Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 5 - Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Looking for Love at the Rehnberg Estate

Five days after the cursed dragon appeared in the Duchy of Rehnberg, a man arrived at the duke’s estate just after noon. He had striking, uneven violet hair, and the moment he saw the maid assigned to guide him, he clung to her with a look of desperation as his pink eyes darted about.

“I-if I’m needed, that means I’m loved, right? That’s what I should assume, yes? Please, I’m begging you, tell me you love me. Please love me. Love me, love me, love me…”

This love-starved man was Ray Albright, the Abyss Shaman, and he’d managed to put off all the maids within moments of arriving.

Like Monica, he was one of the Seven Sages. And he was the foremost expert on shamanic techniques and cursecraft in the kingdom.

Bartholomeus gave Monica’s staff a shake to make sure the decorations were firmly attached, then nodded in satisfaction.

“There we go, kid. All fixed.”

Monica nervously reached out and took the staff with her right hand. She was sitting on the couch in her room, wearing her Sage robe and trying to make herself as small as possible. Her staff’s ornaments were back to normal, at least visually, and the tool made a high-pitched jingle when she shook it.

She channeled her mana into it as a test and felt it travel into the staff without any issues. It even made it through the spot where the decorations had been broken.

“Wow…” Monica gasped in admiration despite herself.

The Seven Sages’ staffs were magical items embedded with extremely precise and complex magecraft. To repair one, one had to understand magecraft formulae and possess the skills and techniques of a craftsman. Monica had spent a little time studying magical item engineering at Minerva’s, but she didn’t have anywhere near the skills required to repair something as advanced as a Sage’s staff.

Nero poked the staff’s decorations. Then he looked at Bartholomeus, impressed. “Hey, you’re pretty handy. Glad to have you around, henchman.”

“Heh, well, a looong time ago, I worked at a magical item workshop. I gotta say, that curse was really something. It takes a lot to wreck an advanced magical item like this. Hey, kid, how’s your left hand? Still not moving?”

Monica leaned the staff against the sofa, then nodded a little, rubbing her left hand with her right.

No one but Felix and Nero knew about what had happened that night five days prior—about how she and Felix had confronted the cursed dragon and how Nero had incinerated it with his black flames. Felix had told Duke Rehnberg and the others that the cursed dragon’s remains had disappeared at some point, likely devoured by the curse and destroyed. Regarding Monica’s injury, he’d said she sustained it during the battle with the cursed dragon, and that it had gotten worse after the fact.

Those excuses were best for both Felix and Monica. Felix didn’t have to reveal that he’d snuck out of the estate at night, and Monica and Nero’s identities could remain hidden.

With the complete destruction of the shamanic tool, the curse eating away at Glenn and Monica had disappeared, but Glenn still hadn’t regained consciousness. Both Glenn’s body and Monica’s hand were also dark red and bruised—possibly an aftereffect of the curse. The bruise itself had a branched pattern, like blood vessels or the branches of a tree. Meanwhile, Monica had essentially lost the ability to hold anything in her left hand. It was fine if she kept it still, but even bending a finger slightly resulted in stinging pain.

The situation was inconvenient, but her self-professed collaborator, Bartholomeus Baal, was helping her out. He frequently went to check on Glenn, and now he’d fixed her broken staff. He’d even gotten one of the maids he was friendly with to help Monica change clothes and bathe. At the end of the day, it was nice to be able to ask him for help without having to write out little notes, like she had to with the other servants.

The problem is, how do I introduce him to Miss Ryn…?

As she was mulling this over, Bartholomeus seemed to notice something and glanced toward the hallway.

“What’s that? There’s a lotta commotion around the front door… I’ll go check it out,” he said, hurrying out of the room.

Monica checked to make sure the door was closed, then flopped down on the couch.

Nero, who was standing behind it, leaned over the back and peered into her face. “Good job hangin’ in there, Master.”

