Chapter 1

#1 The Witch and the Tin Knight

For Dorothea, a witch’s apprentice living in a small forest in the eastern part of the continent, carrying out her master’s unreasonable orders was almost a daily routine.

There were times when she almost died wandering through the poisonous forest in search of herbs, times when she had to face a bear with nothing but a wooden staff, and times when she stayed up for three days and nights to prevent an evil spirit from escaping the barrier.

When Dorothea complained about the unbearable hardships, her master would look at her with a pitiful expression and say:

「Tsk tsk, you’re lacking. Are you really whining over something so trivial? When I was your age, I did much more than that.」

There’s nothing more annoying to a young person than an old person’s “back in my day.”

Dorothea tried to persuade her master with logical arguments about the changes of the times and individual aptitudes, but her master’s response was always the same.

「If you don’t like it, quit being my apprentice. The way out is over there.」

In front of her master, who waved her hand dismissively, Dorothea—a weak, pitiful, and unfortunate beauty (source: her own claim)—could only swallow her frustration.

There’s a big difference between being “the Great Witch’s apprentice” and being “a former apprentice who was kicked out by the Great Witch.”

Even considering her future job prospects, Dorothea had to somehow get proper graduation certification from her ill-tempered master.

Endure it. Just endure it a little longer. Once you graduate, a rosy life will be waiting for you!

With the same mindset as a student who mistakenly believes that a fun college life awaits after enduring the college entrance exam, Dorothea endured countless hardships.

“You, go to the capital in my place.”

Perhaps because of such a life.

When she first heard those words from her master, Dorothea unconsciously thought, ‘Ah, this time it’s something manageable.’

At least the destination wasn’t some deep mountain troll nest but a bustling city, so it couldn’t be the worst. It was an easy example of how hitting rock bottom warps one’s standards.

“The capital? What am I supposed to do there?”

“Go meet the king and run some errands for him. The brat keeps calling for me, and it’s so annoying.”

Dorothea didn’t ask the common-sense question of whether it was okay to call the king a brat.

Because common-sense questions only make sense when asked to someone with common sense.

Her master was a witch without common sense.

Instead, Dorothea asked something else.

“The king called for you, Master. What’s the point of me going in your place?”

No, it wasn’t just pointless—it could even anger the king.

If asked whether the king’s anger or her master’s anger was scarier, Dorothea would naturally say her master, but that didn’t mean the king’s anger wasn’t terrifying.

“Who goes isn’t that important. In the end, what the brat wants is someone to fulfill his request.”

“If it’s something so important that he specifically called for you, Master, I doubt I can handle it.”

Dorothea didn’t respect her master’s character, but she knew well that her abilities were monstrous. Along with her infamous reputation.

If a witch with a shady title like “Queen of the Undead” was personally summoned for a request, it was clearly no small matter.

Her master didn’t deny it either.

“It’s certainly not something that can be easily resolved. There will likely be many complications. But that’s what makes it worthwhile.”

“What’s the worth?”

“If the graduation exam is too simple, it’s meaningless, isn’t it?”

Dorothea’s body stiffened.

“You’re almost an adult now. Isn’t it time to stand on your own?”

Her master smiled as she looked at her apprentice.

Unlike usual, it was a kind and gentle smile.

“Now, show me your abilities, my apprentice.”

Dorothea nodded.

***

The light of the anglerfish swaying in the deep sea is bright.

The scent of carnivorous plants luring prey is sweet.

The voice of a demon tempting a contractor is cunning beyond compare.

Then, the danger of a “kind offer” from an evil witch needs no further explanation.

The price of forgetting what kind of person her master was turned out to be truly terrifying.

“Damn master…! You wicked witch who deserves to drown in a cauldron!”

Dorothea gritted her teeth.

As if even complaining was a luxury, a sharp dagger grazed past her eye.

Dorothea, who deflected the dagger aimed at her neck with her trusty wooden staff, muttered a short incantation and drew upon her magical power.

