The Devil's Cursed Witch novel Chapter 9

Erlos awkwardly cleared his throat and approached the drunk man nearest to him. “Good day, mister.”

“S-S-Sir! No, young master! Young lord!” the drunk man stammered incoherently. “What brings a nobleman to this poor village? How can I help you?”

Before Erlos could reply, another man who seemed to be more sober commented, “Must be someone from the capital of the kingdom who came here after hearing the witch has died.”

“Ah, right! Uhh, erm, call for the Village Chief! Tell him a visitor has arrived—”

“No, thank you, gentlemen,” Erlos replied, not wanting to prolong his stay. “I want to ask what happened to that mountain.” He pointed towards the form of the rugged peak visible from the village.

“That mountain? Of course, we burned it! We burned it didn’t we?” said another drunk and everyone laughed with him.

“I helped pour oil!”

“I helped by throwing a torch!”

“Yes, we are heroes! We killed that witch.”

The young elf exclaimed, “You burned a witch to death? Truly?”

From what he understood, these humans were part of a mob who helped burn that mountain to kill someone who’s allegedly a witch. But could burning a mountain truly kill a real witch? Absurd! Only weak humans would die from such a nonsense thing. Any creature capable of wielding magic would have found a way to escape, one way or another. If they claimed they hunted a witch, chained her to a pyre and put her to fire, he would have at least somehow believed them.

Erlos tilted his head in confusion. ‘Speaking of which, isn’t the human girl the King brought back last night injured with burn marks? Could it be that he found her half-dead body on that mountain? Oh, so we came here to investigate what happened to her! Sire, you should have told me that from the very beginning! And I was right, I came among these disgusting humans because of that human female.’

Unaware of the elf’s thoughts, the villagers continued to ramble on, “Isn’t the liquor provided by the royal family the reward we got from helping? After the fire burned everything in that mountain, the army searched the mountain and confirmed that the witch is dead.”

“Pity they didn’t find her bones.”

“What are you talking about? Nothing remains of that taboo because we have burned her to ashes. Good riddance!”

‘Are these humans talking about a real witch or that human girl Sire brought with him the previous night?’ Erlos wondered.

Although the young elf was living in Agartha, a kingdom isolated from the human kingdoms of the continent, he had a basic understanding of humans. ‘They do not know that witches are born, not made. Witches are a race, the same way humans and elves are races. Oftentimes, only one out of the hundred females they call ‘witches’ is a real witch.’

Erlos returned his attention to the villagers. “Have you personally seen this witch? What does she look like?”

“Of course not!” the man replied. “I would be dead now if that was the case!”

“Indeed, young lord,” replied the first villager Erlos approached. “They say her appearance is so shocking and terrifying, those who saw it died on their feet.”

“Hah, she must have looked like the worst nightmare imaginable personified!” one man replied, and then they continued to ramble on about things that Erlos found to be nonsense.

The young elf moved away from them, deciding that perhaps it would be smarter to ask the women. ‘Those females might answer me more seriously.’

“Miss, do you know who is this witch? Does she have a name? Perhaps, are there stories about what she looks like?”