Page 395
Story: City Of Witches
1.
After receiving approval from the Border Town’s Immigration Office and crossing the ‘Gate’, Siwoo made it to the meeting spot in just five minutes.
The sky was clad in a fragile, transparent blue, while the air was thick with the salty stench of the sea, mixed with the scent of oil.
Surrounding him were heavy machinery larger than ordinary buildings, hauling parts larger than any regular truck.
He only had fifteen minutes left before noon.
Siwoo lit a cigarette, checking the cloak draped over his shoulders.
The cloak was well-designed—elegant even—it was crafted in such a way that it wouldn’t restrict his arm movements, and equipped with hidden straps that could wrap around him at a moment’s notice.
In truth, the reason why he went to see Flora Arabesque was due to pure desperation—as if she was his only lifeline.
The countless artifacts used by the Witch of Desire had one thing in common.
They were all long-range weapons.
Even considering Maiden’s Loom into calculation, Siwoo was built for close combat.
The clovers alone couldn’t close the gap, so he needed another tool.
After piecing together the bits of info he’d gathered, he found an answer he needed.
He recalled a conversation he had with Flora when he had gone to order a swimsuit from her.
‘There’s nothing I can’t weave. The clothes I craft while giving my all can fend off most magic.’
And the passing comment from Countess Yesod.
‘If she were to keep devoting herself to her magic research, who knows how high her rank would have been… Since time immemorial, she has reached the 22nd rank…’
The moment he walked into the tailor shop, he knelt down and bowed his head.
He asked her to craft a ‘Mystic Code’-level cloak, fully utilizing her self-essence magic.
So how did she react to that request?
It went as well as one would expect.
Unlike with Periwinkle, the two had no personal connection other than her making him three different outfits.
His sudden, pushy request left Flora absentmindedly toying with her cigarette holder, looking all irritated.
Though it was understandable because his request was simply ridiculous. He basically asked her to make him a man’s cloak—an ugly one at that—that had the defenses of a Mystic Code.
‘Stop bothering me. Get out.’ That was probably the most polite way she could give out to reject him.
But luck was on his side.
Siwoo had a platinum card, a credit certificate from the Gemini Family.
And he handed it over to Flora.
Even Flora—who was normally indifferent unless something piqued her interest—gave him a meaningful smile and accepted the offer the moment she saw that. ???N??????
He didn’t even dare to imagine how much gold was transferred into Flora’s vault through that creditworthiness.
Of course, he felt bad for Countess Albireo, who had trusted him with the credit. But, if he made it back, he promised that he’d figure out how to pay her back.
“Phew…”
In any case, everything was in place now.
As he exhaled a puff of smoke and took a step forward…
The world froze.
A suspicious, unsettling silence hung in the air.
The workers, heavy machinery, and cranes that had been bustling around the shipyard all stopped, as if frozen.
And most shockingly, after taking that one step, the night had fallen.
This was a sign that he had crossed into an Interdimensional Barrier.
But it wasn’t an ordinary Interdimensional Barrier.
It was one that was created with an artifact that belonged to Bianca.
This was something that he had read about in the record.
His feelings were too tangled, too complex for his mind to sort out.
Even so, when those emotions spilled out, they sometimes condensed into a single sentence.
“I’m probably going to die.”
Fear started sinking in.
Terror soon followed.
He wanted to run away, even now.
Everything had happened so fast. He didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to the twins, his master, Sharon, or anyone else who mattered.
“But, I’d rather die than stay around doing nothing.”
Compared to this reckless charge, Don Quixote’s1 tilting at windmills seemed like a well-thought-out, cautious plan.
What kept him moving forward was his loyalty to a friend who had believed in him.
And anger toward the enemy who hurt that friend.
Like shaving off rough edges, he cast away his doubts and hesitation.
He removed his eyepatch and opened his eyes.
Before him was a massive ship, still under construction inside a huge dock.
Its size was comparable to several buildings merged together, and since its hull wasn’t fully submerged yet, it looked even more imposing than it should look like normally.
He checked his cloak one more time and slung his spear over his shoulder.
All the work lights were off, and a flickering light at the stern indicated this was the place. Leaping onto the ship, Siwoo tilted his head in confusion.
A container ship was made for cargo.
Since that was the case, normally, a container ship that wasn’t yet loaded with cargo would look like several giant baskets connected in a row, as they were designed purely for practicality and completely disregarded aesthetic or charm, unlike passenger ships.
But instead of the expected open cargo hold, what greeted him was a beautiful deck—as if it was a deck of a cruise ship—with warm lights.
It was far from the brutal, bloody sight Siwoo had been bracing for.
As he was still bewildered by the scene, someone appeared from the other side.
Instinctively, Siwoo gripped his spear tightly.
That someone—no, it wasn’t even a human. The thing was dressed in a sharp suit and polished shoes. It was holding an old-fashioned clipboard.
“Mr. Shin Siwoo, it’s an honor to have you.”
It was a skeleton with hollow eye sockets and a hollow nose.
Even its hands and wrists protruding from its suit were bare white bones.
If one were to imagine a skeleton from a fantasy story and brought it to life, it would probably look like this
It didn’t seem to have vocal cords, and its voice sounded more like air vibrating than any normal speech.
Siwoo assumed that it was probably a golem or a familiar.
With an absurdly polite tone, the skeleton bowed and handed him the clipboard and pen like a well-trained waiter.
