A Witch That Is Good at Hunting

Chapter 23: Final Test (6)

Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk—

The strange woman who had been making strange sounds, dragged her hand down her face. The features that had been blurred like an abstract painting sharpened into clarity.

A beautiful face, flawless and refined.

It was unmistakably a witch.

Now showing her true face, the witch tilted her head and smiled as if friendly.

“Hello?”

The beauty was breathtaking.

Ironically, that unreal loveliness only confirmed beyond doubt that the mysterious woman who had appeared in the dark was indeed a witch.

At first glance she looked normal, yet a closer look revealed distortions everywhere, the way her lips curved, the growth of her lashes, the shape of her ears, the position of her pupils and whites.

“How did a witch…”

The witch moved toward them, her motions ghostlike and unreal.

Swish! Hestia drew a dagger and threw it, but instead of piercing the witch’s forehead it struck the tree behind her.

‘…What?’

Even seeing it with her own eyes, Hestia could hardly believe the magical power.

It was a real witch.

Her limbs trembled. Her mind began to go numb.

She had expected the trial to be harsh.

But she had never dreamed of a real witch being here.

‘Could this be part of the test…?’

No.

Impossible.

However mad the instructors might be, they would never release a witch.

Why the witch had appeared did not matter. Death stood at her throat.

Hestia cut her thigh lightly with the scythe. Pain cleared her head.

As she had been taught, it worked. Clarity returned at once. Calm again, she thought.

Speculation could wait. Survival came first.

‘First…’

Attacking blindly would only get her killed.

She had to analyze instead of rushing in.

‘…Distorted form, attacks vanishing into air. I’m certain I know what it is.’

As a top graduate, Hestia pieced together the answer from thin clues.

“Nike. That woman is the Witch of Distortion. At least two hundred years old, a fifth-rank monster…”

At that moment, Nike grinned with delight.

“A delicious prey!”

Her nature, her power, none of it mattered to him.

Only that a worthy prey had appeared before him.

“…Nike. I will support you. We must focus.”

“Prey. Tasty prey. Expensive prey!”

It was no use. His ears were already deaf, his mind gone rabid like a hound on blood.

Nike lowered his stance.

Muscles swelled to their limits. His feet dug into the ground. His fingers raked the dirt.

“Grrrr. Kill.”

The Witch of Distortion sneered at the sight of Nike. Though she smiled, her lips curved downward.

“So the Order’s ‘hunting dog’ was not a metaphor after all.”

As her voice grew clearer,

Boom!

The ground split with the force of his leap, like cannon fire.

In a tenth of a second Nike reached her, fist clenched.

Even she couldn't follow his speed with her eyes. Yet the witch smiled casually.

No hunter had ever pierced her field of distortion in two hundred years.

…Of course.

That was until she met Nike.

Crack-!

“…What?”

The spell that should have bent space and deflected his strike shattered before him.

Crunch! Nike’s fist broke through the distortion and smashed into her face, bursting half of it.

Her jaw, teeth, and brain splattered to the ground.

The witch flung herself back with a sweep of her arm, warping space to escape.

She retrieved the eye that had fallen, glaring at him.

She was left dumbfounded after having taken a direct hit. She even found it hard to believe what had happened.

‘…What is this?’

His red eyes burned with terrible light. Incredible energy concentrated in his gaze.

‘That eye… isn’t that the demonic eye?’

Only witches favored by the evil god bore such gifts.

But the child before her was male.

Men couldn't even become witches.

“Who… are you?”

It was beyond comprehension.

Even the greatest witches needed hours of study to breach her distortion field. And that was only to pierce it, not destroy it.

Yet Nike had dismantled and broken it with ease. That required knowing its structure completely, which should’ve been impossible.

The Witch of Distortion couldn't explain what she had just witnessed.

She faltered for a moment, but then steadied herself.

‘…Interesting. So it was worth coming for that child. A rare test subject in a while huh?’

She did not know how he had undone her field, but she knew she could still capture him with fair ease.

A boy who could wield magic and could pierce spells was dangerous, but not beyond her. She would not underestimate him again.

She would seize him and take him away.

“Now, the finish!”

Nike lunged once more.

Whirr!

This time Hestia joined in, hurling her battle scythe like a boomerang.

The witch’s eyes cooled.

“Arrogant. Did you think it would work twice?”

Her confidence had reason.

From her eyes flared a radiance of magic. A complex formula she had long studied unfolded.

“Kgh!”

Hestia felt the laws of nature twist.

Her scythe veered at a right angle. The ground beneath her vanished and reappeared above.

Space warped freely.

Nike was no exception to this change in environment.

“Keuk! Eck… disgusting!”

For some reason, he couldn’t use his magical power.

His muscle reinforcement vanished. His red eyes dulled back to gray. He could no longer read the flow of distortion.

It was the simplest level of suppression, yet he couldn't resist.

As Morgana Roxana had warned, no witch would fall to the same trick twice.