As dark, ominous orbs radiated outward, the relentless barrage of daggers momentarily paused, seemingly startled by the sudden counterattack.

Not missing the opportunity, Dorothea charged forward again.

Looking back calmly, there were ominous signs from the start.

The king, who made a disgusted face upon learning that it wasn’t the famous “Witch of the East” but her apprentice who had arrived in the kingdom.

The chancellor, who warmly welcomed Dorothea and explained the purpose of her summoning in a soft voice, in contrast to the king.

The grand “royal decree” to recover the kingdom’s eight lost treasures, but the so-called support troops who followed her showed no interest in the plan and instead suggested a sightseeing tour—a bizarre situation.

It didn’t add up. It wasn’t rational.

Like a puppet show with the order of events scrambled, everything on stage creaked and groaned.

Dorothea had no interest in politics.

The king’s hidden agenda to restore the kingdom’s glory and the nobles’ desire to live quietly without provoking other nations were equally worthless to her.

So, she decided to escape.

If she continued to travel with the so-called “support troops” and enjoyed a sightseeing tour, her body might be at ease, but the test her master had set was to “complete the king’s errand,” and to do that, she needed to act separately.

Dorothea was rational.

And it seemed that her rationality didn’t sit well with someone.

That was why Dorothea found herself being chased by unidentified pursuers in the middle of the night.

“Haa, haa.”

Dorothea gasped for breath.

Her skin was covered in small wounds, and her black witch’s robe was dirtied with dust.

Having grown accustomed to carrying out her ill-tempered master’s orders, she was used to such chases, and that’s why she realized the current situation wasn’t good.

The number of enemies was unclear, and she had no allies to help her.

Her magical power was still abundant, almost overflowing, but she lacked the means to utilize it effectively.

If she were a legendary necromancer like her master, it might be different, but as an apprentice still learning, Dorothea had limits to the magic she could perform with just her body and a staff.

Most of the potions and magical devices she had were almost used up during her escape, leaving her with only a handful of resources.

She could almost hear her master clicking her tongue.

「Tsk tsk, that’s why I told you to always bring a few undead with you. They’re good as meat shields, useful for menial tasks, and they don’t complain no matter how much you work them. Why do you hate them so much?」

Of course, for Dorothea, who once brought two skeleton soldiers to the market as a child and turned the village into chaos, such advice was worthless.

If she did something like that in the middle of the capital, her physical life might be safe, but her social life would be over.

After wandering through the forest for a while, ignoring her master’s unhelpful hallucinations, Dorothea’s eyes caught sight of a strange structure.

“…A castle?”

A glimmer of curiosity appeared in Dorothea’s eyes.

In the middle of a dense forest, a gray castle stood alone, an out-of-place existence.

The high walls and massive gates, symbols of past prosperity, still exuded a sense of grandeur, but even their majestic appearance paled in comparison to the moss and vines covering them.

At best, it could be described as “a once-famous landmark that has now fallen into ruin.”

Though Dorothea, as a witch, had abundant knowledge of magic, historical knowledge was a different matter.

Among the teachings she received from her master, there was nothing about the identity of a castle abandoned in the forest on the outskirts of the capital.

…Judging calmly, it would be wiser to flee to a place less accessible to people rather than searching such a conspicuous location.

But Dorothea, who had overcome many hardships since childhood, knew better.

Sometimes, you have to trust your instincts over reason.

Her instincts were telling her.

To investigate that castle right now.

The inside of the half-rotted, crumbling castle gate was pitch black.

Dorothea tore open one of the leather pouches on her belt and rubbed its contents on the head of her staff.

The powder made from grinding insects that hover around graves responded to the magical power in the staff, emitting a faint glow.

The state of the castle’s interior, hidden in the darkness, was far from good.

The walls and floors were broken in many places, and there were signs of numerous intruders rummaging through the area.

