Chapter 275

“…Seems like there’s another witch here.”

[Hmm…]

Ophelia, with a sinister smile, held up a pitch-black crystal to the air. It was an utterly bewildering sight, enough to make even Hersela groan. Extracting and sealing souls at will? That’s the kind of thing a final boss would do, isn’t it?

“Calling me a witch is a bit harsh. This is more like a technique close to soul manipulation. It’s heretical, sure… but not exactly witchcraft.”

Hearing the term “soul manipulation” only made it feel more unsettling. I only know one character who uses soul manipulation, and that person is definitely not an ally.

“Soul manipulation… Do the Empire’s magicians use that kind of thing?”

“They used to research it a lot. It became rare after it was labeled heretical… but any decent magical family probably has some related artifacts lying around. The Sigmillus family was no exception.”

If it’s a technique labeled as heretical, then it’s definitely not something Lacey would show off.

“Are you sure you should be telling me this? I’m technically a ‘Knight of Radiance’ or something, you know.”

“You don’t have an ounce of faith anyway. Considering you didn’t rat out your sister… I thought it wouldn’t matter. Or are you planning to report me now?”

Ophelia let out a long breath. The smoke she exhaled hit the wall and scattered into pieces.

Well, I don’t really plan to, but…

“…As long as you don’t cross the line.”

“The line…? Ah, like harming civilians or something? I’ve always thought it was strange how obsessed you are with avoiding collateral damage. Like you’re some kind of holy knight. You didn’t seem like that kind of person when I first met you… Did the position change you?”

Ophelia giggled, as if finding it oddly amusing.

“Maybe… or maybe I was always like this.”

At the very least, I’ve always hated indiscriminate terrorism and civilian casualties.

“Anyway, don’t worry about that. The only one I’m interested in is my sister. As for this soul… let’s just say it’s a reward for helping me achieve my revenge.”

“A reward? What are you planning to do with it?”

I could understand sealing Isabella’s soul in a bizarre artifact, but I couldn’t guess its purpose. So I needed a clear answer. It was too dangerous to leave it alone.

“If I say it’s a secret for future enjoyment, you’ll probably smash it right away. Fine, I’ll explain.”

Ophelia shrugged and flicked off some ash. Then came the explanation. I couldn’t understand the technical details, but I got the gist of what she was trying to do.

A homunculus.

Despite the grandiose term “little human,” it’s essentially a doll-like creation made by stitching together various creatures into a human form. It’s biologically incomplete, so it rots within days, is incredibly weak, has no magical power, and can’t even use mana. It’s a defective product.

Moreover, to make it move properly, you need a proper soul, which is why it’s considered the ultimate taboo.

“But with a soul stone, you can use it semi-permanently. You don’t need to fuse the soul into the homunculus’s body; you can just embed the soul stone directly. When the body rots, you retrieve the stone. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“…You don’t sound too sure.”

“I’m still studying soul manipulation. If it weren’t for an old magic book I found with the soul stone, I wouldn’t have thought this was possible. It seems one of our ancestors had deep ties with soul manipulators. Thankfully, they’re all dead now… so I’m the only one who knows this.”

…Do we even need to clear this woman of her witch accusations? She’s not exactly holding a knife, but her actions are just as bad…

[This is why you should stay as far away as possible from sorcerers.]

Even Hersela looked utterly baffled, as if to say, “What kind of nonsense is this?”

[But… if we use that method, we could also… No. Never mind. Even so, that’s a bit too much…]

What is she even talking about? Is she thinking of pulling out my soul and making a homunculus out of it? Like, “Separation successful!” or something?

Am I crazy? I’d never do something like that.

“Anyway, I’m going to make a ‘little Isabella’ with this. A tiny doll with no limbs, barely any strength, and a lifespan so short it’ll rot in no time. But I’ll amplify its nerve sensitivity. Maybe 30 times? It’ll be a rough process, but… who cares, right?”

A little Isabella.

Despite the cute-sounding name, the reality was the epitome of unethical. Using Isabella’s soul stone to create a homunculus, torturing it, killing it, and reviving it endlessly.

