Chapter 45

Chapter 45
## Chapter 45: The Witch of the Wilderness (1)

The following morning, a sudden disturbance shattered the peace of Mesen.

Mounted soldiers carrying the colors of Remtana surged across the bridge, taking control of the settlement. At their head was a middle-aged man dressed in a sharp, professional coat. The village chief recognized the newcomer instantly, his face draining of color as he offered a subservient greeting.

“Good heavens, is that not the Chief Aide himself? Whatever has brought such a high-ranking official to our humble village?”

“I have received reports of unsanctioned militias terrorizing Mesen and came to see for myself. I am well aware of your collusion with them, Chief. Waste no more time and point me toward their headquarters.”

“What? I—that is…”

Though the chief sputtered in hesitation, he eventually fell silent and guided the aide toward the vigilante post. The inspectorate troops moved with tactical precision, shattering the windows to bypass the barricaded front door and storming the interior.

However, they did not find a defiant rebel group prepared for a final stand.

“What is this?”

‘Mmph! Mmph!’

‘Mmph, mmmph, mmph!’

They found men bound in thick ropes, suffering from fractured limbs. Beside them lay a gruesome, perforated corpse that defied easy explanation.

The aide ordered the captives untied and began an immediate interrogation. The men confessed to being the local vigilantes and identified the body as their leader. Yet, they remained utterly ignorant of their assailant’s identity. They claimed to have been struck down from the shadows during the night, only regaining consciousness in their current state.

While none of them dared admit they were in the middle of a kidnapping attempt when the attack occurred, the aide clicked his tongue, his expression suggesting he saw right through them.

“Orders, sir? Shall we launch an inquiry into who decimated the vigilante leadership?”

“…No. Our duty is to follow the inspector’s mandate. Bind them once more and round up the rest of this criminal organization. Move quickly—we depart the moment the sweep is complete.”

The aide and his soldiers apprehended the chief, the survivors of the militia, and their known associates. They were shackled together and paraded through the village square as a public display of justice. Travelers who had been harassed or extorted by the group did not hold back, pelting them with stones and insults. The broken men struggled to limp along, flinching as the projectiles rained down.

The village residents, however, watched with a different kind of grief. To the outsiders, these were monsters; to the locals, they were brothers, neighbors, and kin.

During the procession, a middle-aged woman lunged toward the aide, falling to her knees in the dirt.

“Please, lord! My son is not a wicked man! With the taxes so high, he only wanted to bring in some extra coin to help us survive! Have mercy, just this once!”

“…Were taxes not reduced once Twin Gorge Pass was secured and the southern coffers stabilized? Why then did you not persuade your son to abandon this life of banditry?”

“That… well…”

She couldn’t admit that the illicit wealth her son provided had become a comfort she didn’t want to lose. As she fumbled for a coherent excuse, the aide’s gaze turned cold.

“The inspector has instructed me to resolve this with a degree of leniency. Your son will serve his sentence and eventually be allowed to return home. Do not fret.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. Now, clear the path. Any further obstruction will only add to the weight of his sentence.”

The woman retreated, weeping as she waved at her son. He gave her a faint, reassuring smirk. It was a dark irony, considering he was the very man who had sparked the tavern brawl, stolen a mount, and murdered its owner in cold blood.

Observing from the fringes of the crowd were two figures: a massive barbarian and a middle-aged man in a cap. The aide’s eyes met theirs for a fleeting second before he looked away, pretending they were strangers.

Kadim leaned toward Enrico and spoke in a low rumble.

“Is it true? Will those men really be permitted to return?”

“Indeed. Although everything from the neck down will stay buried.”

“…”

It was a chilling clarification. Enrico’s demeanor had shifted into that of a stern ruler responsible for the order of an entire province.

For the crimes of forming an illegal militia, seizing government property, damaging the territory’s wealth, and conspiring against an official inspector, there was only one legal end: the executioner’s blade.

—

The vigilante threat was neutralized quietly, keeping the inspector’s true rank a secret. The aide also managed to secure fresh horses and wagons. Under better circumstances, the group would have departed Mesen immediately to stay on schedule.

