Date a Witch: Reborn as the Witch of Lust! (GL)

<Witchhunter's Howl>; its origin was rooted in the genre of Dark Fantasy.

Since everything went well with Lila, Mel could almost leave it behind; the tragedies that once befell all of them, before and after they became the Witches.

So her throat choked at the new information.

Liora has been in cahoots with the Cult since childhood?

"Wait."

Mel held her head; her golden eyes shivering. "Something's not right. Liora..."

The Cult was established only after the {Unprided Crusade}, and Liora was-

"You seem to have misunderstood something." Liora raised her head from the document.

"Allow me to clarify: no. I'm currently a hundred and thirty-five years old and have lived peacefully as a child Elf for about a hundred years."

"Then..."

A brief silence hung, as Mel's lips clenched themselves.

Though Maria broke it with a casual smile, now aimed towards Mel as she placed a comforting hand upon Mel's shoulder.

"Something you should've known, Mel."

Maria sighed. "The {Unprided Crusade} started not at the confrontation at the Western border, but at Pride's little... set-up first."

Raising a brow, Mel grumbled. "Mm. I get that I'm left out of the bigger picture here, but..."

Wait.

Mel froze as she deeply contemplated.

The Witch of Pride had an unhealthy obsession with this Kingdom.

She ordered harm on the innocent but wouldn't risk a two-way confrontation should the Kingdom of Veneralis seek help from other nations.

To be notified, and possibly prevent in advance, Pride employed her most trusted, capable familiars as spies into the Three nations.

Nyrel the Necromage for the West.

Tyriana the Frost Dragon for the North.

And-

"This... early?"

Mel tilted her head. "I couldn't have imagined the [ Shadowy Fisherman ] to... already..."

What Mel couldn't have expected was Pride employing her Familiar so early, a hundred years before she started the war? Seriously?

"For the Elf."

Liora explained calmly. "Time passed in a blink, and seniority was decided in a long period of experience and strength."

With a brief sigh, Liora's pen scribbled and signed her final document.

"It took him about seventy-six years, but he has ascended to a reasonable... position."

She then stood up from her seat, unwilling to reveal more as she strode to the sofa with a final conclusion.

"All you have to know is that as a result, my capability was forced to be used by the Cult in the past five years."

The elf plopped on the sofa opposite them; relief escaped as her shoulders slacked off.

"And the Saintess here struck a deal with me, got me out, and placed me in this academy not long after."

The elf's grey eyes then sent a subtle glare at Maria.

"Though I'm afraid my workload has only increased rather than been relieved."

"But."

Maria responded with a perfect, 'innocent' smile. "In exchange, you were given a much more comfortable environment to work in, guilt-free, too, am I correct?"

"That I would refuse to comment on further."

"Oh? Were you refusing your gratitude towards me?"

"Naturally."

Liora closed her eyes and shrugged briefly. "I'm uninterested in playing your games, unless it concerns my carefree lifestyle directly."

"Hehe. I admire your straightforwardness."

"Sure."

Giving the weightlessness in their exchange, Mel's drumming heartbeat eventually calmed to a lull.

Liora used to cooperate with the Cult, forced.

Mel couldn't have imagined the depth of Pride's plan, as the most ancient Witch, and Pride's own Familiar, forcing Liora right afterwards.

Blames almost muddled her mind, before she shook it off-

And bowed deeply; her hands folding inward to her lap.

"Thank you."

Mel confessed, sincerely.

"For trusting me with this information, Liora."

Liora's closed eyes slightly frowned; her experience dealing with troublesome officials was useless before Mel's gratitude.

"Hm..."

Reopening her grey eyes, she glanced and observed Mel; her waist still bent as Maria held back a chuckle beside Mel.

"It's not grave information..."

The Elf began to lean onto the sofa, tired of dealing with the situation's complexity.

"You should know I was neither traumatised nor... hurt by the Cultists, so I would rather you judge..."

She paused. What should she say? To judge her guilt? Or punish her accordingly?

The elf didn't realise then, but that was the first time she had truly considered not hurting someone's feelings.

Liora expected worse, but as Mel raised her head, there it was again.

Eyes that glowed the same as the 'White Demon' beside her, yet instead, it was filled with so much sincerity it almost became a burden.

Almost.

"Liora."

Mel clutched her chest, tears threatening to well up in her eyes.

Not of sorrow, but again of gratitude.

"Please tell me," Mel asked. "Was Nyrel... choosing the wrong target in Herma Village... also related to you?"

The Elf froze again, her lips hanging tiredly.

"The... the other Witches had sufficient protections for their circumstances, except me and Envy..."

She clutched onto her skirt, muttering.

"The Fisherman knew how to detect truths from my words. I was too inexperienced to be deceived and forced at that time, and... and the much younger Lila back then couldn't have withstood the poison."

The Witches, in their <Human Form>, were incomparably weaker.

Not to mention, Lila was only about ten at the time; too young to withstand the Poison.

As a result, Liora once 'irrationally' gambled for Lila's sister, Leia, to take the hit instead.

"If you blame me..."

The Elf's indifferent expression slightly fell with a purse on her lips. "I don't mind instead. Rather, Mel, as the childhood friend of Lila, I welcome the responsibility-"

"But you were forced, weren't you?"

"..."

Mel's single declaration halted the room to a grinding silence; the words that the elf refused to hear banged in her head.

"It was the cult that poisoned Leia, not you."

A kind smile bloomed on Mel's face as her eyes caught the quivering of the Elf's lips.

She leaned forward, her hand reaching out to cup the elf's; the unmistakable warmth prompted the elf to meet Mel's tender gaze.

"Please don't ever blame yourself again."

Mel mumbled, her brows curving slightly as she confessed her selfishness.

"It only pained me so, Liora."