A Witch That Is Good at Hunting

Chapter 7: They Saw the Devil (2)

For the first time in his life, Nike experienced something a human should in their lives.

Well-cooked food. Soft blankets and a comfortable bed.

Above all, bathing in hot water was an astonishing experience.

“Bubbles!”

“Hold still dammit!”

His behavior was childish, but his body was that of a growing teenager. Washing him properly fell not to Rowen, but to Vigo.

‘To wash a brat that’s not even my own child at my age!’

Vigo pondered for a moment. Everything felt meaningless.

“You brat! Next time you wash yourself! Got it!?”

“First! Bath! Ever! Excited!”

Splash! Water hit him and Vigo ground his teeth.

‘Without realizing it, I may be getting played by him…’

That was a common witch’s trick. A victim never noticed until they were already being used, giving body and mind, and finally even their life.

There had been more than a few witch hunters who had lost their hearts and died for a witch.

Only after finishing his bath and eating warm food the innkeeper had sent up did Nike calm down.

Rowen struggled to teach him how to use utensils, but quickly gave up.

Trying to make a boy raised like a beast for fifteen years live like a human overnight was impossible.

Clean and fed, Nike fell asleep on the bed.

Only then did the two hunters sink exhausted into the sofa.

“…I cannot tell if I am a hunter or a nanny.”

“Shall we just abandon him?”

Rowen was serious.

At her age she should have been thinking about romance, not raising a child...

It was, without doubt, the worst feeling.

When the sky turned crimson, Rowen woke the sleeping Nike.

“…Lunch.”

“It is evening. Get up. We prepare for the hunt. Watch and learn.”

Nike yawned and followed her.

In the living room, the central table was piled with items that made his eyes widen.

“Treasure?”

Wide awake, Nike stepped closer. Rowen, polishing her staff-sword with rose oil, answered.

“Hunting tools. You must keep them in order if you want to survive.”

“Tools…”

Nike stared blankly at them. Rowen watched him, then asked,

“Want to try?”

“Effort. Reward.”

Nike nodded with those words. Rowen laughed softly in disbelief.

Her master had been right. The boy was strangely clever. She even wondered if he was already a step ahead of her.

Otherwise how could he so calmly speak of reward?

He clearly understood that work was paid for.

‘Unbelievable.’

When Rowen showed him how, Nike silently copied her. It was only wiping with cloth, nothing difficult.

He examined the tools with fascination as he cleaned. Staff-swords, throwing knives, strange colored potions.

He memorized everything he had never seen before.

After about an hour, the work was done.

Vigo and Rowen deftly strapped the equipment beneath their cloaks.

“Now, Nike, listen carefully to what I have to say. Firstly, you have no choice here.”

“Fraud?”

“No… It means we will not leave you behind in this house because witches are dangerous. You are with us to be raised as a witch hunter. You need achievements to be promoted and become rich, do you not?”

“Promotion. Rich…”

Nike folded his arms and nodded at once, repeating the words.

“You must stay with one of us at all times. Preferably me.”

“Vigo. Safe.”

Vigo was far stronger than Rowen. Nike actually knew it instinctively himself.

When Nike nodded, Rowen strangely felt insulted and glared at him.

“Good. You understand we are not hunting some wild beast with a bad temper, yes?”

“Witch! Slaughter!”

“Well… I guess we will see soon enough.”

Vigo explained seriously.

“…A witch usually creates familiars to guard them. Do you remember the oppressive feeling from that mansion?”

“Oppressive!”

“That was likely the familiar’s presence. Kill the familiar, and the witch will appear.”

The mansion had radiated a foul energy. Nike remembered and shouted,

“Woof woof!”

“…?”

“What?”

Rowen and Vigo stared with widened eyes.

“Woof woof!”

“Why are you barking like a dog?”

“On the third floor, a headless dog!”

“…What? Wait...”

Vigo stroked his beard, intrigued.

“You say there is a dog on the third floor? The ominous presence was a dog?”

Nike nodded quickly. He was only reporting what he had seen.

“You really saw it?”

“It is there!”

“Well now.”

The hunters knew he was not stupid, nor a liar. If anything, he was too sly.

So his claim was likely true.

Rowen bit her nails and sank back on the sofa. Her legs had gone weak.

