NOVEL NEXT Ch. 4
Chapter 4: Male Witch (4)
Rowen’s eyes widened. She glared at her master who sat calmly with eyes closed.
“What…?”
“He is a witch. A male witch. It’s something never once recorded in history. Of course we must study him.”
“But Master, as you said, he is a witch!”
Rowen pulled her notebook from her robes, flipped through the pages quickly, and read aloud a line she had marked.
“Round Table of Struggle. Order of the Silver Blades, Rule Eight, Section Two. Any confirmed witch must be executed on the spot, without exception.”
She snapped the notebook shut loudly, as if to prove her point. She was quoting the Order’s principles to her master.
“Haha. Rowen, aren’t you ever tired of reciting rules?”
“Only witches, beasts, and monsters live without rules.”
Rowen’s voice was firm. Vigo chuckled and spoke.
“Rule Eight, Section Nine. Read it.”
“Eh?”
“Go on.”
“…Rule Eight, Section Nine. If the identity of a witch is not yet confirmed, or if the witch may have value and use, the witch is to be captured and transported to the Order, or reported and await a response.”
Rowen’s face reddened.
“I memorized it and pretended not to know on purpose. I know everything, Rowen.”
“T-The priority is still immediate execution upon discovery. The danger of witches is too great. In almost every case there is no time to wait for orders!”
She tapped the unconscious ash-haired boy lying on the ground and continued.
“Especially a case never recorded before. We must be cautious. Who knows what might happen.”
Vigo nodded weakly, still groaning from pain.
“Yes, yes. You are completely right.”
“So then we can…”
“But no.”
“Then I will cut off his head right- …Huh?”
He forced himself upright, gritting his teeth in agony without even a splint on his arm.
“Kgh, it hurts like hell… Rowen. Who wrote Rule Eight, Section Nine?”
Rowen’s face darkened right after. Her answer came weakly, as if she resigned.
“…You did, Master.”
“Exactly. I added that rule so I could use it however I pleased.”
“Sigh.”
“If you don’t like it, be a witch hunter for thirty years. Then you can change the rules too.”
“…I don't plan to do this for so long.”
“Tch- Fine, then don’t.”
He brushed aside his disciple’s cold glare and stood.
“Let us bring him inside. The rain seems to have no intention of stopping.”
“…Yes. I will fetch a splint as well.”
Rowen dragged the boy inside and bound her master’s arm in a makeshift splint. Then she went out again to scout the surroundings for signs of other monsters or witches.
Left inside were the boy, pierced and bound, and Vigo writhing in pain.
Rain still leaked through the roof.
The hut was filthier than an animal pen, reeking of rotting entrails and strewn with bones.
No trace of civilized life at all.
As the stench stung his nose, Vigo squeezed his eyes shut and muttered.
“Damn… even painkillers don't work. Bone shards must be pressing on the nerves.”
When he glared resentfully at the boy, the boy groaned and opened his eyes.
“Ugh…”
Nike woke up with a groan.
“Huh. how is he awake already?”
Nike shook his head, wracked with pain. When he tried to move his arms, he realized they were tied to the hut’s pillar.
He immediately saw the middle-aged hunter before him and bared his fangs with a snarl.
The ferocity in his face made Vigo marvel.
‘To wake this quickly even after being pierced by silver…? Unbelievable.’
Silver was the ultimate counter to magic power.
Just touching it caused witches or monsters excruciating pain.
To be stabbed deeply usually meant days of unconsciousness.
Yet here the boy had awakened in less than an hour. Such a thing should’ve been impossible.
“Kill! Murder!”
“Woah~ such scary words. But what can you do now?”
Vigo smirked. Nike strained against his bonds but found his strength drained instead of rising.
He realized instinctively the silver blade still lodged in his shoulder was the cause.
“Urgh! Take this out!”
“What are you?”
“I will kill you!”
“Why can a boy use magic?”
“Kill! Kill!”
“Who was your mother, and what are you really?”
“I don't know! I want to know too!”
“…No reasoning with you huh.”
There seemed no possibility of conversation.
Nike felt the same, glaring hatefully at the old man. He strained his eyes, trying to unleash power.
“Ggh! Agah! Hya!”
“Wait… Are you trying to cast magic right now?”
“Die! Die!”
“Then it’s pointless. Your body cannot use magic in this state.”
“Grrrrr.”
Nike glared so hard it seemed his lips might tear. This man had done something to him.
“Death! Slaughter! Dismember!”
“Hmm…”
Vigo was growing tired of him. Watching the boy thrash, he thought to himself.
‘If he really is a witch… then was his mother one too?’
He shook his head.
‘No. A witch cannot bear children. That is the price of gaining magical power.’
But facing this anomaly shattered common sense and gave him only a headache.
The unknown itself was what humans feared most. That was why witches were powerful.
Humans feared them because they knew nothing of witches or the evil god, and thus stood powerless before them.
The unknown was the witch hunters’ greatest enemy.
‘A special existence beyond understanding hmm…’
And here was a boy more incomprehensible than any witch.
“I will kill you! Tear you apart! Heart! Liver!”
‘Even a witch herself would be stunned by this one…’
If a true witch saw him, surely she would be shocked and intrigued.
For a male to bear and wield magic broke the unshakable laws of the universe.