But fate had other plans.

“Ugh… my apologies… For my body to fail me now…”

“…”

Enrico, exhausted from sleepless nights and the relentless pace of the journey, had finally succumbed to a severe illness. It was impossible to travel for days with a man burning with fever. Consequently, the party was forced to remain in Mesen for several more days.

Kadim briefly debated returning his wages and striking out on his own. He quickly dismissed the thought. Given that there were active threats against the inspector’s life, leaving him defenseless felt wrong. Furthermore, Kadim still required a specific payment from the man.

‘He needs to survive long enough to grant me entry to the Magic Tower’s archives.’

With time to kill, Kadim looked for ways to occupy himself.

Mesen offered little in the way of diversion. The local fare was uninspired, and the ale was barely potable. A man of his background had no taste for the typical vices of gambling or debauchery. Moreover, the recent arrests had cast a shadow over the town, leaving most businesses shuttered.

Ultimately, only one productive task remained.

“Gah! Stop, wait!”

He spent the hours pummeling Duncan into a competent fighter.

“Maintain a constant awareness of spacing. Gauge the reach of your foe’s blade and arm, then compare it to your own. Understand the distance of your own step. If you find yourself within their striking range, you must act instantly—either kill or retreat.”

“I—wait, watch out!”

“Utility is key. If your opponent fights with a predictable sword, throw a concealed stone at his teeth. Honor is for the dead. A foul victory is worth infinitely more than a noble defeat.”

“Aargh! Help!”

After several days of this brutal regimen, Duncan was a patchwork of purple bruises. It was difficult to find a spot on his skin that hadn’t been struck. Yet, despite the intensity, Kadim never broke a bone or caused a lasting injury, controlling his vast strength with surgical accuracy.

Whether driven by a desire to learn or a desperate fear of the next blow, Duncan showed surprising growth. He began to anticipate and evade a few strikes out of every hundred, his instincts becoming sharper. He still couldn’t hope to land a counter-attack on Kadim, however.

Kadim’s view of the merchant began to evolve.

‘He’s slightly less useless.’

Duncan lacked innate genius, but he possessed a stubborn will. Kadim decided the ‘spark’ he’d noticed before might actually be worth the effort of tempering.

“Hah… hah… I can’t… ugh…”

“Rest. That is enough for now.”

As they prepared to head back toward the heart of the village, Kadim noticed a figure standing behind Duncan.

He narrowed his eyes. She had dark brown hair that caught the orange hues of the setting sun, sharp, cat-like eyes with amber pupils, and wore a loose-fitting shirt over rugged leather trousers. She was a stranger, yet there was something about her that felt oddly familiar.

The woman walked forward confidently and introduced herself.

“Greetings. I am Ilenia, a researcher from Galentana University—specifically, an archaeologist. You are a remarkable combatant, and clearly an Atalain, are you not?”

“…”

“Grand meetings are always a mixture of destiny and luck. I believe our encounter is no different. A mighty warrior of Atala and a scholar of the ancient past! Think of the wonders we could uncover together…”

Kadim and Duncan could only stare at her in silence.

She spoke with such frantic energy that it felt as though she were responding to a question they hadn’t asked. A memory flickered in Kadim’s mind—he had dealt with this kind of uninvited intensity once before.

‘…Like that diseased woman in the woods with the multi-headed serpent.’

Her mind was clearly elsewhere.

He didn’t need to hear more to know she was trouble. People like this were magnets for complications.

Kadim turned on his heel and walked away.

Ilenia froze, shocked by his dismissal. She thought she had crafted a perfect opening, but she had failed to account for his indifference. Abandoning her rehearsed charm, she sprinted after him.

“Hold on! You can’t just leave! Listen to what I have to say! I came to express my gratitude!”

“…”

“Those thugs in the vigilante group! You’re the mercenary who dealt with them! I’ve known they were rotten for a long time. They were a plague on this place. I was actually planning to lure them away to teach them a lesson myself, but you saved me the trouble!”

