The Ash Witch (2)
“A paladin! Kill her!”
Someone shouted, and the dark sorcerers charged forward.
A young woman’s eyes glowed with a sinister red light, and an old apothecary sprouted fur and howled like a beast as he lunged.
“Rukarem— Orb!”
“Othudoksa— Basak!”
Invisible forces raced across the dirt floor of the basement, and a green bolt of lightning shot from the palm of a shaggy-haired sorcerer.
At the end of their assault, Lucia threw off her robe.
Beneath the armor embroidered with the emblem of the Paladin Order, her skin glowed with the light of holy tattoos.
Swoosh—
The moment her white blade was enveloped in divine light from hilt to tip.
Flash—
Her form shot forward.
Slash, slash, slash!
In a brief instant, dozens of arcs were drawn.
The old man, now a beast, was slashed to pieces and fell to the ground.
The woman with red eyes, wielding a whip, spurted crimson fountains from holes in her neck and heart.
Lucia deflected the invisible force with her shield and struck down the green lightning with the tip of her sword, imbued with holy power.
The two dark sorcerers couldn’t even utter their next incantation as she charged at them.
“A monster!”
“Spare us! Run!”
The dark sorcerers in the wide room fell helplessly, one after another.
Watching the massacre, Dalen felt no guilt.
Though some might confuse them with wizards due to their use of spells and titles, dark sorcerers were entirely different beings in this world.
‘In truth, dark sorcerers are more akin to cultists than wizards.’
Unlike wizards who belong to the Mage Tower and learn spells passed down through generations, dark sorcerers gain their power by making deals with demons.
Considering that demons never make deals without human sacrifices, it was obvious what price they paid for their power.
There was a reason these dark sorcerers hid in the shadows, like illegal drug dealers or human traffickers.
The dark sorcerers who formed a small community here were no different.
Their incantations invoking the names of demons and their superhuman abilities gained through twisted bodies were rewards from their demonic pacts.
There was no need for guilt in slaughtering such filth.
“Aaaargh!”
Dark sorcerers fell like autumn leaves before Lucia’s sword.
In no time, the wide room was filled with the bodies of dark sorcerers.
All that remained were a bald man sitting on a mat and a wild-haired woman stirring a cauldron.
As Lucia shook the blood from her sword and moved toward them, it happened.
Thunk!
“Gah…!”
The wild-haired woman’s dagger pierced the bald man’s chest from behind.
“You, you…!”
The bald sorcerer turned his head, eyes wide, trying to speak to the woman who had been his ally moments ago.
The wild-haired woman twisted the dagger mercilessly and pulled it out, as if his muttering was beneath her.
“Ugh!”
The sorcerer’s body collapsed, blood pouring from the wound.
Sizzle—
Dark energy writhed and formed from the pierced chest.
The ominous power, taking a distinct shape, quickly consumed the bald man’s body.
“Heh heh heh. Don’t lump me in with these pathetic fools.”
The wild-haired woman laughed eerily, raising her dagger and clasping it with both hands as if in prayer.
Having sacrificed her former ally, she raised the dagger high and shouted.
“Kalkas— Se Glam!”
Crack!
The air shattered like glass.
Ominous energy swirled, seeping through the distortion.
The wild-haired woman wasn’t wrong.
The path of dark sorcery offered great power easily, attracting countless dabblers.
The difference between such dabblers and a true dark sorcerer was whether they could open even a fragment of the Hell Gate.
Though it was a tiny fragment, the sacrifice required to open it was just one life.
That alone proved that among the dark sorcerers gathered here, none could match her skill.
Sss…
From the rift in the fractured space emerged chains of blue light.
The chains, surrounded by a chilling aura, slowly surveyed their surroundings like living snakes.
“Chains of Kalkas! Bind the paladin!”
The wild-haired woman shouted.
Dalen instinctively reached for his waist but refrained from drawing his axe.
