Chapter 4: CHAPTER 4. The Deal with the Devil (Content Warning)

Reflected within the witch’s eyes, was the definition of abject misery which was his own expression.

Most likely because of that, the witch’s gaze showed a glimmer of pity.

Then, as if being pitied by a witch wasn’t humiliating enough—

“—Basically, the church is telling you to put a stop to the recent incidents by either winning a duel to death against me, or, in case of losing—to give yourself to me. A suicide mission, I see. No wonder they sent one of their most competent hands.”

Either way, both worked in the church’s favor. If he were to win, that was one less threat for the church to worry about. If he were to lose, then at the very least, the recent incidents would be put into a halt.

Because it was as the witch had said—

—he was one of the church’s most competent hands.

As in, he wouldn’t be easily defeated.

Or, wouldn’t break easily, for that matter.

Seeing his current state, it was easy to conclude which fate would befall him.

...In the end, it seemed that the outcome would be as the church had preordained, instead of what he had fought for.

The witch continued to rehash the letter as if it was a poem, drilling one undeniable fact after another into his head.

“—Moreover, you also have to relinquish your captaincy. Although here, it was stated that your team’s safety will be guaranteed, was it truly worth it? Are you okay with this? Your team, do they know about this—ah, this seal... so, it’s a top-secret mission, no wonder you went solo. How about your family? I’m sure they’ll realize if one of them were missing—”

—Julius turned a deaf ear at the witch’s barrage of questions.

The witch had to be ridiculing him in what must be some manner of mental torture.

“—Also, why do you want to keep this letter a secret? Is it because you’re confident that you’re going to win? Or is it because in your desperation, you were hoping for the content to somehow change?”—

—to which he felt himself wincing.

“...Did I strike a nerve?” The witch tilted her head. Her eyes, round and as bright as the moon, continued to study his expression. Without any hesitation, she reached for his head, and caressed his hair.

The reason for that was probably because after reading the letter, the witch felt a sense of ownership over his person.

A hint of disgust flitted across his gaze. It soon disappeared without a trace as his eyes assumed the calmness of a tranquil lake.

—again, to which the witch was oblivious.

“I’m sure you’ll look even more beautiful with your hair loose, Mr. Julius—”

—as she said so, she reached for the red ribbon which tied his waist-length blond hair.

“—Do not touch me.” He commanded; his voice frigid as he evaded her touch.

Towards the unexpected resistance, the witch became baffled.

Julius continued without pause.

“—To answer all of your previous questions; yes, my family is well aware of this—supportive, even. My former team is in a faraway place, safe from your evil clutches. Lastly, indeed, as per according to the church’s order, I’m to be given to you—”

—He blabbered everything. All of it, the truth.

Soon, none of it would matter.

“—but I refuse.”

Soon, everything’d be over.

“Because I’d rather die.”

In the same black eyes, his face was reflected. The only difference was, he was grinning. From within his mouth, his tongue, to be precise, light emanated.

Farewell, witch.

As the former captain recalled his fond memories with his ex-party, a blinding light enveloped the entire room.

 ***

The all-embracing golden light was the result of the entire magic accumulated inside the knight templar exploding.

Under no normal circumstances should one’s magic be rigged to explode like that.

The cause of the sudden magical explosion was none other than the Oracle Seal the knight templar had hidden inside his mouth.

Yes, the seal that should’ve protected the bearer from magic in the first place.

It was just that the manmade seal was delicate in nature. Not only each seal had its own designated location, but it also had to be properly aligned. A small mistake could be proven fatal—just like right now.

However, what had just happened definitely wasn’t a mistake.

The knight templar had not only meticulously hid the seal under his tongue, but he also made sure it was dormant—as in, hollow. Hence why the witch missed the eighth seal. When the opportunity struck, all he needed to do was channel his magic to said seal—which location wasn’t only wrong, but also misaligned.

The result, was—

—or should be, a grand explosion.

After the light had vanished, the room gradually returned to its once dim state.

