.

Just like how Sophocles had trouble moving Cyril’s body, it seemed the Thorn Witch was also unaccustomed to controlling the bodies of others.

He was up against the most powerful witch in history, wielder of both black flames and the Rose Fortress.

And yet, Cyril Ashley landed a solid punch on her left cheek.

“You’re scattering roses everywhere in the middle of my cleaning!? What is the meaning of this outrage!?”

The fury of a janitor scorned shook the entire forest.

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