“Mm. But now there’s so much to do, I don’t even know where to start…”

Introducing Bartholomeus to Ryn would be difficult, but at the moment, Monica was more concerned about Felix knowing Nero’s true identity. He’d barely visited her since they’d slain the cursed dragon. And the few times he had come to check on her, he’d had escorts and servants with him, so they couldn’t talk about Nero.

Nero says he made Felix promise not to tell anyone, but… Ugh. Not even Mister Louis knows Nero is the Black Dragon of Worgan…

She buried her face in a couch cushion and groaned.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Bartholomeus called to her from the hallway.

“Hey, uh, there’s a guest for the Silent Witch.”

For me? Who could it be?

Monica pulled her robe’s hood down, hid her mouth behind her veil, and glanced at Nero. Her familiar nodded once, then opened the door.

Through the gap, she could see a pair of glowing pink eyes and uneven violet hair.

“D-do you…love me?”

Nero shut the door.

“Um, Nero,” said Monica, “please let him in…”

“I think we should send him away,” her familiar replied.

“We can’t do that!”

Nero scrunched up his nose, then pulled open the door.

Ray had plastered himself to the outside of it, and now he slid down the surface and crumpled onto the floor. Crawling, he made his way across the room. Monica wished he would just come in like a normal person.

Bartholomeus, who was in the hallway, cast a troubled glance at Nero. “Uh, Boss… Who is this?”

“Thanks for bringing him,” Nero replied. “Keep everyone away from this room for a while. That’ll be all.” Then he closed the door and locked it.

Ray slithered across the floor. Eventually, when he reached the couch Monica was sitting on, he looked up at her from below.

“It’s, um, good to see you again, Lord Abyss Shaman…,” Monica began awkwardly. “And, ummm, you arrived quite…quickly.”

“I had the Barrier Mage’s contracted spirit take me…”

“Miss Ryn?”

Louis’s contracted spirit, Rynzbelfeid, was a high wind spirit. She would have been able to fly him here quickly no matter how far away he was.

“Is Miss Ryn here?” she asked.

“She dropped me off, then went straight back to the royal capital… They’re busy preparing for the New Year’s ceremony.”

It was a shame that she wouldn’t be able to take Ray back to the capital, but Monica was also secretly relieved. If Ryn had stayed, Bartholomeus would have put a lot of pressure on Monica to introduce them.

That would make everything infinitely more complicated…

Ray, still on the floor, tugged at the hem of Monica’s robe. “I heard nobody died… A cursed dragon appeared, and somehow nobody died… You can’t block curses with normal defensive barriers… What in the world happened…?”

“Oh, um… I tried making my own anti-curse barrier, and… It seemed to work just fine…”

Ray’s expression visibly tensed.

“…You made…an anti-curse barrier?”

“Ummm, well, based on the victim’s symptoms, I hypothesized that curses are similar to dark-aspected magecraft, so I constructed a compound circuit at clauses seven and ten of the barrier…”

The anti-curse barrier was still unresearched and unverified. Actual examples of curses were few and far between, so they weren’t easy to look into.

Monica didn’t think it was worth getting excited over yet, but Ray rolled over on the floor and stared up at the ceiling.

“That’s an incredible feat… They’re going to have to add pages to all the textbooks…”

“No, ummm, there’s still a lot of work to be done before—”

“Now shamans are basically useless… Nobody needs me now…”

“Um, I d-d-d-didn’t shay that!” she said, fumbling her words.

Ray clung to Monica’s boots, tossing and turning on the floor. She wished he’d sit down.

“…Am I…needed?”

Feeling a cold sweat break out across her forehead, Monica quickly nodded. “Yes! Um, of course…!”

“If I’m needed, then that means I’m loved, right? Then please, tell me you love me… I want to be loved, I want to be loved, I want to be loved…”

Nero grabbed Ray by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up. He then tossed the Sage like a toy onto the couch across from Monica.

“If all you need is someone to say they love you, I’ll say it as many times as you want,” said Nero. “I love you, I love you. See? I said it. Now, can we get to the medical exam?”