‘He breaks the very law ruled by witches and the evil god. If he could be controlled, then…’
Perhaps…
Vigo’s thoughts turned bold and dangerous, and he was just about to get straight to the point.
But the door creaked open. Rowen returned from her scout, drenched in rain.
She shook off her hood and hair and approached Vigo.
“How is your body?”
“I feel like I’m dying.”
No hesitation in his answer.
“Then you are well enough. Good.”
Rowen sighed in relief. Nike still writhed, growling in his bonds.
She pulled out her notebook and scribbled a line.
[What will you do with him?]
“What do you want to do? I am curious.”
Rowen looked at Nike.
“Old woman! I will kill you!”
She scribbled again.
[Let’s just kill him.]
Vigo chuckled, then exhaled smoke and spoke seriously.
“We will raise him as a hound.”
“…Eh?”
Rowen froze, not even thinking to write. She clenched her teeth hoping she misheard her master the first time.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You heard me. That boy… he has the makings of the greatest witch hunter in history.”
Rowen flared.
“Master! Enough of these jokes! This is going too far!”
“Why is it nonsense?”
Vigo’s gaze was stern. His eyes held no trace of jest.
“Think carefully, Rowen.”
A boy who used magic.
Dangerous, yet in fifteen years only one person had been hurt.
And that person had tricked him and attacked first.
Even when villagers stormed his hut, he did not attack first.
He was not violent by nature.
“Well?”
“So what? He is still a witch, and nothing will change that fact.”
“True. He is indeed a witch, but one who can be collared.”
“Master…!”
It was reckless and dangerous.
She knew her master often gambled, and even risked his life sometimes to hunt and kill witches and demons.
But this crossed a line.
To raise a witch as a hunter?
“If we make him ours… can you imagine it? He’d become a witch hunter who wields magic.”
Vigo laughed, thrilled. He raised his remaining arm.
“With him, we could kill every witch in the world.”
The madness in his eyes left Rowen speechless.
No matter what she said now, Vigo would not listen. He was the sort who would defy even an emperor once resolved.
“He is the one who can fulfill the wish of you, me, and every fallen hunter, Rowen.”
“But… it is still not realistic!”
Rowen was resolute. She would not accept this, even if it meant opposing her master.
Vigo leaned back with a groan, lit another cigarette, and exhaled.
“Sigh- Rowen, I am tired.”
The old soldier confessed.
“Thirty years. I have fought witches since before you were born.”
His voice was weary, tinged with self-mockery.
“I killed so many of them. As many as I could. But… look at me now.”
His face was lined with scars, his joints creaked, and his hair was white.
“I gave my life, yet nothing has changed. I grew old and weak, but witches are still going around killing people.”
“…”
“Thirty years of fighting taught me one thing. Humans can never defeat witches.”
It was the confession of a man who had seemed unshakable.
Rowen looked at him in despair, seeing weakness in a great hunter.
“Even if you bring a hundred witch hunters like me, it will change nothing. Witches are strong, and humans are weak. Ants cannot kill elephants after all.”
It was a cruel truth.
“I want to rid the world of witches. Do you not, Rowen? Do you not crave vengeance?”
“…Yes, I do.”
“Then can you achieve that alone? Be honest with me.”
Rowen lowered her head. She could not deny it. Every witch hunter knew this bitter truth.
“To kill a monster, one must have a monster.”
“…”
“And now, I have found that said monster.”
Vigo pointed.
“Rowen. Raise your head. Look at him.”
Grrrr!
The boy still snarled like a beast.
“What do you see in him? Just a brute with strength? Human? No… To me, he is the savior who can kill every witch.”
Boom!
It was that moment.
An explosion roared outside in the rain.
Rowen bolted outside, then rushed back gasping.
“M-Master!”
“What is it? You act as if you just saw a witch.”
“It is terrible! The village is burning!”
Vigo wanted to ask how that was possible.
Because…
The rain still poured through the broken roof of this hut.
* * *
Putting aside his pain, Vigo ran outside.
He stopped at the edge of the hill, looking down.
“What the…”
Even in the downpour, the village below was swallowed in flames.
“How can such a fire burn in this rain?”
Vigo’s lips curled faintly.
“In normal cases… it cannot.”
“In normal cases…”
Soaked and with hair clinging to her cheeks, Rowen realized the truth.
This was no ordinary fire.
A blaze unaffected by heavy rain meant one thing.
“A witch…”
“Or a monster. Whatever it is, that fire burns on magic as fuel.”
Vigo’s voice was certain.
“Someone set it.”
“But who…”
Rowen rubbed her arms as goosebumps rose.
Strange, inexplicable events were happening one after another.
A boy who used magic, a male witch. The moment they met him, the village went up in flames.
Flames that burned even in rain.
It had to be witchcraft.
“Rowen. Do you think this is a coincidence?”
Rowen thought for a moment, then shook her head.
“Circumstances show otherwise. It is impossible.”
Indeed.
Someone had been watching all along, then acted.
Which meant…
Nike was not just some wild beast in the mountains.
He was something larger, holding a secret too frightening to guess.
Vigo felt the gears of centuries begin to turn.
“Rowen. Bring the boy. We are going down to the village.”
“…Yes. Understood.”