A Witch That Is Good at Hunting

Chapter 10: Order of the Silver Blades (1)

“Slaughter—!”

Nike, fully restored, threw both arms high and shouted his victory cry.

“Hunt. Success! Rich!”

Vigo and Rowen were struck dumb by his triumphant display.

He had burst apart a witch’s familiar with his bare hands. He had leapt distances like lightning. He even drenched in the witch’s fire, yet he had not died.

And in the end, he had pierced the witch’s heart. How could they even describe that boy?

The event was so absurd it dulled reality itself. It was an experience beyond shock, leaving them speechless.

“Uh…?”

“Huh?”

“Shoot!”

In the middle of his excited shouting, Nike’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

Vigo rushed forward and caught him. Nike had fainted.

Rowen limped after him and stood beside Vigo.

Unconscious, Nike looked like any boy lost in a gentle dream.

No one would believe this was the same child who had leapt from the fire and ripped out a witch’s heart.

The gap was too great and neither could adapt to it. They only watched him in silence.

“…Is he alright?”

“It seems he fainted from overexertion. He died and came back after all...”

Vigo inspected him closely, his brow furrowing as he scanned every inch of the boy.

‘What is this scar…?’

He then noticed something strange.

A large scar near the heart.

Every other wound had healed cleanly, but only this scar at the heart remained.

It was no ordinary scar.

It was a wound where mana gathered.

It was not from the recent fight with the Glass Witch either.

‘The only scar that doesn't heal huh…’

The boy was a bundle of mysteries.

The longer Vigo looked, he found another strange thing from Nike.

“Wait… what is this now? Rowen, do you see this?”

Vigo narrowed his eyes and pointed to Nike’s body, more precisely to the flow of his Qi.

“Huh?”

“He spent nearly all his mana fighting the witch. Right now, his mana is barely a trace.”

“It’s… filling again.”

Rowen narrowed her eyes as well and observed.  

Why was his mana replenishing?

“Isn’t mana the power gained by offering sacrifices to the evil god?”

She asked, and even Vigo could not provide a clear answer.

“Indeed. Mana doesn't refill so easily. One must give human blood to conceive it... But this brat’s mana is refilling on its own.”

“You are right… it is.”

Rowen was still unskilled at reading mana, but even she could sense what Vigo meant.

Nike’s mana, which had seemed extinguished, had sparked alive again.

It gathered like a current, swelling larger, pooling in his heart.

In thirty years of hunting witches, Vigo had never seen such a phenomenon.

He let out a low groan.

Even the witch herself had been unsettled by Nike. No wonder.

The scene defied reason so much that his judgment wavered.

“He’s a boy yet he uses magic. Even when his head is pierced, his skin melts, or his heart is torn, he revives. And his mana restores on its own.”

Vigo’s honest thought was that Nike was way too dangerous of a being.

If he had grown with a twisted mind, or had been raised by witches, he could have become a catastrophe.

“Isn’t this absurd…?”

Rowen, too, understood Nike’s danger.

She considered suggesting they kill him now while he slept, but the memory of his fearless fight against the witch silenced her.

Nike clearly had not hesitated to kill the witch.

He was no ally of witches. Should they then make him their ally?

Even that carried risk.

It was not an easy decision.

Yet there was undeniable value in keeping him. More than that, they had no choice but to.

He had proven it himself.

That merciless figure who tore apart both familiar and witch without hesitation.

At the very least, Nike was not an enemy. His fight with the witch was sincere.

Even Rowen, who clung to principle, could not deny that.

‘If only he can be trained.’

He could become the greatest hunting dog.

“But… Did he even use magic? It was all fists.”

“With those fists he burst a giant familiar. He recovered even from the witch’s fire. That must all be magic. Body enhancement and regeneration.”

Vigo’s lips curled up.  

Something began to boil within him. It was a fierce desire.

“…This brat. He doesn’t even know how to control magic properly yet. Nor does he know how to use it efficiently, or more powerfully.”

“…Huh? Then until now, he…?”

This alone was enough to prove what he would become.

“Yes. If we train him properly, a monster beyond imagination will be born.”

Rowen swallowed nervously, seeing the savage gleam in her master’s eyes and the big curve of his lips.

“Wiping out witches completely… may not be just a dream anymore.”

It was the first time she had seen her master look that way.

* * *

Before long, the city guards arrived. A massive blaze had risen on the outskirts, shimmering in many colors like magical fire, impossible to ignore.

“What in the world happened here?”

The head of the guards, face tight with fear, asked and Vigo began to explain.

“W-What? A witch was living in our city? Wait, that’s possible? But this mansion… I patrolled it just yesterday.”