“…I don’t want a man to say it. It has to be a girl.” Ray turned away and pouted.

Nero looked over at Monica, truly exasperated. “Hey, Monica, can I throw this guy out? I’m gonna do it.”

“W-wait! Wait, don’t…”

Ray was the kingdom’s foremost expert on curses. Monica had a million questions for him regarding the cursed dragon incident, and she couldn’t afford to upset him. Unfortunately, however, she wasn’t the kind of person who could just force a smile and say “I love you.”

“Ummm, well… I’m not sure I’d use the word love, but, um, you’re my senior in the Seven Sages, so I, um, I do admire and respect you a loffph!”

She choked miserably at the end of her sentence, but her words seemed to have reached him.

“Admiration. Respect. Admiration. Respect…,” he muttered to himself, the edges of his lips slowly curling into a creepy smile. He looked ecstatic. “Oh, that’s good. Admiration… What an unusual feeling. Quite unusual… Heh. Respect… Heh. Heh-heh.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Can we please get to the point?” said Nero, quite fed up with Ray’s antics.

“All right,” Ray said easily, nodding. “First, show me where you were cursed.”

Monica rolled up her robe’s sleeve and showed him her left arm. While her upper arm was slender and pale, everything from her elbow down to her fingertips was swollen and covered with a dark-red bruise.

Ray narrowed his pink eyes. “This isn’t a naturally occurring curse,” he declared. “It’s cursecraft.”

Monica couldn’t tell the difference between natural and artificial curses, but it must have been obvious to an expert.

“You can tell that easily?” asked Nero, sounding fascinated.

“Yes. Cursecraft is more liable to leave traces. If there were even a fragment of the tool used as a medium left, the curse on it could last for a very long time.”

This rang true. Even after Monica had attacked the inside of the dragon’s body, the curse had stubbornly held on. Her flame magecraft must not have been enough to completely incinerate the shamanic tool.

“…You did a good job destroying the item. The curse is completely gone,” said Ray, sounding impressed.

Nero flashed him a smug grin. He’d been the one to destroy it, using his black flames.

“Ummm, will this bruise last for a while?” asked Monica.

“It should go away in two weeks or so, but the pain in your arm and the numbness might last about a month. As long as you get some rest, it will heal.”

Monica was relieved. If the bruise would go away in two weeks, it would be gone by the time she returned to Serendia for the new term. But her relief wasn’t complete, because Glenn was still unconscious.

“Ummm… What about Glenn? His symptoms were much worse than mine.”

Ray frowned and, with the gravity of someone making a terrible prophecy, said, “The Barrier Mage’s pupil, Glenn Dudley… I’d heard the rumors, but he… He…”

Had something happened to him? Monica paled and leaned forward.

Ray scratched his purple hair madly. “He’s tall and genuine, and it’s completely obvious that everyone loves him. Ugh, I hate it… Guys like him are always popular with girls. Everyone falls in love with guys like that… Agh, I’m green with envy… Curse him!”

“Ummm, Glenn is already cursed… And I’d like to know how he’s doing…”

“He woke up earlier. Right when I arrived.”

“Huh?” Monica said, her face blank.

Ray’s tone made it clear that he couldn’t care less about the other boy. “Glenn Dudley has a ridiculous natural mana capacity. He’s very resistant to curses, so you don’t need to worry about him… Ugh, I hate people like that. Chosen from birth… The envy…”

“What do you mean…his mana capacity is ridiculous?”

“This is off the record, but apparently, he’s been measured at over 250.”

“O-over 250?!”

Most normal mages had around 100 mana capacity. You needed 150 to be one of the Seven Sages, and Monica’s capacity was a little over 200. According to official records, only four people in the kingdom had mana capacities higher than 250. Two of them were Sages—the Artillery Mage and the fifth Witch of Thorns.

Come to think of it, Glenn broke the mana capacity gauge that day I visited the fundamental magecraft class.

The upper limit of the device Glenn had broken was 250. In other words, he’d had much more mana than the device could handle.