“…This is absurd.”

“Amazing. Incredible. How is it possible?”

Vigo stared at him, forgetting to even light his cigarette.

“…Even hunters cannot see familiars with the naked eye. Preparation is required. But you… you can see them.”

“Effort. Gold. Rich!”

Vigo’s lips twitched. A shiver ran down his spine.

The thought of what this impossible talent might bring thrilled him.

“Heh, hehe… You really are something.”

“I’m not an object. Person!”

Nike only spoke what he saw, but they all praised him.

He did not understand the old hunter’s deep joy.

He only enjoyed their expectations of him.

* * *

The half-hidden moon hung in the sky.

Clouds cast shadow over the mansion.

Creeeak—

The rusted gate moaned as if greeting them.

Vigo carefully pushed through the bushes.

Nike followed at the rear, but spoke after seeing Rowen limping.

“Leg. Trouble.”

“…What? Are you talking about my leg?”

Rowen showed him the staff he had repaired.

“When I was young, a witch did this to me. It is inconvenient, but it reminds me daily of my revenge.”

“Leg. Trouble.”

Nike repeated without interest in her story.

‘Is he mocking my crippled leg?’

For a moment Rowen felt a surge of anger, then realized he meant something else.

“Ah.”

“Leg. Trouble.”

Nike held out his hand. She had focused only on his words, not his action.

Rowen scratched her cheek in embarrassment.

He was offering help, but she had thought the worst. She felt ashamed.

‘But showing kindness and winning hearts is a witch’s habit. I must be careful.’

She reminded herself the child could not be trusted yet and kept walking.

“Even if my leg is bad, I am not weak enough to need a boy’s help. If I struggled at this level, I could never be a hunter.”

“Wound!”

“…Thank you, but I really am fine. I appreciate it though.”

Rowen passed him again, confused at why she had thanked him at all.

She couldn’t even trust him yet.

‘Am I bewitched already?’

A chill ran down her back for an instant.

Countless hunters had been charmed and killed that way.

A boy whose true nature was unknown. She could not let her guard down.

She deliberately avoided looking at him.

“Do not wander. Even if you try to run, we will catch you quickly.”

Those colorless eyes could ensnare her at any time.

“I’m not!”

They reached the mansion gate.

Vigo smoked his cigar and stared at the door, muttering a curse.

“Damn, this is troublesome…”

He looked up at Rowen.

Her earlier ease was gone. She bit her nails as she had a habit of biting it when nervous.

“Rowen. The logbook.”

“Yes.”

She handed him a small notebook. Vigo quickly flipped through, stopping midway.

“…Just as I thought.”

Rowen leaned over to read.

“Blood roses carved on the entrance. The arrogance of living openly in a mansion instead of hiding. The faint scent of sulfur. A headless dog familiar… They all match the description of the witch who killed Hunter Hinsen a hundred years ago…”

Rowen frowned. Vigo puffed his cigarette and sighed.

“It’s a greedy old monster.”

“…A hundred years ago means a third-rank witch. We should go back and call for support.”

“No.”

Vigo tossed the cigar and took out a silver pocket watch.

“Morgana, that damned… That Captain sent me here on purpose. That wretch.”

“But it is still dangerous. By the rules, hunting a witch over a hundred years old requires at least two teams.”

Rowen bit her lip.

A Knight-class witch was truly dangerous. She could not understand why Vigo still looked so calm.

Even if he could handle it, caution was never a mistake.

Vigo dropped his grin and laid a hand on Nike’s shoulder.

“It is still worth it. We have a secret weapon. Right, Nike?”

“Slaughter!”

Nike shouted boldly. But the next instant, he felt himself flying.

“Egh!?”

Crash!

When he opened his eyes, he found himself rolling inside the mansion.

When he stood, he turned to see Vigo smiling as he shut the door.

“…?”

“Nike. Time for pay negotiation.”

“Hah?”

“Fight well, and I will raise your reward. Gold and treasure.”

“!”

His hesitation vanished.

No, there was no need to hesitate.

Fight well, and he would get meat and gold.

Just then-

From the third floor to the first floor lobby, a headless dog had come charging. It stared at Nike.

— Grrrr.

The headless dog growled low.

“Grrr! Woof!”

For some reason Nike barked back.