Chapter 200: The Lonely Witch

“Junior.”

Muen heard a soft call.

He turned his head instinctively—

And in the cramped, shadowed little room, it felt as if the world suddenly lit up.

Anna had changed into a purple knee-length dress. The waistline sat high, the collar rose to her neck, and a slim black belt cinched lightly around her, making her waist look as narrow as a single arm’s span—and making the swell of her chest all the more striking, grand and full.

The skirt swayed in layered, petal-like folds, revealing long, smooth, rounded thighs wrapped in glossy black stockings peeking from beneath the hem, like the heart of a flower, carrying a quiet, dangerous allure.

“Does it look good?”

Anna gave the skirt a light flick—like a flower blooming in an instant.

Her face was touched with faint makeup, her long hair falling in its usual tilt across her chest. Every glance and smile seemed to pull the soul straight out of him.

“It looks great. Really.”

Muen nodded like a pecking bird. This wasn’t flattery—he genuinely thought that with even a little dressing up, his senior was even more stunning than before.

He was absolutely dazed.

“I’m glad my junior likes it.”

Anna smiled in satisfaction. It wasn’t for nothing—this was the first time she had dressed herself so seriously.

It was also the first time she’d felt nervous before meeting someone.

“Hmph.”

From somewhere in the shop came a third person’s voice—a cold, ill-timed snort.

Anna glanced sideways. The old man was still lying in his rocking chair, eyes closed as if deep in sleep.

She walked over and set a small potion bottle beside him.

“Made just for you. When your joints ache again, put on two drops—it should help.”

“...”

“And stop sleeping in places like this. The days are getting colder.”

“...”

“In the winter, close the shop. I pooled money for a little house for you in the west of the city—warm in winter, cool in summer. Better than staying here.”

“...”

“And... please keep an eye on the orphanage for me.”

“...”

“Sorry. This might be the last time I come back.”

In the quiet shop, it was all Anna’s voice—speaking to herself.

From start to finish, the old man said nothing.

Anna didn’t get angry; perhaps she had already guessed this would be his reaction.

Leaving the potion and the key beside him, she lowered her gaze to hide her emotions, and took Muen away from the shop.

Ding-dong.

The breeze stirred the wind chime, a clear, bright sound—only making the little shop’s loneliness sharper.

The old man finally opened his eyes. Raising a hand thin and dry like a branch, he picked up the potion and examined it closely.

“How foolish. Isn’t your potion-making something I taught you?”

He uncorked the bottle and gave it a gentle sniff—

And for the first time, a clear shift appeared on that weathered face.

“I see... so your skill in potions... has already surpassed this old fool?”

...

...

“That was...”

Walking side by side with her in the empty streets, Muen couldn’t help asking.

“You could say he’s my foster father.” Anna brushed away a wind-blown strand of hair.

“Foster father?”

“I told you before, right? I grew up in an orphanage.”

Anna lifted her gaze, looking past the thin clouds at the distant light.

“In the orphanage, once you turned eleven, you had to leave and live on your own.”

“Eleven?”

Muen was stunned. “That’s way too young. What can you even do at eleven?”

“Not too young. In the Lower City, eleven is already an age you can survive alone.”

She said it lightly, but the truth in it was brutal.

Muen fell silent.

He suddenly remembered—this wasn’t his old world, where production was high enough to feed everyone, and no peaceful nation would send eleven-year-olds into society.

Here, there might be powerful magic, advanced alchemy, and great divine beings, but at the bottom, it was still backward.

In the Lower City, many still went hungry every day.

“The orphanage had no choice. To help more people, they had to do it that way. Still, those years there were my easiest, happiest, most carefree time. I’m grateful for it.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, tilted her head, and said in mock warning:

“Junior, don’t you dare speak badly of the orphanage.”

“How could I? I should be grateful it raised someone as beautiful as Senior.”

“You’re still such a smooth talker.”

Her eyes glinted, and she went on:

“But compared to the others, I was lucky. The year I left the orphanage, he took me in.”

“That old man?”

“Mhm. A strange, secretive old man—never told me his name or who he was. That shop of his only ever had a handful of certain customers, and he didn’t care. Every time I went back, he was the same, lying in that rocking chair, napping as if he could never get enough sleep.

Even now, I don’t know what to call him.”