“…Glenn Dudley has so much mana,” said Ray, “that once, when he lost control, it caused a whole incident. No one else could handle him, so the Barrier Mage took him in. That’s what I heard.”

In general, your mana capacity grew the more you used magecraft. But if you started out with a massive amount, it was easy to cause horrific accidents.

And Glenn caused one in the past…

Losing control of one’s mana was really frightening. He could have easily developed a fear of using magecraft. What must he have felt like as he made that promise in front of the Alteria chimes? she wondered.

“I’m gonna work hard at my magecraft training!”

How difficult had it been to rally his resolve? Monica bit her lip and looked down.

“If you’re worried about him,” muttered Ray, “you don’t need to be. The guy has the thickest skin I’ve ever seen… He is the Barrier Mage’s apprentice, after all…”

“Gyaaaah! That hurts! Ahhh! It hurts more than my muscles did after Master made me train in the mountains!”

As Glenn writhed on the bed, Felix asked calmly, “You trained in the mountains? Do mages need to do that?”

“Yeah. He beat the crap out of me while sparring, then kicked me off a cliff and told me to get back up by myself… Wait. Actually, this isn’t so bad, since there’s a bed…”

Is any of that related to magecraft? As Felix began to doubt the usefulness of the Barrier Mage’s rather extreme training methods, he observed Glenn’s face.

He was still covered in dark-red bruises, but according to the Abyss Shaman, they would go away eventually. The pain would persist after that, but it would probably heal on its own in a month or so. This filled Felix with genuine relief.

He harbored quite a lot of guilt regarding what had happened to Glenn. The cursed dragon was no coincidence or stroke of bad luck—someone had done this on purpose. And the shaman behind the dragon’s curse probably had ties to Duke Clockford. Nobody would ever know that the whole incident had been set up to make Felix look good. He’d be known as the prince who’d slain a cursed dragon, and that would be that.

Meanwhile, Glenn had gotten mixed up in this ridiculous farce, and it had nearly killed him.

As Felix tried to think of what to say to him, Glenn—still lying on the bed—looked up at him with a gloomy expression.

“Hey, Prez… I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I was your escort. But I did a pretty bad job of it…”

It seemed that even this happy-go-lucky young man felt down sometimes.

Felix stifled a wry grin and looked at the door leading out into the hallway. “It’s nothing to be depressed about. You did an excellent job… And I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

Glenn watched blankly as Felix winked at him and quietly moved over to the door. Then, without a word, Felix threw it open.

“Eek!”

With a cute yelp, Eliane stumbled into the room.

She flailed around for a moment, then looked up at Felix and began making excuses. “Oh! I, well, I never intended to do something so vulgar as eavesdrop. I was just, well…resting against the door for a moment! That’s all.” She was speaking much more quickly than usual.

Felix covered his mouth with a hand and chuckled. “And you just so happened to choose the door to the room Dudley’s recuperating in?”

“Oh, well,” she stammered. “I happened to see you, Lord Felix, and thought I’d say hello… Yes, that’s all it was.” She fidgeted with her skirt for no reason, then looked at Glenn. “G-good day, Lord Glenn… Ummm… How are you feeling?”

Glenn’s face held no traces of pain—only its usual cheerfulness. He gave her a toothy, energetic grin. “I’m all better! And hungry, too. I could go for some meat.”

Eliane looked surprised. Then she sighed in relief.

Within moments, however, she put on an exasperated expression and lifted her chin in annoyance. “Meat? For a patient? That would never be allowed.”

“But I can’t get going without meat!”

“Whatever shall we do with you?!” said Eliane, turning away from the bed and stalking off.

She exited the room, but just before the door closed, they heard her shout, “Leston! Leston, prepare some meat! The best cuts we have. And cook it so that it’s soft and easy to eat!”

Felix raised his eyebrows and smiled, then looked over at the bed. Glenn was groaning in pain. Felix doubted he’d heard any of what Eliane had said.

“You’re every bit a gentleman, Dudley.”

