Magic is Words, Words are Power

The Witchlands, the tranquil ruins of an abandoned castle.

Illuminated only by the unclouded moonlight.

In stark contrast to the castle's exterior, its innermost sanctum — the lord's bedroom — was meticulously maintained.

A modest chandelier, glass-pane windows, a canopied bed, a refined desk, and a carpet in subdued tones.

There stood a petite girl in a maid-like outfit — Aery Heilem.

"My apologies, Lady Alma. It is likely difficult to apprehend the intruder by tonight, as estimated."

"… That's alright, Aery. I… don't mind."

Across from her, seated on the bed with a gentle smile, was the Witch‑Queen — Almaeira Serenarie.

Dressed in loose black nightwear and a nightcap, her head nodded drowsily, betraying her sleepiness.

"Your words are truly appreciated. As for me, this is an unprecedented situation. I can only hope I haven't caused you any unease, Lady Alma."

"There's nothing to fear anymore… Though, being burned at the stake… that alone, I never want to experience again."

"Rest assured, that will never happen. I swear on my life. Once you are wed to the Demon King, we shall reduce the scum of that kingdom to ashes first."

Aery's calm words were met with a vague smile and a shake of the head from Almaeira.

—As expected, Lady Alma is still hesitant about her engagement to the Demon King.

"Lady Alma, is something troubling you?"

"… No. Truly, thank you… always, Aery."

Suddenly, Almaeira stepped close to Aery's side.

This startled Aery.

Though she assisted with Almaeira's wardrobe, such proximity was inappropriate.

Her expression remained an impeccable mask of stoic servitude.

"Is something the matter, Lady Alma?"

"… I don't exactly not resent them. Even now, thinking of the pain and treatment I endured… it's not as if it doesn't hurt. But I've grown fond of this quiet life here. I just… want to be left alone…"

"—Lady Alma."

It was, in a way, the most extravagant request.

A master of divine arts, renowned as the pinnacle of humanity, and an exceptional mage.

Harboring deep resentment toward humanity, she was said to have been resurrected by the Demon King — the former saint, now Witch‑Queen Almaeira.

To her now, even the Demon King, to whom she owed a debt, was merely a nuisance disrupting her quiet life.

"… You and Sharo both go to great lengths for me. I'm endlessly grateful. So, please, don't blame yourself. I trust you with all my heart…"

"Your words honor me beyond measure. I humbly accept them."

"Keep this from Sharo… It's a bit embarrassing to say outright…"

"Understood. I shall convey it to her on your behalf."

"… Oh, Aery, really…"

Aery responded with a deep bow.

Though Aery appeared the youngest, Charlotte was closer in age to Almaeira.

In terms of skill and rank, Charlotte was superior, but Aery was the eldest by actual age.

Almaeira blushed slightly, smiling, then let out a soft "…Ah," as if recalling something.

"… There's one thing I'm curious about…"

"If it's within my knowledge, I'll answer."

Aery tensed ever so slightly, imperceptible to most.

"… What kind of person was the intruder…?"

—Here it comes, Aery thought, a chill running through her.

Charlotte had briefed her on the intruder's identity.

A lifeless, worn-out man.

Despite his appearance, an exceptional mage.

His mana reserves were modest, but his mana manipulation was masterful, with top-tier expertise in optical deception spells and anti-magic barriers.

Countless cursed crests littered the forest, making it difficult to pinpoint his hideout.

Most troubling was the name he'd declared.

The mage Yoal.

Yoal Yaothul.

The name of the man Almaeira had once spoken of — her beloved.

"There is no information worth troubling Lady Alma with."

"… Is that so?"

"Yes."

Once a priestess sworn to divine chastity, revered as a saint, Almaeira's love was doomed to remain unfulfilled.

Even if he were still alive, he had perished on the same day as her.

… Or so he was supposed to have perished.

"… Anything is fine. What did he look like… surely you know that?"

"I didn't see him myself, but he was hardly a sight to behold. Wandering the forest for days would do that to anyone — a rather haggard man. His only notable trait… was seducing a witch."

"… S-seducing, you say…"

At the word seduced, Almaeira's cheeks flushed.

Aery's composure wavered inwardly.

She and Charlotte had repelled or eliminated countless intruders, always reporting to Almaeira without fail.

Yet never once — not a single time — had Almaeira inquired about an intruder.

—Why now, of all times?

"… That's right, isn't it… He wouldn't stay single forever… A wife or two…"

"Lady Alma."

"… Y-Yes!"

Aery's voice snapped Almaeira out of her reverie.

She looked up, startled, and instinctively straightened her posture.

"Lady Alma. He may be a skilled mage, but comparing him to that man would only dishonor the latter. That man is gone. You are now betrothed to the Demon King. Please, take care of yourself."

"… I'm sorry…"

Almaeira's brows drooped, and she bowed her head.

But she didn't nod.

Instead, she shook her head and plopped onto the bedsheets.

"… I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me. I won't claim it was for your sake. Regarding your engagement, I'd like to advocate for what aligns with your heart."

Aery bowed deeply, offering perfect courtesy to her master.

"… It's alright. If I seem ungrateful, that's probably true…"

"Lady Alma."

Her gaze tinged with melancholy, Almaeira smiled faintly.

Aery lifted her head sharply.

"A man who'd use gratitude to force a marriage is worth less than a kick in the rear."

Her expression unchanged, she spoke matter-of-factly.

Almaeira blinked, stunned, then giggled and bowed her head slightly.

"Was something amusing?"

"… No. Thank you, Aery… I think… it's time for me to sleep… Good night."

"Yes. Rest well, my lady."

Aery bowed again and gently closed the door.

She turned from the bedroom and began walking.

Charlotte had a separate estate in the territory, but Aery's quarters were in the castle.

Not that she planned to sleep yet.

An intruder could appear at night. For her master's safety, no effort was too great.

The castle was silent.

The clamor of the black forest felt distant here.

Aery cherished this life — just like the Witch‑Queen Almaeira.

It was a far cry from her days in the Demon King's army, handling the darkest tasks.

Assassinations and espionage were routine; purging traitors was nothing unusual.

Her excellence made her a convenient tool. That was Aery Heilem, the assassin.

But serving the Witch‑Queen had changed her.

She'd once scorned the former saint as a half-baked witch, but even in death, Almaeira retained a warmth like spring sunlight.

Now, Aery's loyalty was to Almaeira herself, above even the Demon King.

She'd give her life without hesitation — a fanatical devotion that ensured she'd never neglect her nightly patrols.

Aery stepped alone onto the top-floor balcony.

Her silver twin-tails gleamed under the moonlight.

The night breeze stirred her lustrous hair.

"If it's just my imagination——"

A faint sense of unease.

Shaking it off, Aery deployed her mana detection net.

That very moment—

"Be alone."

From somewhere, someone.

Words she couldn't comprehend pierced the back of her mind.

The faint light in her already emotionless eyes dimmed further.

She nodded unconsciously to the wedge-like command.

With nimble steps, she descended the castle, dashed across the plains, and slipped out of the territory unseen.

Her honed assassin skills worked perfectly. Even Charlotte would struggle to detect her now.

"I designate your destination."

"Move as swiftly as possible."

"Report your current location."

"Respond."

Commands hammered into her, one after another.

A mage's words carry power. Immense, unmatched power.

Her consciousness gone, her mana circuit seized, she had no means to resist.

"—Yes."

Aery affirmed every order and began moving with fluid grace.

 

 

To be continued.