All the furniture was intact. No, in fact, nothing had changed. Everything was in its exact same spot and condition.

The only thing that had changed was the position of the witch.

Previously standing beside the bed, the witch was now on top of said bed. Or to be more precise, on top of the knight templar.

His body, which actual sturdiness was exposed after all the layers of clothing was removed, shifted beneath her. Meanwhile, the owner’s eyes were tightly shut—probably due to both the extraordinary radiance, and also the prospect of his impending demise.

Well, those have passed now.

The witch noticed the knight templar’s eyelids’ subtle fluttering.

—...about time.

To adjust to the light, Julius began to blink his eyes a few times. He had a look of utter confusion—

—well, until his gaze found her.

That was when his entire body shook, and along with that, hers. Being that up-close, although he was desperately trying to conceal his surging emotions, she could see the myriad of emotions reflected upon his eyes—one of shock, fear, frustration, but most of all, disbelief.

That was probably the stoic knight templar’s most expressive moment so far.

She’d be tempted to laugh—if only she wasn’t so angry right now.

“We meet again, Mr. Julius. Probably a lot sooner than you’d expect, or hope.”

The grey eyes before her narrowed. Their glints were as sharp and deadly as a silver dagger would.

‘If looks could kill.’

In fact, that was probably what the knight templar was considering for her as he glanced towards his blade—a quick stab in the heart, when all else had failed.

But a quick look around revealed that his restraint hadn’t diminished.

Instead, it had only increased, with the witch straddling his waist. At that, Julius’ eyebrows blatantly furrowed in repulsion.

Their brief exchange before Julius had attempted to self-destruct revealed that the guy had an ounce of snark within his quiet, collected, self.

Nevertheless, when he decided to come back with a retort of his own, he realized something more shocking—

“—Hwha...!?”

—which was the witch’s thumb, inside his mouth, perched on his tongue.

“I was wondering when you’d notice. Did you seriously just realize it? Or is this mouth of yours accustomed better to the witch? My, then you should very well learn from it!”

The witch would like to believe that she was a respectful person in nature. If a problem were to occur, she’d prefer to resolve it in a civilized manner.

But, because the crisis she currently faced involved a certain dipshit that wouldn’t stop threatening her with death...

...By all means, everything she’d say and do starting from that point shall be engineered to piss that jerk off!

Thus, the witch’s onslaught began.

It started off with a soft push by her thumb.

“—Aahngg—! ...Hnggmph...”

Feeling the movement inside his mouth, the man retaliated instantly. However, from his pitiful whimpering at the end, it could be inferred that the retaliation yielded almost no result. Nevertheless, the man’s tongue kept pushing against her finger.

He didn’t hesitate to glare at her with a seething gaze. At the same time, those gray eyes also displayed an equal amount of exhaustion.

Said exhaustion was not only the reason why the witch freely plopped herself down on top of his sturdy body, but also why the knight templar couldn’t chomp down on her finger—despite the fact that it seemed to be his strongest desire in the world as of the present.

Under normal circumstances, regardless of the fact that his hands were bound, he could probably throw her to the ground with a simple movement of his waist.

However, at the moment, the witch doubted Julius could even close his mouth, much else bit down the ‘foreign assailant’ within. In the end, all he could do was leave it hanging open.

To the witch, that state of his was only natural.

After all, not too long ago, the knight templar had kissed both his magic and the world goodbye.

As for that magic he had dearly parted with...

“...Your magic tastes so delicious, Mr. Julius. I’m tempted to not leave even the slightest bit behind.”

She explained to the utter bewilderment of the knight templar.

To be honest, she was looking forward to seeing his reaction.

Contrary to her expectation, his gray eyes only widened for a bit, before regaining their ferocity. In an instant, the man had dispelled the emotion resembling fear within his eyes and turned his gaze into that of a challenging one.

The knight templar never ceased to amaze her.

Nevertheless, under the current circumstance, the amazement only lasted for a bit, and didn’t bring her any joy whatsoever.

She understood the meaning of his gaze.

