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"Name your price, then,"

Dorothy had grown tired of standing, so she sat cross-legged on a lamppost and continued to look down at the tall, cold witch below her.

However, the Frost Snow Lady herself was somewhat baffled; her witch’s mind was struggling to accept such a turn of events.

What the hell, someone cracked the forbidden curse of another world in just two minutes? Were all those Spell Masters before just pulling my leg, pretending it was harder than it actually is?

Pshaw, what am I thinking? Obviously, it’s Lord Clown who is being rather outrageous.

It took a while for her brain to reboot and recover from the shock that was neither scientific nor magical, and to come back to her senses. She was somewhat conflicted about the Phantom King’s inquire for a price.

She hadn’t expected that the stone tablet hid an Eleven-Ring Forbidden Curse, which meant the matter wasn’t something she could handle alone, and she’d need to go back and have her mothers convene the Elders for a meeting to discuss it.

After all, even among forbidden curses, the value of one curse to another was not to be compared on the same day; although Eleven-Ring was only one ring higher than Ten-Ring, the gap was probably greater than from Zero-Ring to Ten-Ring.

As a top Witch Battle Group, the Wild Hunt Clan, through tens of thousands of years of war and accumulation up to this day, had amassed quite a few Ten-Ring Forbidden Curses—not a hundred, but dozens nonetheless. But they had only four Eleven-Ring Forbidden Curses up to now, and as for Twelve-Ring, there was only that one left by the Ancestral Elder who had once been a Great Sage.

Therefore, an Eleven-Ring Forbidden Curse was considered a treasure of great clans of witches, extremely precious.

After all, while common magic wasn’t worth much in the Witch World, as even high-level magic was taught directly in compulsory education, once you got into the realm of forbidden curses, it became truly difficult. The Council of Sages kept a strict control over forbidden curses.

Let alone an Eleven-Ring, even a regular Ten-Ring Forbidden Curse was hard to come by for any Great Witch starting from scratch without some talent.

It really wasn’t a matter of money, but one of learning qualifications; you needed a sufficiently high Witch Rank. And to increase your rank, you had to contribute to the Witch World and earn rank points and such.

And after earning enough rank points, you still had to rack up library points, which were even harder to earn. You either had to do your own research, or pluck the fruits of others’ research from another world in exchange for points...

In short, it was very difficult.

And now, a valuable Eleven-Ring Forbidden Curse was laying right before her, and it was said you could learn it just for some extra money, complete with hands-on teaching. Such an opportunity would be irresistible to any witch in the world.

If it weren’t for being in the Judgment Court, and if she wasn’t currently undergoing an assessment, the Frost Snow Lady would have already called her two mothers over with the Spellbook to discuss the matter in detail.

"Um, may I know what you want, Lord Clown?"

The Frost Snow Lady, still young, pondered for a long time but couldn’t decide what kind of offer would satisfy the high-ranking individual before her.

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She had lost all her previous arrogance from when she was picking faults, and was now overly docile, for fear that she might accidentally offend this big shot—who could decipher an Eleven-Ring Forbidden Curse from another world in mere minutes. Was this someone she could afford to offend?

If someone told her now that this Lord Clown was actually an undercover Great Sage—a high figure experiencing common life—she would believe them. After all, who else but a sage could pull off such an outrageous feat, Frost Snow Lady couldn’t think of anyone else.

It couldn’t be the Witch King, could it?

Emmmm, it’s not like that’s impossible.

After all, in the Witch World, it was common for someone lucky to encounter one of the Three Kings in disguise and get a wonderful adventure out of it. Such legendary stories were plenty. Frost Snow Lady couldn’t help but wonder if today she might become the protagonist of such a legend.

So, let the big shot name their own price. Whatever they say, she won’t bargain at all.

After all, such a big shot wouldn’t carelessly name an outrageous price, and her family’s meager fortunes would be negligible in the eyes of such a person.

Dorothy: "....."

