Chapter 22

Misunderstandings are often born from minor twists, whether big or small.

If caught early, one can simply laugh it off and quickly mend the gap. But what happens when a small gap gradually widens to the point where it can no longer be filled?

For example, an action perceived as abandonment later turns out to have been for one’s own protection. Or planning a lifetime of revenge only to find out the target has already died after enduring horrific torture. Or struggling to buy more time, biting one’s own lips to cling to fading consciousness.

And what if that person happens to be family?

By then, the small gap would have turned into an abyss, impossible to escape once fallen in.

And one would regret it.

Better to have never known at all.

***

“Ahhh…”

Mirabel stammered.

Unclear syllables broke apart.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

“There’s no time for this now. Please, kindly take Mirabel and leave Praksh immediately. I implore you.”

Before her, Harold knelt before Carami, pleading.

Even though she was the reason why he had died such a terrible death.

Even though in his timeline, he had just awakened after enduring brutal torture.

Even before he had time to fully grasp reality.

Harold brushed all of this aside, begging to take her away. Watching this, Mirabel was left speechless.

This wasn’t the heartless man abandoning his daughter.

It was quite the opposite.

It was the image of a father who deeply loved his daughter, matching exactly with the Harold Mirabel had tried to forget from her memories.

“Ungh…”

Her legs suddenly gave way, and Mirabel collapsed, heaving with dry retching. She was disgusted with herself for ever thinking Harold was a target for revenge when she didn’t know the truth.

“Mi—Mirabel! What is wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?”

In an instant, Harold rushed to check on Mirabel. She lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze.

Carami had mentioned before that the reason the slave girl’s soul disappeared could be because time had passed or because she had no ties left in this world.

However, Harold’s soul, who had died on the same day, was still intact. This meant he still had ties. But to what?

… …

Mirabel wasn’t so naive as to not understand this.

“Mr. Harold, there’s no need to plead like this. I am most capable of taking care of my own slave, and besides, Mirabel is not the helpless one she used to be.”

“Not helpless? What do you mean?”

“I’ve become a witch. A great witch, capable of easily destroying a kingdom. Not even dozens of knights can harm me.”

Harold looked at Mirabel in surprise.

“Is that true?”

After a pause, Mirabel slowly nodded.

“Is she hurt or feeling unwell anywhere?”

She nodded again.

Harold let out a sigh of relief.

“Well then, it’s truly fortunate. When Naredi awakened, electricity surged everywhere; it was absolute chaos.”

At the mention of her mother, Mirabel’s head shot up.

“Mama… too…?”

“Yes. Witches often lose control of their powers when they first awaken, so they couldn’t even hold hands. Still, Naredi kept trying to, and if refused, she got upset. It was quite chaotic.”

“Really?”

Harold smiled and nodded.

“Isn’t it true? Did anything happen when Mirabel became a witch?”

“I had thunder and lightning…”

“Ha! Thunder and lightning! Impressive. Actually, now that I think about it, I expected no less from Mirabel.”

“Really…? You’re not lying?”

“Of course it’s real. Even in your mother’s womb, Mirabel had immense magical power. Sometimes it leaked out. A knowledgeable witch once said Mirabel would become a great witch someday. And I told your mother.”

Recalling the cherished memory, Harold continued.

“That this child would create a world where we wouldn’t have to hide. A child who would bring a miracle to our family. The kind who brings wonders. That’s where ‘Mirabel’ comes from—taken from the word ‘miracle.’ Doesn’t that name fit perfectly, Mirabel?”

Tears welled up in Mirabel’s eyes.

As her vision blurred with tears and she couldn’t see clearly,

“…Yes.”

She softly agreed.

Unable to contain her tears any longer, they streamed down her cheeks.

Afterward, Harold continued to tell her stories in a calm voice while smiling. Mirabel listened intently, absorbing every word.

As if reading a bedtime fairy tale before sleeping.

Under the softly shining starlit sky.

But meetings between the living and the dead are not meant to last forever. Harold’s ethereal form began to fade. This was only because Mirabel’s magical prowess kept him lingering longer.

“Well, it seems it’s already time for us to part.”

“W-what? Already?”

“We must part ways, but seeing that Mirabel is safe is enough. It reassures me to leave, knowing there likely won’t be big problems ahead.”

