Witch Taming System-Chapter 57: Crimson Witch [3]

A sacrifice to the Death God.

Dua Evangelist had sought refuge in Mount Kratoa, a place where it was said that, in the distant past, the Gods had vanquished an Outer God and sealed it beneath that very mountain.

That legend alone was part of the reason witches had turned this place into a dumping ground. There was no greater insult to an enemy than to bury them beneath waste.

Of course, no one truly knew if the story was real. Witches acknowledged the existence of Outer Gods, but whether there were any benevolent Gods that were on their side was uncertain.

Nevertheless, Dua believed in it.

And that belief was what drove her.

After successfully sneaking into Riviere, she isolated herself in Mount Kratoa for months, preparing and acting in silence.

It hadn’t been easy. For one hundred years, Dua had carefully planned her way back into Riviere. It wasn’t a place anyone could simply enter, especially not someone already exiled like her.

According to the previous Witch of Death, the one who had taken her in as a disciple and the one she had inherited everything from, there were several key sacrifices required to resurrect the Death God.

One of them was obvious.

Mana.

Not just any mana, but mana from a witch who practiced the arts of Death.

But that alone wasn’t enough. There needed to be accumulation and quantity that bordered on excess, enough to saturate the ritual itself, to the point where the boundary between life and death would begin to blur, even if only for a moment.

There were also catalysts.

Living sacrifices.

Beings that still held life, stripped of it at the exact moment required.

And then, there was the vessel.

Something, or someone, capable of enduring it. A form that wouldn’t immediately break the moment the Death God returned.

Dua had originally intended for that role to be fulfilled by the very witch who had forced her into exile, Cyrene, the self-proclaimed Grand Witch.

But now, her thoughts had changed.

There was something better standing right in front of her.

According to the legends, the Death God had been male, and right before Dua was a man capable of casting magic, with a body sturdy enough to make her bleed from a single strike, something that should not have existed in the first place.

A contradiction, an anomaly, something that went against everything she had known.

The perfect vessel.

"Where do you think you’re going?!"

Dua smiled, her gaze fixed on him despite posing the question.

A strange sense of excitement stirred within her at the thought of breaking him down and reshaping him into something that could serve her purpose.

The idea alone was enough to make her body transition into a sense of arousal as crimson mana began to seep out from her.

The mana thickened, condensing into form as red ribbons manifested behind her, writhing before surging toward Lancel.

"Fuck..."

Lancel had always been confident in his speed.

But now, with Fiore behind him, he couldn’t just dodge freely. If he moved carelessly, those ribbons would go straight for her instead. Worse, with how insane this bitch was, he was certain she wouldn’t hesitate to use Fiore as a hostage.

That alone was enough to hold him back.

It was strange.

Lancel still felt like he hated witches. That hadn’t changed. But at the same time, something that didn’t line up with that thought was surfacing. His mind couldn’t keep up with it, yet his body had already decided, moving on instinct to keep Fiore safe.

Maybe it was because she was beautiful.

Maybe it was because she had treated him well.

Or maybe it was because, for the first time in a long while, he had met someone who felt... normal.

Truthfully, Lancel had always carried a prejudice toward witches. To him, they were all eccentric.

Naturally, Fiore wasn’t an exception. There was still that sense of eccentricity in her, but beyond that, she was as close to normal as anyone could get, despite being a witch.

Faust was the same.

But then again, Faust had given him a handjob once with no hesitation.

So in Lancel’s mind, there had to be some kind of crazy in that woman too.

———!

At that moment, his instincts took over as he gathered mana into his dagger and began cutting through the ribbons. They were fast, numerous, and moved like serpents. But Lancel had dealt with something like this before.

"Ukh...!"

Even so, it was too much.

The pressure kept building, and cuts began to spread across his body as he forced himself to keep up, staying on the defensive while refusing to give ground.

He didn’t need much.

Just one opening.

One was enough to grab Fiore and run.

"What’s your name, boy?"

But Lancel didn’t respond. How could he? She didn’t stop her attacks either. The ribbons kept aiming and striking at him as if they were extensions of her own body.

"Not answering?"

Slash! Slash! Slash!

"That’s a shame. My little pet wanted to know."

’Little pet?’

Slash——!

Too focused on the ribbons, Lancel failed to notice it. The Death Knight was still alive, cutting into him without him noticing.

"Haaaakh...!"

Lancel bit down, suppressing the pain from the cut, but as he fell and rolled across the ground, he noticed it.

"...."

His arm had been cut off.

"Aaaaaaah....!"

Lancel screamed, his voice tearing out of him as blood continued to pour from the severed limb like a fountain, refusing to stop no matter how much he tried to move.

"My arm! My arm! My arm...! My arm...!"

The pain was so overwhelming, it felt like his entire body was being ripped apart from that single point, like every nerve had been exposed and set on fire at the same time, sending waves of agony that made it hard to even think, let alone move.

His vision shook, and his breathing broke as he found himself unable to process it. Never in his life had he felt pain like this before.

"Hahahahaha~!"

Dua laughed as she watched him with amusement, as if what she was seeing was nothing more than entertainment.

"I’ll kill you, you bitch! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you—Haaakh!"

Lancel bit down hard, his teeth grinding as he stayed on the ground like a cornered animal. Even then, even through the pain, something burned in his eyes.

Rage.

A rage that refused to go out no matter how much his body screamed at him to stop.

Truthfully, there was still that.

A spell he had been avoiding this entire time.

The reason was simple. Anything tied to that contract didn’t feel right. It felt wrong to even consider using it, like the cost wouldn’t just be mana, but something else would be taken from him entirely.

It was basic human instinct, like avoiding the pandora’s box.

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[Bond Level : 999]

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But right now, there was no room to hesitate.

Not when he was already at the edge.

Lancel frowned as much as he could, forcing his thoughts together through the pain, forcing himself to stay conscious long enough to act.

"Nyarlathotep."

At that moment...

———!

Everything went dark.