Episode 381: Jess Milo (1)
Azonne’s [Greedy Arbiter] increases the probability of judgment the more information it has on the target.
The designated target was the “Master of Divine Spirits,” and to obtain information about their divine spirits, Azonne became fervent in witch hunts.
The Great Witch Massacre.
Notorious acts within Hell Grime and the witch hunts themselves—Behind all of them was Azonne’s shadowy work.
Witches possess the eyes to read divine spirits, because a high percentage of them were those who served the gods.
Azonne used the captured witches as spiritual scapegoats to extract divine spirit information, and in doing so, amassed astronomical wealth by selling that information.
The birth of the “Scapegoat Witches,” cursed by divine spirits, was deeply tied to Azonne’s greed.
Kwajjik—!
Natasha shattered the wagons one by one with a fierce glare.
Every time she ripped off iron doors locked with heavy chains, witches were revealed behind them.
Even though the doors had been broken down, the witches remained hunched and unmoving.
They had long been dulled by despair, their eyes void of hope.
Seeing this, Natasha bit her lip and clenched her fists tightly.
Blood dripped between her trembling fists. So great was her anger, she didn’t even feel the pain.
“You bastards..."
She needed to let out her rage somewhere or else this suffocating emotion would never subside.
Her gaze landed on the masked men lingering near the wagons—Black Market henchmen.
There seemed to be around fifty of them.
Just as a murderous intent glinted in her eyes, someone placed a hand on her shoulder.
It was Arthur.
She turned to glare at him.
“Don’t touch me.”
“The ringleader’s head has already been severed and displayed in the plaza.”
“Just because Azonne is dead doesn’t mean the Black Market vanishes.”
“The Black Market is merely a tool. The direction of the blade depends on who wields the hilt. And right now, we hold that hilt.”
“Hundreds of witches were captured. Look.”
Natasha’s face twisted as she pointed at the wagons.
“Only thirty returned alive. Only thirty.”
Arthur met her gaze in silence. After a moment, he sighed and took a step back.
“I won’t pretend to understand the grudge witches carry. Do as you wish.”
If the Black Market henchmen were all slaughtered here, it would be hard to persuade the executives later.
They would hesitate to join once they realized there were people within the coalition who wanted them dead.
'We can always find another way.'
It would be a difficult path, but Arthur chose it. After all, the witches were comrades and friends who made him who he was today.
As Arthur backed away, Natasha clenched her teeth and raised her fists. A fierce aura began to radiate from her.
“Hiick!"
Overwhelmed by her aura, the Black Market henchmen’s legs gave out, and they collapsed. Some staggered, trying to flee into the forest.
Arthur, knowing this place would soon become a bloodbath, wore a bitter expression.
“Le, Levina!”
A shrill cry pierced through the forest. Lily ran toward one of the wagons, on the verge of tears, and clung to a white-haired witch, bursting into sobs.
The witch, Levina, who had been blankly staring into the void, reacted to Lily’s presence.
Seeing her cry, Levina let out a faint, “Ah…” and gently wiped away Lily’s tears.
“You’re alive! You’re alive!”
Levina’s eyes, as she wiped Lily’s tears, slowly widened.
Life returned to them, and she soon touched Lily’s face.
“...Li, Lily? This isn’t a dream...?”
Lily’s crying had a strange power—one that began to open the hearts of the other witches.
Starting with Levina, the hunched witches in the wagons began to react to her weeping.
And then—
“Sob…!?”
As if swept up in Lily’s emotions, the witches began to cry as well, weeping bitterly.
It was the moment repressed emotions burst forth through tears.
Before long, the area around them became a sea of tears.
Watching it all in silence was Natasha.
She muttered a quiet curse and slowly loosened her clenched fists.
“You’re stopping?”
“No.”
With a frown, Natasha began walking toward Lily.
“The tears of witches are more precious than anything.
I just don’t want to stain a day like this with blood on my hands.”
Leaving those words, Natasha joined the witches at the wagon and began tending to them. Arthur silently watched her.