Having expected this from the dilapidated gate, Dorothea wasn’t particularly disheartened.

Instead, she opened another leather pouch and poured its contents onto the floor.

The oil extracted from mice began to bubble and boil, and soon, a translucent bubble-like mouse was born.

The bubble mouse sniffed the air as if catching a scent, then immediately began running toward a certain part of the castle.

Dorothea followed it.

The bubble mouse persistently circled a specific spot on the castle floor.

When Dorothea struck the spot with the end of her staff, a hollow sound echoed.

It was clear there was a hidden space.

The problem was how to enter, but Dorothea had no intention of pondering it for long.

A witch is one who is versed in wisdom, but not bound by it.

Sometimes, simplicity is the truth.

So, without hesitation, Dorothea struck the ground with her staff, infused with magical power.

Crash!

The strike, fueled by the frustration built up from the chase, splendidly shattered the floor.

Finally revealing a staircase, Dorothea quietly began to descend.

At the end of the stairs was an underground storage room.

It seemed that previous visitors hadn’t found this place, as there were almost no traces of people having been here.

The problem was that not only were there no thieves, but there also seemed to be no caretakers.

Rising dust. Rustling books. Rusted equipment.

The faintly visible circuits on the walls and ceiling indicated that preservation magic had once been cast here, but even that seemed to have expired decades ago.

Just as Dorothea was about to despair, thinking there was nothing useful here.

The bubble mouse darted toward “something” in the corner of the room.

Dorothea looked at the “something.”

The “something” had arms and legs made of metal.

The “something” had a cold, metallic body.

The “something” was draped in a tattered cloak.

At first glance, it looked like an abandoned suit of armor, and Dorothea muttered.

“A magical automaton? Did its previous owner abandon it?”

Mages, witches, and others who summon familiars to assist them call them “familiars.”

While wizards have spirits, alchemists have homunculi, and necromancers have undead, the magical automaton Dorothea found was a versatile type of familiar used across various classes.

Made by embedding an artificial soul into a vessel that easily conducts magical power, they have low intelligence and can’t handle complex commands, but they’re easy to control, making them popular among beginners.

The automaton in front of her looked so old that even Dorothea, who had learned much from her master, couldn’t guess when it was made. But the circuits themselves seemed intact, so it might be reusable.

Dorothea didn’t hesitate for long.

Placing her hand on its chest, she slowly poured her magical power into it, and the automaton’s appearance began to change.

The rust covering its metallic body fell away, and the small scratches were repaired.

It looked as if a dying life was being revived.

Dorothea frowned.

The automaton was absorbing far more magical power than she had expected.

Even Dorothea, who had been praised by her master for her vast magical reserves, felt a bit strained.

“Is it just old and inefficient?”

Thinking coldly, it would be wise to pull back quickly, but by this point, Dorothea’s stubbornness kicked in.

With a “let’s see who wins” mindset, she continued to pour her magical power into it.

“Here goes!”

And finally, the moment all the rust disappeared from the automaton’s body, Dorothea instinctively struck a victory pose.

If her master had seen her, she would have clicked her tongue and scolded her for acting so unladylike.

Having used up almost all her magical power for the first time in a while, her head was spinning.

-Hey, look over here! Did you check this passage?

It was right then that she began to sense movement and noisy voices from above.

Cursing the bad timing, Dorothea clicked her tongue internally.

Originally, she needed to proceed with crafting and embedding an artificial soul and establishing a master-servant contract, but no matter how she thought about it, the enemies would find her before she could finish all that.

The only saving grace was that there was only one entrance, making it a decent environment to face multiple enemies.

As Dorothea, fighting off dizziness, gripped her staff.

Whoosh.

A beam of light extended from the brooch hanging near the automaton’s waist and struck Dorothea’s body.

A sensation of something connecting flashed through Dorothea’s mind.

Before Dorothea could react, a mysterious message echoed in her head.

[From a long slumber, the “Tin Knight” awakens!]

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