“That’s just how the witches are. Ordinary people cannot perceive them. Which is why they are struck without realizing it.”

Witch hunts were usually carried out in secrecy.

It was because witches were sly, secretive, and cautious.

If word of a hunt spread, the witch might flee at once. Their eyes and ears were everywhere.

So in the end, hunts often left a city overturned, and the hunters had to explain everything afterwards, while being blamed for the damage.

They hunted monsters and witches. It was a noble duty, yet not all people liked them for that reason.

The vague unseen fear mattered less than the immediate damage.

“In any case, I leave you to handle the aftermath.”

“Uh, hmm…”

The guards wanted to protest. To demand how they could start such a fire and just leave and to accuse them of fabricating the story of a witch.

But when the head of the guards saw the emblem of the Hall of the City God that Vigo bore, he closed his mouth.

No matter what was said, witch hunters were priests belonging to the Hall of the City God.

In other words, they were carrying out a solemn ‘holy war’ in their own right.

Who would dare interfere with that?  

“…Understood. Thank you for your service.”

With matters settled, Vigo took Rowen and Nike back to their lodgings.

The guards never found the body of the ‘witch’ he claimed.

Only hundreds of skeletons were unearthed in the mansion’s garden and basement.

* * *

Even by late the next day, Nike had not woken. Finally, weary of waiting, Rowen shook him awake.

He muttered like an infant and opened his eyes.

“Nike, are you alright? How do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

He clutched his stomach as he answered.

“So you are okay, ah, blood.”

“Blood?”

Nike wiped under his nose. Blood smeared his hand. It was a fair amount.

Watching them, Vigo spoke.

“Looks like your body was heavily strained yesterday.”

“I managed.”

Nike boasted, but Vigo judged coldly.

Yesterday Nike had clearly died twice. Once when his head was pierced, and once when his body melted in the glass fire.

To revive from two fatal wounds… his mana had drained. His body had taken great strain from it.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re okay. You were incredible yesterday.”

Nike scratched his head and laughed.

“Work. Pay.”

“You really ask for money the moment you wake? Shameless brat.”

Vigo chuckled and tossed him a gold coin. Nike caught it and with sparkly eyes, he took it right to his mouth to check if it was real.  

“It is real. You think I would cheat you with a fake coin, huh? Do I look so petty? Do I look like the kind of man who would let a little brat fight monsters alone!?”

“You do.”

“…No words for that. Sharp little devil.”

“Nike, you can’t speak to your master like that. If you are a hunter now, you must show some- ”

“Forget it. I don’t expect courtesy from him.”

“But- ”

“While we are on it, Rowen, you should be more comfortable around me too. Are you still afraid of me or something?”

“Yes.”

“…”

Vigo laughed awkwardly, looking at Rowen.

“Anyway, are you starting to accept him now?”

“Huh?”

“Even just yesterday, you looked ready to kill him. But now…”

“T-That’s because!”

Rowen blushed and stammered.

“He killed the witch! For now… I will drop my suspicion.”

“Hehe.”

Nike stared at her red face.

“Rowen. Me. Suspicious?”

“Huh? Uh… Of course. I still do not fully trust you.”

She said it, but wasn’t able to meet his eyes.

Her head told her to keep doubting, to the death. But remembering how he had fought the witch even through death itself, the suspicion crumbled.

Yet when she recalled his terrifying, devilish form in battle, she realized trusting him could be perilous.

“Injustice!”

Of course, Nike pouted, indignant at her doubt.

“Anyway, let’s go eat. I am starving too.”

“Meat!”

“Yes, meat. I will feed you plenty as I promised.”

Nike ate until his stomach nearly burst. Cooked meat, without blood.

Raw meat was tasty, but roasted and seasoned meat was a whole new world.

When they had eaten their fill, Vigo raised the subject of yesterday.

“Have you ever fought a witch before yesterday?”

“No!”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

Vigo picked his teeth while nodding.

‘Yet he fought so well.’

Nike had faced the monster and witch without fear, even laughing and enjoying himself in the process.

‘Is he crazy?’

Surely.

Even with his flesh melting and an eyeball dropping from his eyelid, he had lunged at nothing but the witch.

It was beyond expectations. Beyond imagination.

Vigo was truly satisfied.

“I look forward to your future work.”

Chewing even the bones, Nike answered briskly,

“Understood!”

When nothing remained on the table, Rowen, who had gone outside first, returned.

“I secured a carriage. Let’s go.”

Bang! Nike sprang up, chair clattering, shouting in excitement.

“Another hunt!”

“…No. We are going to the Order. We must for you to become an official hunter.”