Though he could have planted an axe in the sorcerer’s head, he held back because of Lucia.
‘What Lucia Castachild lacks most right now is real combat experience.’
Lucia Castachild.
The future hero known as the Demon Slayer.
Even as a novice knight, she was so talented that she was appointed as an inquisitor.
And through countless battles in the labyrinth, her swordsmanship and abilities were growing remarkably.
Intervening now would be a mistake in the long run.
For Lucia Castachild to become the Demon Slayer, she needed more experiences of overcoming challenges on her own.
“I thought they were just some rookies dabbling in dark magic, but they can summon demons?”
And the novice knight did not disappoint Dalen’s expectations.
“This one’s a real piece of work, isn’t she?”
Fwoosh!
The divine power on Lucia’s sword flared into flames.
The light from her holy tattoos dimmed to a gentle glow, and the sword, burning with white flames, rested diagonally on her angular shield.
“Don’t think you’ll die easily.”
The holy tattoos around her eyes shone brightly.
The stone floor beneath her feet cracked with a sharp sound.
Screeeech—!
As the blue chains reached her, only a faint afterimage remained where she had stood.
Clang!
The chains, exuding the chill of hell, were severed with a loud crash and fell to the ground.
“How… how could you cut the chains from Kalkas’s Throne…?”
The wild-haired woman couldn’t finish her sentence.
She clutched her chest, split wide open.
Lucia, having shot forward like an arrow, had slashed her chest with her flame-imbued sword as she passed by.
A wound that exposed ribs and the organs within.
The white flames burning along the scar delved inside, consuming the victim from within.
“Aaaah!”
The scream echoed through the wide basement. The white fire soon spread across the dark sorcerer’s entire body.
The white flames of judgment, used to punish vile cultists, dark sorcerers, or traitors to the Order.
The flames that promised searing pain until death were one reason dark sorcerers feared and hated paladins.
After several minutes passed.
Crackle…
The wild-haired dark sorcerer turned to black ash, leaving no trace behind.
With the sorcerer’s death, the connection to this world vanished, and the Hell Gate disappeared. The blue chains evaporated into a wisp of dust.
“Phew.”
Lucia let out a deep breath. She turned to Dalen with a relieved expression.
Dalen finally lowered his hand from the axe head. He spoke.
“Your swordsmanship has improved.”
Lucia smiled silently.
Hans Zingler, a dark sorcerer of Revivach, had a splitting headache.
It felt like he had downed a bottle of strong liquor the night before and passed out in the cold wind of the red-light district until morning.
“Even divine power can’t heal… the demonic energy inside…”
”…No need. Anyway…”
Voices reached his ears.
A woman’s melodious voice and a man’s deep, gruff tone.
Hans rubbed his bleary eyes and opened his mouth. His entire mouth throbbed with a strange emptiness.
“Ugh, mu, mur zom…”
“Just in time. Open wide, you bastard.”
“Ugh…!”
A bottle’s neck was roughly shoved into his mouth. A burning pain accompanied the liquid that poured in.
Hans’s eyes snapped open. He realized why his mouth felt empty.
The giant he had thought was an easy mark had punched him, breaking his mouth and knocking out all his teeth.
And the liquid just poured into his mouth smelled like the cheap healing potion the old man next door brewed every day.
“Aaaaargh!”
The dark sorcerer screamed as if the basement would collapse. Dalen shrugged at the sight.
“See? Works like a charm.”
”…What if it wasn’t a healing potion?”
“Then he’d be dead. So what? Consider it one less dark sorcerer to deal with.”
Lucia looked incredulous. Dalen chuckled lowly.
Of course, the last part was a lie.
He knew exactly which shelf held the healing potion in the old man’s apothecary and what the bottle looked like.
But explaining all that would just make the story longer. Sometimes, it was easier to gloss over the details.
“Ughhh…”
The dark sorcerer, who had just healed his torn mouth, trembled as he spoke.