“Before proceeding, would you mind signing here?”
“What’s this about?”
“Could you please sign here?
“Otherwise, entry won’t be allowed.”
It acted just like a low-level NPC that was programmed without much intelligence in it. Siwoo had no choice but to take the clipboard, but he stayed on high alert as he did.
The parchment-like paper had the name ‘Bianca Belleli’ written in bold handwriting.
There was nothing he could do but to sign it.
And the moment he pressed the pen to the parchment and wrote ‘Shin Siwoo’…
-Woong
He saw a wave of mana enveloping his body.
It felt similar to the one he experienced when making a contract with Eloa.
This revealed that the parchment itself was an artifact.
And it was likely one that bound those who signed it to a mutual contract.
“Thank you. Follow the carpet, and Lady Belleli will be waiting for you.
“Enjoy your time.”
After that, the hatch leading to the cargo hold opened.
A red carpet stretched down the hallway.
It led to a dim corridor, twisting and turning through the darkness where all the lights were out.
Each step he took felt like a march toward death, and with every breath he took, the heavy tension he felt thickened.
After passing through two doors and rounding a corner, the vast cargo—big enough to store dozens of container holds—finally came into view.
The crisscrossing steel walls and the massive space made Siwoo think of a giant’s jungle gym.
-Pop! Pop! Pop!
As Siwoo stepped inside, rows of LED lights—similar to those used on stage—lit up one by one.
Tiny lights wrapped around metal pillars and railings burst into vibrant colors, fireworks popped out of nowhere, confetti rained down, and lively music played
The once bleak and desolate space turned into something out of a foreign carnival in an instant.
“?Hola!”
Bianca Belleli appeared under the spotlight with a cheerful voice. Holding her skirt, she danced lightly to the beat of the music
“I’m so glad you came to my party!”
With her arms spread wide like an actress on stage, Bianca beamed at him.
But, seeing the unresponsive Siwoo, her excitement faded, and a pout appeared on her lips.
“Really? I worked so hard to prepare all this.”
I don’t give a fuck.
Whatever this lunatic Criminal Exile is indulging herself in, I don’t give a fuck.
No matter what kind of madness awaits me, it doesn’t matter.
There’s only one thing that I need to know.
“Where’s Takasho?”
Everything here looked exactly like what he saw through the communication orb.
Even down to the dark bloodstain under her feet that was illuminated by the spotlight.
“Just go straight to business? How about a dance first?”
“Takasho comes first.”
Bianca snapped her fingers, and with that, the thundering music and the wildly billowing dry ice smoke ceased, as if expressing her soured mood.
“I came on time. Brought the Red Branch, came alone. I even humored your little games from the entrance. Let Takasho go.”
“You really care that much about your friend?”
Her jade eyes looked at him pitifully, like he was the wrong guest at the wrong party.
Then, her lips curled into a grin, melting away like rotten cheese.
“Don’t worry too much. Takasho entertained me quite well.”
For some reason….
Even before she said those words, a sense of ominous foreboding crawled up his spine.
“Right after we shot the video, I drilled three holes in him and tossed him into the sea. You don’t need to worry if you can still save him or not.”
He had already expected this.
After all, she was a completely different breed from Xochitl. She wasn’t someone who tried to rectify her past mistakes due to regret, albeit in the wrong way.
Rather, she was someone whose intention was purely evil, just like Ea Sadalmelik. There was no room for redemption or for him to sympathize with her.
“You’re not as shocked as I thought. So, why did you come here? Did you fall for my face or something?”
Takasho wasn’t like Siwoo.
He couldn’t use magic, nor was he the first male witch of Gehenna.
To Bianca, once she used Takasho to shoot a video to lure Siwoo out, he became completely worthless.
In the Criminal Exile’s eyes, he had no rarity or value; he was just a talking insect.
That was probably why she had no qualms about breaking her promise and killing him so easily.
“Honestly, I don’t even want to fight. It’s like hitting a rock with an egg. Every time I fight monsters like you, I get hurt and it’s scary. At one point, I thought that maybe being treated like a slave wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Then, just hand over your weapon and come along quietly. Whether it’s as a research subject or a slave, I’ll take good care of you.”
But for Siwoo, it was different.
Takasho was his precious friend, someone who had tried to hold on to their friendship even though he had to suffer the worst kind of shit for it.
Siwoo felt the dam holding back his emotions break, releasing a flood he could no longer control.
Even if it was reckless…
Even if it was absurd…
Even if it meant walking toward his death…
The burning fire inside him refused to compromise.
“You really think that I’d just cooperate with you after you killed my friend?”
His golden eye, no longer covered by the eyepatch, began to absorb mana.
The overwhelming surge of mana rippled like a storm, swept through the area, growing into a full-blown storm.
“Fine. Bring it on.”
A thick shadow started wrapping around his body.
His armor, elegantly crafted in smooth curves, darkened to a murky black.
The tip of his red spear glowed so fiercely it looked like it might melt.
Through the gap in his helmet, his eyes burned with the rage of losing a dear friend, locked on the formidable enemy.
The opponent he could never hope to defeat.
“Just know you’re putting your life on the line too.”
“Ahahaha!”
Bianca burst into laughter, as if she had just heard a hilarious joke.
With that, the Ball of Death began.
Footnotes
1. Reference to the novel Don Quixote. ThereIt's a reference to a scene where Don Quixote mistook windmills as giants and charged at /genesisforsaken
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