Glenn fell limp onto the bed and pursed his lips. “I can’t worry a little kid like her…”

Apparently, Eliane was a little kid to him—no different from a child playing on the street. Felix barely suppressed a fit of laughter. As he covered his mouth, he thought, I wonder if Lady Everett and the Abyss Shaman are finished talking yet.

Ray sighed. “Must be nice… Must be nice to be such a popular guy… Everyone thinks shamans are creepy, and they all say mean things about us behind our backs…”

Ray had driven the conversation further and further off track, and now he was just complaining nonstop.

As Monica sat on the couch, unsure of what to do, Nero made a gesture asking her if he could throw the other boy out. Monica shook her head.

“Every year, when the New Year’s ceremony rolls around, I just want to die… Everyone will be celebrating, wondering why some nasty shaman is there. I mean, that’s what I would think. Mages are so cool and smart, and they get all the attention. Meanwhile, everyone calls shamans gross and creepy… I want to be respected and fawned over and loved, like mages are…” Ray covered his face with his hands.

“Don’t worry,” Nero said, his tone merciless. “I guarantee you’d be just as gloomy and creepy and gross even if you weren’t a shaman.”

Monica hastily tugged on Nero’s robe and scraped together what little vocabulary she had at her disposal. “Ummm, well, I think being a shaman is a wonderful job. It’s not, um, gross at all.”

Ray peeked at her through his fingers. “They call my hair and eye color gross, too… It’s not like I wanted these weird features… If I had my way, I’d be a beautiful, tall boy with blond hair and blue eyes, like a prince…”

Those are some pretty greedy requests, thought Monica.

Ray’s brilliant hair and eye color weren’t natural, nor were they something he’d chosen. They were the result of the over two hundred curses engraved in his body. The idea was similar to mana poisoning, which occurred when a person’s body absorbed a large amount of mana. Things like mana and curses were poisonous to humans, and too much exposure brought about changes in the body.

“Um, well, I think your purple hair is really pretty,” said Monica, choosing her words carefully. “Purple is a noble color, so…”

Ray looked up ever so slowly. His pink eyes, as brilliant as gemstones, shone with an eerie light as they gazed at her.

“A-and there are plenty of things that, um, only shamans can do.”

At that point, Monica straightened up in her seat and faced Ray as one of the Seven Sages. There was something she needed to ask him about the incident with the cursed dragon.

“I’d like to ask you something as the Abyss Shaman… Is it possible for a human to use cursecraft to curse a dragon?”

“No.” Ray’s reply was immediate. “Dragons have incredible resistance to mana. Younger dragons are one thing, but a human would never be able to curse an adult.”

Monica recalled the memory she’d seen as the curse ate painfully away at her. The shaman’s curse had killed the green dragon’s child, and she’d then eaten her child’s cursed body in order to exact revenge on the culprit.

“Then… What if a dragon caused itself to be cursed…?”

Ray fell silent for a moment and thought this over. His purple eyelashes lowered, casting a shadow over his vivid irises. “I couldn’t say. It’s never happened before. There are still many mysteries when it comes to the physiology of greater dragons… Was that what happened here?”

“If the traces on my arm aren’t from a naturally occurring curse but from something made by a person…then yes.”

Ray grimaced. It seemed he’d thought of a possible connection. “Could it be…the man who betrayed House Albright?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Monica.

This was something Ray had mentioned before, back when that cursed tool had gotten lost on campus during Serendia Academy’s festival. Apparently, ten years ago, a shaman had betrayed House Albright and escaped with a cursed tool.

Ray scratched his purple hair with both hands. “…This is awful.”

If this incident was the doing of a shaman, it would mean that shamans could drive dragons berserk with cursecraft. And if the culprit was the same shaman who had betrayed House Albright, then this was a matter of life and death for Ray, the house’s current head.

“What kind of person, um, was the shaman who betrayed your family?” asked Monica.

Ray groaned, head in his hands. “At the time, he went by the name Barry Oats. Black hair. Muscular but not tall… He’d be about fifty now. He could have changed his name to anything, and after ten years, he probably looks very different.”