“...No. I’m not asking you to thank me for saving your life or anything—”

—at the mention of saving his life, Julius showed an almost-grin. The only thing preventing him from forming a scornful grin was literally her thumb.

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“I have one question, though.”

That was when she pressed down on his tongue.

“—Nggh! Mmgghk!”

Julius, who probably thought his tongue had managed to persist against her attack, was shocked. He began to fight back, yet to no avail.

“I’ve clearly stated how wonky the church is; how none of these make sense—and yet, why? Why did you decide to throw away your life, instead?! This is why you church bunches—"

—nevertheless, the witch knew her frustration fell on deaf ears. Especially when the other side was more inclined to give her a tongue-lashing—except, literally.

Angrier than before, she could feel his tongue trashing under her finger.

However, rather than pushing back, the slippery organ had only managed to slide around her finger. Instead of anything, it was as if he was thoroughly licking her finger.

Of course, to the current angered witch, his aggravated state was sublime. She couldn’t help but tease him.

“Look at you, licking my finger like that.”

Almost instantly, all his previous actions ceased. Towards what was probably the vilest thing he had ever heard in the world, the knight templar’s brows creased as he sported a truly revolted look.

For someone as uptight as the knight templar before her, who believed the witches were the origins of all evils, having the finger of his archnemesis stuck inside his mouth must had been disgusting as hell—

—probably the equivalent of eating turd.

After he had ceased all resistances, there was also a pause to the witch’s assault.

The witch slowly took her finger out.

Within his eyes, which were transfixed upon her the entire time, was a subtle relief. Their sharpness had dulled, as his body relaxed a little. There was a brief pause as Julius, in a daze, gazed at her with his mouth still hanging open. Strings of transparent saliva could be seen crisscrossing inside the damp hole.

He probably thought that if he were to stop, his enemy would also do the same.

But all the witch did was insert more fingers.

That time, she inserted both her index and middle fingers.

“—Angghk! Anghmphh! Ah, ahgh, ah!”

Julius, who was about to take a breather, started to sputter.

Caught off-guard, Julius had no time to assume his fierce look. As such, all that could be seen from his eyes was unwillingness.

He truly looked wronged.

The powerless knight templar resorted to pleading.

His exhaustion had probably forced him to let go of most of his senses.

"—Nghk! Sto—! Plweassh—! Mmwh—!"

She said most, because despite the fact that his saliva was overflowing, he refused to swallow it. His witch-hating senses most likely forbade him. Thus, some of the transparent fluid dribbled down his chin, dripping to his collarbone, while the rest began to accumulate inside his mouth.

Despite this, the witch's relentless assault showed no sign of stopping.

"Why should I? This won't even match the frustration I felt when you wouldn't stop trying to kill me!"

Eat shit!!!

Deciding that repeatedly thrusting her fingers inside that warm mouth of his was the best way to cool her head down, the witch rapidly tried different methods to infuriate her enemy.

Her prime objective: to make him feel the same amount of frustration as she did!

"Do you hate this?"

As such, the witch ended up kneading, rubbing, and pinching his tongue in various ways.

Amidst that, squelching noises were made, to the extreme grief of the knight templar.

“Ah—! Ahmmph—! Mmm...” At some point, his voice had changed from that of adamant refusal, to cry of resignation.

Oh? He sounds really meek, there...

However, she also observed that his face was deeply flushed, for some reason.

As of the present, the things that were moving wildly weren't only her fingers, but also his entire body. He was desperately trying to shake her off. Despite this, the witch firmly pinned him down using her legs. Amidst the violent swaying of his hips, she couldn't help but notice something.

"...Just now, something hard is..." The witch didn't finish her sentence. But she clearly felt something stiff rubbing against her bottom. At her mention, she felt his body tensing up.

That alone made it worth checking.

Before she could turn around, however, something hard clamped down on her fingers. It instantly regained her attention.

The saliva drenching the knight templar's mouth had been mixed with red.

"Finally found your strength?"