The witch smiled viciously and reached out her hand.

Squelch!

Her slender fingers pierced the air and drove through Nike’s forehead.

“Ugh. Kugh…”

“No—!”

Nike was dead.

* * *

“…!”

Hestia gave a soundless scream. She couldn't believe what she saw, the witch’s fingers thrust through the back of her companion’s skull.

“Nike…? Nike! Nike! S-Stay with me!”

Her voice faltered. Her heart pounded so violently she thought it would burst.

A damp wind blew through the dark forest. She couldn't deny his death. No human could survive a pierce to the head.

She bowed her head, then raised it with clenched teeth.

“…”

Her first friend ever was dead.

Even she, who rarely showed emotion, couldn't contain the rage.

She bit her lip, and glared at the witch with a sharp gaze.

Rationally, fleeing gave her no chance of survival.

So she would fight, even if it killed her.

Tap!

She sprinted, reaching for the fallen scythe to slash the witch’s throat.

As she ran, the air rippled like water. Instinctively she dove forward.

As expected, the witch’s hand thrust from the void.

The witch grinned wickedly, tormenting her. Fingers like blades cut and stabbed from every direction.

“Kgh!”

Blood poured from arms, legs, shoulder, side, but Hestia seized her scythe at last.

Her eyes strained until vessels burst. She ignored it and gulped another potion. Blood raced and her heart hammered beyond limits.

There was no time to fear side effects right now.

Even if she died, she would drag this witch to hell.

The witch mocked her pained form.

“Even running wouldn’t be enough… yet you stay to fight? Humans are as foolish as ever.”

She stroked her chin and muttered. Hestia’s eyes twitched.

The witch’s mocking smile bothered her more than the pain.

“...You think you can understand the heart of people?”

“Hnng. Child, witches were once all human too you know?”

“...I’m sure you were. A human no one loved...”

Hestia had once been the same, but it was different now. She had comrades, instructors, and seniors who cared for her.

That was why she was able to say it.

Her words cut sharper than blades.

The witch’s mouth twitched.

She noticed only then that Hestia’s hands were empty.

The scythe was already spinning through the darkness.

Whirr!

The witch slightly tilted her head. The blade grazed her neck.

“...Tch.”

Red blood dripped down her pale skin. She wiped it coldly and licked the blood from her fingers.

“Still wet behind the ears, babbling nonsense.”

Her mood had soured.

That tiny girl’s words had stung her.

‘That I was an unloved human?’

The insult was unbearable.

“You really know nothing huh. Do you know whose love a witch bears? No human could dare to grasp it.”

With a crooked smile, the Witch of Distortion drew a line in the air with her finger.

Hestia narrowed her eyes, straining her vision.

‘The flow is strange.’

It was nothing she had learned in class.

Thin strands of magic stretched across points in space, pulling each other together.

Rumble. Space crumpled, folding in.

The forest folded like paper.

Above Hestia’s head were trees, earth, and Nike’s corpse. Gravity no longer mattered.

Yet she and the witch still stood on ground. Up and down lost meaning.

What had been meters apart was now right before her face.

The unreal scene crushed Hestia’s will.

A being who bent reality, who overturned cause and effect.

A fifth-rank witch was close to a transcendent being.

Hestia held her scythe in both hands, but her will was already broken. She couldn't even lift her arms.

“Ough.”

“Arrogant girl.”

The Witch of Distortion seized her throat and lifted her. The strength was monstrous for such a slender frame.

“Kgh…”

Hestia tried everything, but before a true witch, she was powerless

Like the hunters before her, she would die without leaving a name.

It happened as her vision dimmed.

Thud!

Hestia fell to the ground. She coughed, struggling to breathe.

Looking up through tears, she saw the witch’s severed arm clutching her neck.

‘…!’

As soon as she threw aside the arm, she saw someone standing before her. It was a familiar back.

“M-Master?”

“Tia. Thank the gods you are safe.”

Marksman Maximilian had raced in like the wind to shield his disciple. His arrow had pierced the witch’s arm cleanly.

From the far side of the forest, from the sky, from the ground, hunters of the Order tore through the distortion one by one.

“Judging by how her face is more twisted than my quarters… Could that perhaps be… the Witch of Distortion? Born two centuries ago?”

“How did she crawl into here?”

“Sestria. It’s probably possible because of her power.”

“Hmm. She’s more dangerous than expected.”

A prey of extreme danger appeared of its own accord. However, the hunters were in no position to prepare properly. The roles of prey and hound had been completely reversed.

Even so, the Silver Blades’ hunters did not retreat. Brave hounds surrounded the witch, growling.

“How tiresome...”

“A fifth-rank witch. Focus, all of you. Drop your guard and you’ll die. Here and now, we will slay the Witch of Distortion!”

“…Hnng. The stink of dogs fills the air.”

The witch sneered, and Chief Instructor Carlton gave the order to hunt.