Barry Oats began as an outsider but married into the family. A few years after his marriage, his wife died, leaving no children behind.

“I didn’t talk to him much… But yeah, he seemed like a nice, kindhearted guy.” Ray buried his pale face in his hands, then curled his wan lips into a self-deprecating smile. “…But of course, there’s no way a shaman would be nice and kindhearted.”

A shudder ran up Monica’s spine. She didn’t know what burdens Ray carried as the young head of a shaman family, but she suspected it was no walk in the park.

In her lap, Monica clenched her right fist, which she could still move freely. Then she made a proposition to Ray, her voice hard. “Abyss Shaman, will you investigate this matter? And, um, keep it a secret from the others?”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes! Um, and I’ll help, too, so…!”

Monica had her own reasons for keeping the matter secret.

…I’m not certain, but I think the prince knows something about what’s going on.

When Monica had found Felix and the cursed dragon, the prince had confidently declared that the dragon’s curse was due to cursecraft. It was likely he had information she didn’t. It was also suspicious that he’d snuck out at night to confront the dragon alone. It would have made more sense for him to ask someone else from the estate, or his escort, Monica, to come along.

Felix was clearly hiding something. She needed to talk to him.

As she made up her mind, someone grasped Monica’s hand. It was Ray, of course. He’d gotten up from the sofa at some point, and his pale cheeks were flushed a rosy red.

“U-ummm, Abyss Shaman…?”

“I had no idea you were so concerned about me…”

From Ray’s point of view, Monica’s suggestion must have seemed like an attempt to protect his reputation as a shaman. His eyes were full of emotion, and a little moist.

“Does this mean my love is requited? It must be mutual affection. How amazing. Someone loves me…”

“Um, I, uh…” Monica got the feeling the conversation was about to head in a terrifying direction. Desperately, she tried to force it back on course. “A-anyway, we’ll investigate the matter of the cursed dragon in secret…”

“A secret for just the two of us… A secret relationship… How wonderful… Sharing secrets deepens love… Heh.”

“Hey, I’m in on this secret,” Nero said in exasperation. He’d been lounging on the bed, bored by the long conversation. “Does that mean our love will deepen, too?”

Just then, there was a reserved knock. Was it Bartholomeus?

Nero got out of bed and opened the door. “Hey, Lackey,” he said, annoyed. “I told you to keep everyone away!”

“I’m real sorry, Boss. But Prince Felix says he needs to speak with the Silent Witch…”

Monica tensed. The time had come.

First, I have to make sure he keeps the truth about Nero a secret… And then I need to find out what he’s hiding.

Having Ray here would make things too difficult. Monica made sure her veil was firmly attached, then said, “Abyss Shaman… Would you excuse me…while I have a short conversation with the p-prince?”

“Heh.” Ray smiled sadly and looked at his feet. “I knew it. All girls love princes… And he is a blond-haired, blue-eyed dreamboat—the most attractive of the three royal siblings. Of course he’s loved…”

“No, um, it’s about something very important—”

“Royalty doesn’t play fair. They’re loved just for existing… I want to be loved unconditionally, too. I want it so bad…”

Without a word, Nero grabbed the scruff of Ray’s neck and threw the door open. Beyond it were Bartholomeus and Felix. “Move,” he said, pushing past them and tossing Ray into the hallway. He had no respect for either Felix or Ray. “Okay, I just took out the trash. You can come in, Prince.”

“…Thank you.”

After casting a sidelong glance at the ejected Ray, Felix stepped into the room. Once he was inside, Nero quickly shut the door and locked it.

Monica got out a feather pen and paper and wrote, “Thank you for coming.” She showed it to Felix, then bowed before adding, “We should talk.”

“With pleasure, my lady.” Felix flashed Monica a sweet smile and took the seat across from her.

In the face of his beautiful, opaque expression, Monica’s fingers grew cold.

She needed to confront him at the negotiating table—a place well outside her comfort zone.