“He seemed to care a lot about you,” Muen said.

“Maybe.” She paused and nodded lightly. “He’s bad-tempered, but I have to admit—everything I know, potions, magic, how to survive in this world—it all came from him. Without him, there’d be no me now.”

Anna glanced back toward the end of the street.

There, where the little shop sat under the drifting yellow leaves, it stood as always, quiet and enduring, as if it would forever keep its door open for her return—just like every time before.

“That stubborn old man... he’ll never agree to move into the new place.”

Muen’s eyes flickered.

“Senior.”

“Mhm?”

“We’ll come back again. Definitely.”

“...Mhm.”

...

...

Out of that secluded street, Muen’s view opened wide.

A broad river cut through green fields, meeting two others not far away. The three merged into a vast, sea-like expanse, then, shimmering with pale light, wound away toward the horizon.

Belrand wasn’t coastal, but three great rivers ran through it. Aside from the famous Gulaine, there were the Yaz and the Groye, each with their own beauty.

Along the riverbanks, abandoned buildings hid among the green and gold. Anna and Muen strolled slowly forward.

“This place is...”

He still couldn’t help asking. Though she was leading this “date” to win him over, the location felt so unfamiliar.

“This is somewhere I came often as a child.”

Anna’s fingers brushed along vine-covered walls and statues as they passed, her eyes tinged with nostalgia.

“I don’t have much experience dating. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to do. And I can’t exactly appear in public right now, so... we can only come somewhere like this.”

She looked back apologetically. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not.”

Muen smiled.

“As long as Senior’s here, anywhere is fine.”

“...You little...”

She gave him a mock glare.

“Am I supposed to be winning you over, or are you winning me over, you little scoundrel?”

“Of course you are.”

He grinned. “Tell me about your past.”

“My past? There’s nothing worth hearing.”

“It’s to understand each other better—part of a date, right?”

“Then shouldn’t you go first?”

“My past?”

He scratched his head awkwardly.

“You’ll get mad if you hear it.”

After all, the old Muen Campbell hadn’t done many good things.

“...Junior.”

“Mhm?”

“May I kick you?”

“Eh? Ah—Black stockings, amazing—no, ow!”

“...You really are a pervert.”

She drew back her stocking-clad leg with a sigh, then held out her hand.

“Mhm?”

Still rubbing his calf, he looked at her pale hand in confusion.

“The road ahead isn’t easy. And...”

She tucked a loose lock behind her ear, her face tinted with pink.

“I read in a book that people hold hands on dates.”

“...Holding hands.”

Muen swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, heart pounding harder.

He never thought she’d suggest it first.

Was this another trick?

He studied the hand, half-wondering if it hid some shock mechanism that’d turn his hair into a frizzed mess and leave her laughing—

“What, you don’t want to?”

“I do! Of course I do!”

He took it without hesitation now.

Even if it was a trick, he’d take it. He’d probably never be able to resist her teasing anyway.

But it wasn’t a trick. He was really holding her hand.

Her hand was smaller and softer than he’d imagined, delicate and boneless, fitting perfectly in his palm—though a little cool.

“Let’s go.”

She turned back quickly, her shyness rare, and led him onward.

Ahead was a mountain path.

The rough stairs wound up the steep slope, leading toward a peak where sharp rooftops peeked from the greenery.

The climb was unsteady—not because of the path, but because of something else.

...

“I used to be a wild girl, always running around in deserted, eerie places like this.”

“Really? You don’t seem like it now.”

“Everyone’s different from who they used to be.”

Anna lifted her eyes toward birds bursting from the treetops.

They might be the last flock here. Soon they’d fly south for the °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° winter, and in spring, return again.

Would she still be here to see them?

“I found this place by accident—an abandoned village. They’re common around Belrand; people move into the city, and the villages empty out. Back then, I’d wander through the vine-covered buildings, imagining each was a castle, and I was a witch studying black magic inside.”

“Not a princess?”

She shook her head.

“Princesses just wait for a prince to save them. If the prince doesn’t come, they’re done for.”

Muen blinked.

“But witches are different. Witches don’t need saving—they fight with their knowledge and dark magic, struggle with everything they have. And even if they lose, they can at least curse fate before they die.”

They reached the top.

An abandoned chapel stood there, half-collapsed from years of wind and rain. But before it still stood a statue of the Goddess of Life, Emiel—hands extended, gazing down in pity at all beings.