“…”

“Hey! Stop! Give me three minutes! How can someone walk this fast…”

Kadim ignored her entirely. His natural walking pace was equivalent to a sprint for most people, and the distance between them only grew.

In a fit of desperation, she shouted out her final gambit.

“Stop now and I’ll pay you 1000 luden! Listen for a minute and it’s 100! Each answer to a question gets you 500!”

In a town where a luxury room cost only 100 luden, it was an absurd amount of money. She stood there with her hands on her hips, certain the lure of gold would bring him back.

She had failed to consider one crucial detail.

The barbarian was currently carrying over 500,000 luden.

“Wait… what?”

Kadim understood the value of the local currency perfectly well. A few thousand coins were trivial to him now. He didn’t even turn his head.

However, her offer did find a receptive ear elsewhere.

“…My lady, I’ll listen for a fraction of that price… hehe…”

“…”

Duncan, covered in bruises and dirt, stood there with a hopeful, gap-toothed grin. The woman could only stare at the bedraggled merchant in utter confusion.

—

A mug of ale and a steaming bowl of chicken and eggplant stew appeared on Kadim’s table without him ordering. He looked up at the innkeeper, who simply nodded toward the far side of the room.

“It’s on the house for you. That young woman paid the tab.”

Kadim glanced over to see Ilenia waving at him with a wide smile. He felt an immediate surge of annoyance. She was persistent, he’d give her that.

He pushed the food away and stood up to go to his room, intending to bypass her entirely.

But her next question stopped him in his tracks.

“Tell me! Have you heard of the ‘Witches of the Wilderness’?”

“…”

“I knew it. As a son of Atala, the name must ring a bell. The priestesses of your land who read the future in the swirling sands, who marked warriors with sacred blood, who commanded the ancient arts! And then, they simply vanished into thin air…”

Kadim paused, his interest piqued despite himself, and sat back down. Ilenia let out a sigh of relief and took the seat across from him.

“…The Witches of the Wilderness are gone?”

“Yes, didn’t you know? Warriors like yourself are seen occasionally, but a witch is nowhere to be found.”

“You are mistaken. They likely remain in the lands beyond the mountain range.”

“Impossible. I’ve been there myself.”

“…You?”

“Into the great wastes. I spent years searching. I didn’t find a single trace. Unless they are masters of hiding from the world, they are gone.”

Kadim scowled.

The wilderness was not just a desert; it was a wasteland bordering the territories of demons, a place of extreme peril. Even for an Atalain, it was a death trap. For a woman to travel there alone for years and survive was almost unbelievable.

Ilenia gave a knowing smile and leaned in.

“As an archaeologist, my life’s work is the study of those witches. Specifically, the final generation that disappeared centuries ago, and the hidden sanctuaries they left behind all over the world!”

“…”

“I’ve located one of those hidden entrances near this very village. I haven’t cracked the seal yet, but if we get inside, we might find the truth of their fate. Does that get your attention?”

Ilenia’s golden eyes were wide with excitement. Kadim remained stoic, showing no outward sign of being impressed.

But internally, his mind drifted. He thought of a blind witch from a lifetime ago—a woman he had known briefly but deeply, and a parting that had never felt like a true conclusion.

After a long silence, Ilenia leaned closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.

“I know you’re more than just a common sellsword. You dismantled that entire vigilante cell by yourself. Most people here are too blind to see it, but I know.”

“…What is it you want?”

“Guard me while I reach the ruin. And if we find a way in, I need you to watch my back inside. There’s no telling what ancient defenses or creatures might be lurking.”

“…”

“The compensation will be more than fair! Think of this as a down payment.”

She dropped a heavy bag of coins onto the table. It was a reckless move—she didn’t know if he was a thief or if he would simply walk away with the money. She was incredibly naive.

Kadim took the bag. Since Enrico was still recovering, he had time to spare. He didn’t care about the gold, but it was a way to occupy his day.

More importantly, he wanted to understand how this woman had survived the wastes—and how she had seen through his actions so easily.

He studied Ilenia’s face. Her eyes were as clear as gemstones, lacking any hidden malice or deceit.