That’s why I like it.

“Sounds good.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

Ophelia grinned and slipped the soul stone into her pocket. Congratulations, Isabella. Considering most of your powers were related to life force, you must have been obsessed with immortality. Well, now you’ll never die.

After finishing her story, Ophelia immediately fell asleep, leaning halfway against the wall.

She must have exhausted all the magical power she had left when extracting the soul, so she probably didn’t have the strength to hold on any longer.

She pulled out the still-burning cigarette from her slightly parted lips, tossed it into the drain, and sat down next to it, exhaling smoke while enduring the overwhelming fatigue.

Just in case, someone needed to stay awake until others arrived.

…Fortunately, it didn’t take too long.

“Has-hal-leur! Elmain Gong! Sigmillers! Everyone’s still alive, right?!”

Just as the cigarette she was holding was almost burnt out, a familiar voice echoed from the other side of the drain.

It’s Rene. Looks like they managed to win over there.

I was secretly worried since he disappeared from the battlefield while fighting Ernst and showed no signs of returning.

Judging by the fact that his voice didn’t sound too desperate, it seems there were no casualties. That’s a relief.

With this… I can finally rest easy.

The cigarette that fell from her lips touched the pooled blood, releasing its last wisp of smoke.

Her forcibly awakened mind was screaming at its limit.

Time-wise, the battle might have lasted an hour, but it felt like we had been fighting non-stop for almost a week.

Well, we really pushed ourselves to the brink of chaos.

At this point, even pain doesn’t feel like pain anymore.

I’m sleepy… Can I sleep now…?

My head feels heavy. My thoughts keep cutting off. There’s no strength left in my body.

As for the Benes territory… with all those troops, they probably handled it well…

The other places… I’ll think about them after I get some sleep…

Through my blurry vision.

The last thing I saw was Rene running toward me before my eyelids closed.

[The specter…]

In the quietly sinking consciousness, Hersela’s muttering voice faintly scattered away.

—

I woke up three whole days later.

Lacey, who had only run out of holy and physical strength, was already up the next day, busy with the priests cleaning up the aftermath. Ophelia, still on the wanted list, had been secretly whisked away by Rene and somehow treated.

As for me, I was, as usual, completely drained and groaning in pain.

Thanks to the healing spells poured on me, my wounds were healing well, so with some proper rest, I’d recover soon enough.

On the other hand, Nigel and Bels were still unconscious, lying in their sickbeds.

Bels’ condition was especially severe.

Nigel had lost a few fingers and suffered heavy bleeding, but Bels had fought with his left arm severed, burning through his life force.

The wounds might heal eventually, but the lost life force won’t return.

Even if he wakes up, he’ll need months of recovery, and his lifespan has definitely been shortened…

“…I’m sorry about that.”

“What are you talking about…?”

Lacey tilted her head.

Despite being incredibly busy, she came to visit me shortly after I woke up.

“About Bels. He’s your knight, right? Seems like he pushed himself too hard…”

“…Ah, her. You don’t need to worry about that. Sir Bels chose that path based on her own beliefs. I’m sure she’d say the same.”

Lacey smiled and shook her head, as if to say no apology was needed.

Her snow-white hair swayed softly.

If she thinks that way, it does make me feel a bit better…

But I still feel bad. If there had been just one more person, maybe she wouldn’t have had to push herself so hard.

Though, at the time, that was the limit of the forces we could bring.

—

“By the way, what happened to Isabella’s remaining head? Somehow only that part was left.”

Her soul was taken by Ophelia, but the part above her nose and her brain were still intact.

Did they display it somewhere as a memento of the witch’s end?

“Ah… about that, Princess Leonor—no, Sir Rene, was it? She personally deep-fried it in oil.”

……What did she do with what?

“Wait. I think I misheard. Can you say that again?”

“She said she’d perform a purification ritual herself, soaked it in holy oil, and then deep-fried it. She said she’d get her revenge that way…”

…Good heavens.

I never imagined she’d deep-fry her own mother’s head.

She really has a deep sense of vengeance…