Miss Witch, please don't leave your fragrance everywhere

Chapter 1: A Fool's Dream
"Man is born free, yet everywhere he is in chains."

Years later, the solitary witch would sometimes recall a past long gone.
She would remember a world not of sword and sorcery, but a land far away, filled with towering skyscrapers.
“Study hard,” her mother once told her.

She could no longer remember her mother’s face. But her words had stayed with her.
“Otherwise, you’ll end up like them.”
Them.

On the way home, she would sometimes pass sweaty, exhausted workers. Men and women alike, their uniforms stained with oil and grime, dirty towels wrapped around their necks like uniforms of their own.
Yet after hearing what her teacher said that day, she looked up curiously and asked her mother:
“But Mom, they’re working hard, earning an honest living. Our teacher said labor is noble and praiseworthy. Shouldn’t those uncles and aunties be proud of their work?”

They weren’t thieves.
They didn’t rob anyone.
They worked with their hands and earned what they got.

So why did her mother say they were incompetent?
“You’re still too young. One day, you’ll understand.”
That was all her mother said.

And though she didn’t understand, everyone around her seemed to agree. Not a single playmate saw such labor as honorable work. Deep down, even she had felt a little repulsed.
She didn’t want to live like that—exhausted every day. She wanted something easier. Something comfortable.
One day, she happened to ask a few of the men at a barbecue stand.

“Don’t be silly, kid. If we had a choice, none of us would be doing this.”
“We work hard for one reason—so our families can live a better life.”
“I want my kids to be sitting in offices, holding pens, in air-conditioned rooms—not busting their backs like their old man.”
They laughed, clinking beer bottles together.

It was all so strange.
Teachers said labor was honorable.
But no one wanted to be like them.

Her mother didn’t.
She didn’t.
Even those workers didn’t want their children to follow in their footsteps.

Only later did she begin to understand.
It was just a job. A way to make ends meet.
No one ever thought of it as "honor."

“Listen up, guys! Don’t be fooled anymore!”
Somewhere in the Kingdom of Yamaurote, a man stood atop a mining cart, rousing the workers.
“Remember what the witch told us when we first got here? That we’d all start from nothing, work together, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) build a future and live happily ever after? What a load of crap!”

He slapped a wall where a magical poster still clung—an enchanted image bearing the face of a miner.
“Employee of the Month,” it said.
The rest of the text had been torn off in anger, but it was clearly an award. The miner’s name was Tom.

“Look at poor Tom, folks! He bought into her sweet lies—working overtime, busting his back every month to win this worthless title! And for what? Did his pay go up? Nope! Same paycheck, same hours, and they toss us a cheap award to trick us into slaving harder!”
“Tom… he was one of her most loyal supporters…”
“Wait—Tom isn’t here today. Where did he go?”

“That’s the thing! His wife fell gravely ill. He rushed home to take care of her, only to be told—no cutting in line! No special treatment! Equality for all, my ass—that’s what the witch promised!”
“We’re being exploited!”
“Strike! Strike!”

“Let’s protest!”
One man was violently thrown back, crashing into wooden crates and smashing them to pieces. As he howled in pain, onlookers watched in terror—he’d probably broken several bones.
But the one who struck him wasn’t human.

It was a humanoid being with aquatic features and deep blue skin.
A merman—one of the aquatic races capable of living on land.
“You… you can’t do this!”

“Get out.”
“That house was given to me by the witch!”
The human man argued with the merman.

The merman sneered.
“Yeah, your house… funny thing. I built it. But the witch confiscated it, claiming I had more than I was allowed to earn, and gave it to you instead. I actually believed her when she said Yamaurote welcomed all races equally—what a joke!”
“Ha… right…”

Blood covering his face, the man laughed bitterly.
“She said we former serfs would be free here. When I got that house, I thought I’d found heaven. Doesn’t Yamaurote have a rule? One house per person!”
“I built two with my own hands. Why confiscate one of them?! Is equality just a fancy word for stepping on capable races and coddling lazy, non-magical humans like you?”

“You’re going too far! Without the food we grow, you wouldn’t survive!”
“We mermen can live underwater just fine without you. You’re the parasites draining us dry!”
In a tavern in Yamaurote—

“An elf, drunk? That’s rare.”
The leopardfolk bartender chuckled. But he already knew why.
“Probably another argument over mage rights?”

“Ugh… you bet. That witch—she betrayed us.”
The drunken dark elf slammed back another drink. His skin was a dusky shade from the distant isle of Albion.
“She said we’d build a society free from bias and discrimination… We mages gave everything to build this country. And how did she repay us? By demanding we stand equal with useless trash who can’t even cast a tier-nine spell!”

He slammed his empty glass down.
“Mages built this nation! And what did we get? Nothing! She expects us to share everything equally! No bias? No discrimination? Yamaurote is the most anti-mage country on the continent! Even Albion, where everyone’s a mage, is better! Hear that, ‘Black Witch’? You’re a fraud!”