Seeing the Wild Hunt Princess, who had gone from haughty to exceptionally compliant in an instant, the homebody witch felt that the other party had probably misunderstood something.

But the poverty of her past also limited her imagination. She just didn’t know what was the right amount to charge, so she let the other party make an offer. But why did you kick the ball back to me?

So, what should she ask for?

Money? Witch Gold Yuan?

A homebody witch so poor she struggled to support her three children did indeed need money. But it was Dorothy, a student of the Witch Academy, who was poor, not the Clown Grand Inquisitor. Wouldn’t it be too crass for someone of her current standing to talk money?

What about various high-level resources?

Laughable, with her current level of magic power, no matter how many high-level resources she was given, they would be more than she could use, and would just gather dust in storage, to be used later.

Maybe ask for some territories?

Well, that wasn’t too bad either, as then she wouldn’t need to purchase territories herself. But territories could easily compromise her disguise. She couldn’t possibly assume the role of a Lord while disguised as a Clown.

Tsk, it’s such a hassle. She thought about it and realized that aside from needing money, there wasn’t much else she was short of for the time being.

Was she really going to outright ask for gold?

The homebody witch fretted for a long while before she finally turned her gaze to the anxious Frost Snow Lady.

Well, now she knew what she wanted.

"Then I want you," said the golden Phantom King.

Frost Snow Lady: "..."

Now it was her turn to fall silent, and after the silence came indignation.

How could this damned big shot be so perverse? Did she really enjoy toying with people that much?

She didn’t go so far as to misunderstand that this Lord Clown had any ill intentions towards her. After all, she had a somewhat clear sense of self. Sure, she was indeed beautiful, but in the Witch World, nothing was cheaper than beauty. A bigwig like her could have beauty attendants at the snap of her fingers; there was no need to lust after her body.

Still, even without misunderstanding, this was the first time in her life that someone uttered the words "I want you" to her. She was still a young girl, not that old, and couldn’t help but feel a bit shy about it, right?

At her age, she was also longing for romance, and a little witch of her years often fantasized about some ridiculous love story like a domineering Sage falling for her.

But as a straightforward steel lady from the Wild Hunt Clan, the Frost Snow Lady knew her worth. Even if a domineering Sage really took a fancy to her, was she a good match?

She wasn’t a match at all.

The only thing that might interest a Sage was not her as a person but her status as the future Lord of the Wild Hunt.

So, could you, O stinky big shot, not speak clearly? Just say you need the Wild Hunt Clan to do some work for you. Why say something as ambiguous as "I want you"?

The face beneath Frost Snow Lady’s mask was slightly flushed.

After all, when it came to relationships, her people in the Wild Hunt Clan didn’t fuss over notions like love and common interests, as other witches might. They only cared about one thing: whether the other party was strong enough.

Every year their tribe held a matchmaking festival, which, predictably, involved arena battles. Interested witches would defend the arena, and those who fancied the Arena Master could challenge them. If a challenger succeeded, then the marriage deal was considered done.

You could even knock the Arena Master out with a club and carry her off home then and there.

Since they were a battle-oriented race and population was important, Wild Hunt witches generally married early, usually right after coming of age, taking to the arena as early as sixteen.

And here was the Frost Snow Lady, already twenty-seven and still single, considered an old maid within her tribe.

Why? Well, it could only be said that she was too strong – strong to the point of having no friends.

She attended the matchmaking festival every year, but no one ever managed to defeat her. In earlier years, some tried, but as the gap between her power and her peers widened, people lost interest in challenging her. It seemed pointless to fight a battle that couldn’t be won.

As childhood friends paired off one by one, the Frost Snow Lady grew anxious. But anxiety was futile. After all, the only ones in the tribe who could defeat her were the elders, and she couldn’t very well marry one of those, could she?

Seeing no hope within her tribe, she reluctantly turned her gaze to the broader Witch World. Why else would someone from the typically introverted Wild Hunt Clan venture out and become a Duel Star?

Was she really fighting matches? She was practically holding a public courtship.