The knight templar had bitten her fingers with all his might. From his eyes, it could be concluded that his fighting spirit remained intact.

"Why are you so desperate? Did you hide a weapon there?"

Seeing she had removed his belt, the reason for the stiffness she had just felt could only be that. The knight templar refused to budge.

The witch sighed, finally letting go of her unresolved anger.

“Your sword is right beside you. In the first place, I have no intention of confiscating any of your belongings. Besides, you said that you want to go to the witch's dwelling, right?”

The witch then muttered to herself. "For me to go through all these troubles..."

With a renewed resolve, the witch continued.

"Let's cut straight to the case."

Saying so, the witch reached for the previous letter from the church with her unoccupied hand. It had fallen to the side of the bed.

"Make a deal with me.”

A deal—

—or more precisely, a magical contract.

A soul-binding endeavor that could either result in success, or doom—be it unilaterally, or for both sides. It wasn't unheard of, and was fairly easy to do when all the necessary equipment was present. But it was also the kind of activity that wouldn't be conducted unless extremely necessary—basically, a last resort.

But apparently, all it took for the witch before him was a single touch.

The paper begun to emit purplish glow;

The paper which consigned his fate to the witch.

Once the contract was signed, all of his exits would be sealed.

Depending on the witch’s magical prowess—which had already been proven, he'd be reduced into a mere puppet; a being who was at the absolute behest of the witch—while his mind and sentience remained intact!

It was a fate worse than death.

Hence why he chose the latter—only for said plan to be thwarted. As an aftermath of his failed self-destruct attempt, he was left with barely any magic or stamina left.

In short, there was nothing he could do.

Julius realized the prickling sensation inside his mouth. While he had successfully injured the witch by biting her, said action had also caused the witch's nail to inadvertently dig into his tongue. The witch pulled her fingers out with ease.

While her fingers were still bleeding, at the tips of her fingernails, was someone else's blood—namely his.

He had just quickened his own demise, hadn't he?

As hopelessness began to settle in...

...Before his eyes, an astounding sight unfolded.

One by one, the alphabet within the letter detached itself and began to float in the air. They glimmered, and for a second, it was as if a group of fireflies were flying within his sight. Not to mention, the way each letter flapped itself resembled that of a butterfly.

Under the dim light, the otherworldly butterflies which glowed in purple spun around. It was as if an actual night sky had spread in front of him, with its constellations constantly rearranging.

Long after the letters had reassembled themselves into new words, Julius was astonished.

“Do you like that?”

He snapped back to reality as the witch showed that childish grin once again.

Wasn't planning to get caught in her pace, he didn't answer.

However, the newly assembled words piqued his interest.

"There are only two agreements: First, I'll never do you any harm, and second, you will stay here to assist me in investigating the bewitchment case. Any violation to the contract shall be paid dearly." Immediately after saying so, the witch applied their blood on the paper.

The blood stains glowed for a moment, marking the beginning of their dealings with each other.

While he was still trying to process what was happening, the witch rubbed her hand, which was dirtied by both saliva and blood, on his bare chest. Her action left bloodied trails on said body part.

"Gather yourself up. We will be having dinner as we discuss the case at hand about two hours from now. The shower is on the left of the hall, while the dining room is in the opposite direction. Not coming means not assisting!" While carrying the magical contract, the witch plopped down from the bed, and casually left the room.

***

The door behind her hadn't even fully closed yet when violent coughing erupted from within. After that, was the sound of retching as the person tried to purge himself from the taste of the witch.

The corners of the witch's mouth raised upward.

She truly admired that man's courage.

For him to dare to do that when the witch was obviously still close by.

It was either because he just found the witch to be that sickening, or because it was mockery on his part.

Knowing Julius, dare she said—a mixture of both?

"Afterwards, the sheet will need to be washed, and the mattress aired..." The witch made her way through the hall. However, she didn't make it that far before a sudden wave of dizziness assaulted her. Leaning on the wall as a mean of support, the witch, who started having double-vision, muttered to herself.

"The price you pay for a friend..."

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