Even after having his jaw shattered and healed, his teeth remained crooked. It seemed potions couldn’t fix that.
“Are you, by any chance, from the Holy Knights?”
The sorcerer glanced nervously at the armor of the dead comrades and Lucia. His tone was much more respectful than before.
Dalen shook his head.
“Then why are you here…?”
“I’m here to see the witch.”
The sorcerer’s face turned pale. He stammered.
“Sh-she’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s in the Revivach Forest. You know, the one famous for its herbs.”
“A forest, huh. So she’s settled there.”
Dalen stroked his chin. He had half-expected her to be in the forest.
The time when mandrakes were discovered in abundance and merchants flocked was when she was likely advancing her dealings with the dark god.
By now, she was probably near the dark god’s altar in the heart of the forest, continuing her negotiations with regular human sacrifices.
Dalen crouched in front of the sorcerer. He asked, “How long has it been since the witch last left the forest?”
“About two weeks.”
“So you’ve been supplying the sacrifices in the meantime.”
The sorcerer’s lips quivered, his eyes filled with pure fear.
He had only learned that the old woman was a witch less than a month ago.
How much did these people know? Who were this barbarian and the holy knight?
Questions swirled in his mind, compounded by the sight of his dead comrades and the throbbing pain in his mouth.
“How do you supply the sacrifices?”
But as he met the barbarian’s cold, emotionless eyes, those questions vanished.
‘Answer correctly, or die.’
It was a long-forgotten will to survive that made the sorcerer speak.
“Not just us, but several communities take turns bringing live sacrifices daily. We drug them or lure them with money. If they’re mercenaries, we disguise it as a protection job and lead them deep into the forest.”
“There must be a barrier set by the witch.”
“She gave us a token. It’s like a totem. If you follow the designated path with it, you won’t be attacked by the spells in the forest. But if you stray from the path or lose the token, you’ll be torn apart by the spells. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“I see.”
Dalen stood up, resting his hand on the axe at his waist.
“I’ll give you a chance to live. Lead us into the forest, disguised as sacrifices.”
Coincidentally, the sorcerer’s turn to deliver sacrifices was the next day.
Dalen and Lucia kept him under watch for a day, then set off for the Revivach Forest with him the following night.
As late winter approached, the southern regions were already experiencing milder night air.
The snow from the previous night had melted quickly, turning the forest entrance into a muddy swamp.
Soft earth and decaying leaves crumbled underfoot, and their leather boots were soon caked with mud up to the ankles.
After walking for about an hour into the forest, the sorcerer stopped. He turned to them and said, “We’re about to enter the witch’s spell zone. Be careful not to lose the totem I gave you.”
The sorcerer looked confused. He was likely unsure of what he was doing anymore.
Just months ago, he was a petty dark sorcerer swindling people in a small town.
Suddenly, he became the witch’s pawn, delivering more sacrifices in a month than he’d ever killed in his life.
And now, he was leading a barbarian and a holy knight, who intended to kill the witch, into her lair.
“Why are you hesitating?”
“Oh, it’s just…”
Dalen had no sympathy for a dark sorcerer who offered people as sacrifices.
He tapped the sorcerer’s shoulder lightly.
“Lead the way.”
“Alright.”
The sorcerer sighed deeply and started walking again, with Dalen and Lucia following.
Soon, the surroundings began to change.
The Revivach Forest wasn’t known for being densely wooded.
On a bright night like this, moonlight should have filtered through the leaves even deep inside the forest.
But at some point, the moon and stars disappeared from the night sky.
Instead, a murky, ash-colored gloom filled the air.
Recalling the smog-filled skies of Seoul, Dalen paused as he felt a vibration.
Lucia, following behind, tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”
Dalen reached behind him. Strapped to his back was a holy sword, wrapped in cloth and bound with chains.
A holy sword that had lost its divine power to a demon.
The sword was faintly vibrating.
“The holy sword is trembling.”