“Bu—I…”

Though Mirabel knew she had to say something, she couldn’t find the right words and only stammered.

Her mind was too overwhelmed for a normal conversation.

Harold gently smiled and placed his hand on Mirabel’s head, as though he could touch her. His soft hand caressed her.

“You’ve faced much hardship alone, and I apologize for letting you experience so many frightening things.”

“But, I—I…”

“As a witch, you’ll likely face more challenges ahead. But Mirabel is sure to overcome them all. After all, you’re our daughter.”

His tone was filled with certainty.

Looking into Harold’s gentle eyes, Mirabel recalled the memory buried deep within her mind.

That day, the eyes she had seen from the retreating carriage.

There exists a cliff where no light reaches.

Once you fall into it, you can never get out on your own, nor can anyone come to rescue you from such a dangerous place lest they fall as well.

Thus, someone who has fallen into the cliff gives up on escape.

Only endless despair awaits.

But occasionally, such a person exists who, without hesitation, jumps into the dangerous abyss to rescue the fallen, bringing them out of the darkness and into the light.

“I love you, our daughter. No matter what people say, Daddy will always be on Mirabel’s side.”

His name is Harold.

Another name for him is Mirabel’s father.

We call such a bond a family.

“Can our daughter find the strength?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Though it sounded childish, Harold accepted it with a satisfied smile.

He stood up and turned his gaze to Carami.

“I entrust my daughter to you.”

“Trust your daughter to a slave merchant? You truly are one of a kind. Well, maybe it explains why you married a witch.”

Carami shrugged.

By now, Harold’s fading form had become nearly invisible. Mirabel frantically reached out, but her hand slipped through, unable to hold him. His form scattered, vanishing into the air as if it were smoke.

“Your father will always watch over you.”

After uttering these words, Harold’s soul disappeared entirely. No matter how many times Mirabel tried her magic, Harold would not reappear.

As if he had no more ties to linger.

***

In the square where Harold had vanished.

Mirabel sat curled up against a pillar, cradling her father’s bones in her arms, staring blankly at the ground with a lost look.

Her world was thrown into chaos, and she didn’t know what to do next.

Her driving force for revenge.

Her father, who had been the object of her vengeance.

It turned out he had only loved her; his sacrifice wasn’t abandonment but survival.

He wasn’t a legitimate target for revenge.

So, what was she supposed to do now?

… …I don’t really know.

“What’s with this defeated state? You just claimed that your father would always watch over you.”

“M-master…”

Carami approached from nearby. In his hand, he gripped the skull of the slave girl.

“It’s….”

“Confused because your mission of revenge didn’t play out as expected?”

“Yes… I don’t know what to do next…”

Mirabel answered truthfully to the probing question. Carami asked, perplexed by her attitude.

“Why not exact revenge?”

“But… but Father…”

“Does it absolutely have to be him?”

“…What?”

With an almost incubus-like grin, Carami murmured enchanting words.

“Didn’t you see it in his memories? The people who tormented him? Those who caused his torment.”

She had seen them.

The people who dragged Harold off to prison and tortured him cruelly.

People who laughed while forcing red-hot irons into his writhing body.

“Don’t you want to take revenge on them?”

She wanted to.

She wanted to bestow on those who had harmed her father the same pain he had endured.

“Then you should. Lady Mirabel has both the right and the power to do so.”

Carami’s persuasive words wormed their way into Mirabel’s mind, influencing her already weakened thoughts.

…

The seated Mirabel slowly stood.

She gripped her staff and fell into deep thought.

A deep, eerie silence filled the air.

The skull levitated into the air.

The atmosphere crackled with fear.

Stars in the dawn sky disappeared behind clouds.

The swirling black mist that gathered above Mirabel’s hand revealed the long-lost and supposedly destroyed Magic Book.

When Mirabel reopened her eyes, a strange glow emanated from her pupils. The same colored light poured from the skull’s eye sockets, lighting the entire square.

BOOM.

With a strike of her staff on the ground, Mirabel unleashed a blue wind that enveloped the skull. When the wind subsided, in its place hovered an ominous figure clad in a robe made of pure magical power, gripping a massive scythe.

A harbinger of the Grim Reaper.

The Witch Judge, Mirabel.

“Those who harmed Father. Those who knew no gratitude…”

The witch passed her judgment.

“I’ll eliminate them all.”

***

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