“Let’s go up.”

“Eh? Up? That’s the goddess’s statue—”

Before he could finish, Anna leapt lightly, toeing the folds of the statue’s robes and settling elegantly in the goddess’s open palm.

Muen’s eyes went wide—not just at the audacity, but because from here...

Through black stockings and skirt, the “sacred realm” was dangerously near sight—

“Junior...”

She pressed down her skirt and gave him a mock-scolding smile.

“Come up.”

“...Coming.”

He wasn’t a Life Church believer, so he had no qualms. Copying her, he landed in the palm.

It was surprisingly comfortable—just the right size, and sloped so slightly inward that before long they were leaning together, shoulder to shoulder.

Close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

From here, he saw that the statue faced a sheer cliff. Below was the confluence of the three rivers, and beyond—

But before he could look further, she pressed his head down.

“Not yet. Look there.”

He followed her gaze.

Below, a fisherman was hauling in his nets, clearly pleased—Muen could see even from here the fat, heavy fish he’d pulled from the water.

“Do you like fish, Senior?”

“I used to.”

“Used to?”

“Orphanage life was poor—we only had meat once or twice a month. But I was good at swimming, so whenever I snuck out early in the morning before sunrise, I’d come here to catch fish.

The orphanage was strict, so I’d play here until I was hungry, catch fish to eat, then sell extra fish at the market for money to buy books. Sometimes I’d lose track of time, sneak back late with candies for the others—and get thoroughly scolded by the matron.”

Listening to her vividly describe how fierce the matron was, Muen couldn’t help laughing.

“You were that naughty?”

“I still am.” She winked playfully. “Haven’t you noticed?”

He felt another jolt in his chest.

“After that, at eleven, I left the orphanage, was taken in by the old man, learned potions and magic under his strict hand, learned fast enough to study on my own... A few years later, I entered the Academy, founded the Ancient Potion Society for research—and finally... met you.

That’s my whole life story. Boring, isn’t it?”

She tilted her head, gazing at him with plain words for a plain life.

He met her eyes, feeling a pang.

“Senior.”

“Mhm?”

“Were you always alone?”

“...?”

He lifted a hand to her cheek, watching her eyes to be sure she didn’t reject the touch, then stroked gently.

“In your story—from the orphanage, to being taken in, to the Academy—aside from necessary dealings or collecting medicine ingredients... it’s like there was never anyone else. No friends, no family. Were you always alone?”

She paused, then nuzzled into his palm with a light smile.

“You know, Junior... I don’t know when I might turn into a monster. Getting too close to people... would only bring them misfortune.”

Muen’s breath caught, pain twisting hard in his chest.

He remembered their first meeting in the potion lab, how she’d stood alone by the window, so solitary.

“Then why did you keep coming to me?”

“At first, because I’d heard you were a famous playboy and thought I could get materials from you or your companions. But later...” She frowned faintly, looking into the distance.

“...Later I don’t know why. I just feel... it’s hard to separate from you.”

“That’s—”

Before he could finish, she pressed a finger to his lips.

“Not yet. Now you can look.” Her eyes glittered with a strange light.

Only then did Muen realize she’d been keeping him from looking up.

With a trace of curiosity, he turned his head—

And saw a giant sunset.

Scarlet light surged like a tide, flooding the world. The sun’s warm glow touched the vast waters below, turning them into shimmering silk. The waves carried it gently, broken into fleeting silhouettes by passing sails and the sound of distant horns.

Minutes ago, it had been an ordinary sun. Now, it was as if the most wondrous magic in the world had set it aflame, painting the green hills and clear waters in vivid strokes—so beautiful it stole the breath.

“This is...”

He was transfixed.

Not even in Muen Campbell’s memories had this world ever looked so... heart-stopping.

“As you said—you’ve seen my first half of life. It was dull. I don’t know what makes the perfect date. I don’t know what love is supposed to be, or how to win someone’s heart.

I can’t give you jewels or gifts like you can.

So—”

She hugged her knees, resting her chin on them. In her eyes, the sunset, the clouds, and the boy’s startled face reflected together—like the little girl who’d once run wild over these hills, seeing this scene for the first time, bright-eyed and enchanted.

“All I can give you... is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen in my life.”