The witches had been saved—But the wounds left behind by the witch hunts would likely never heal.
“The Black Market henchmen should be bowing to Lily right now.”
Fenry approached Arthur.
She had stayed back during the clash with Natasha, but now appeared like a ghost once the conflict had settled.
Arthur gave her a quiet glare.
She spoke through her pipe.
“I refuse to butt heads with that brute of a witch.”
“You think that excuses you?”
“They’re bastards who deserve death anyway.”
“Well, true.”
Arthur lightly gestured toward the Black Market henchmen. Sensing his intent, they fled into the forest in a panic.
Contrary to her earlier rage, Natasha did not pursue them. The witches’ tears had momentarily cooled her fire.
But if Black Market members showed themselves again, she would explode like a ticking bomb.
“We should remove the executives from the mansion."
They had planned to keep them longer to improve relations with the coalition, but if Natasha struck, they’d end up a pulp.
Fenry, clicking her tongue, turned back toward the mansion.
“I’ll be back. Might be gone for a few days. Take care of the World Tree side.”
“Don’t worry. Just let me know before you start raiding the vaults.”
“Why? Think I’ll skim off the top?”
“Of course. Isn’t it obvious?”
“...You’ve grown up. A lot.”
With a dry chuckle, Fenry slipped into the shadows of the forest.
Once the executives were gone, she would shadow the finance chief and track the Black Market’s money flow and vault locations.
If they could seize Aintrier’s fortune along with the Black Market’s, they would hold all of Azonne’s former wealth.
When that happened—
‘I’ll give them proper compensation.’
Arthur’s eyes turned to the witches. Sacrificed simply for possessing mysterious powers.
He vowed silently to reward them for the suffering they had endured—and for all those who never returned.
A short while later, the mansion staff Arthur summoned came rushing into the forest.
With their help, the witches were slowly moved to the mansion.
Natasha briefly met Arthur’s gaze. He gave a small nod and turned toward the mansion.
The inside of the mansion was already empty. Fenry had moved quickly—no trace of the executives remained. New guests were soon settled in.
Thirty witches arrived in the first-floor reception room. They were too weak to move without assistance.
Given their unique powers, it seemed certain curses or restraints had been placed on them to prevent escape.
Arthur summoned the mansion’s head steward, and a refined elderly woman approached with a tense expression.
“You called for me?”
“Are there any healers in the mansion?”
“We keep two skilled healers on standby at all times.”
“Call them. Treat these women with the utmost care. They are VIP guests. I want the best hospitality.”
“U-understood.”
As the steward left, Arthur approached Lily. She was examining the witches with a focused look.
“How are they?”
“A bit tricky, but if we have time, I can unravel the restraints.”
“That’s a relief.”
The witches were transferred to their rooms on the first floor.
Lily, watching them leave, looked up at Arthur.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I’m thankful.”
“There’s no need for that. I only did what was necessary.”
“But most humans wouldn’t even do that much.”
“Well, I’m not most humans.”
“Yeah. Arthur is special.”
With a serious nod, Lily made Arthur chuckle. He handed her a basket of cookies.
“Cookies. Go share the ones you like. The witches will love them.”
“Okay!”
Lily dashed off toward the quarters. She, Natasha, and the witches surely had a lot to talk about after being trapped for so long. It was best to leave them be for now.
Once the room emptied like a receding tide, only Dorneph remained, lounging on a luxurious sofa.
“Where’s Karl?”
“He went with the executives. Said he’d investigate the Black Market’s intel network.”
It seemed he intended to work with Fenry to map out the Black Market’s information infrastructure.
With Karl helping her, the job would go faster—not a bad decision.
“When will you leave the mansion? I may need to go to the World Tree.”
“Something urgent?”
“Sharbadin plans to visit the World Tree.”
“So?”
Arthur asked, and Dorneph sipped his tea with a hollow cough.
He couldn’t bring himself to say he missed her. Arthur gave a wry smile and nodded.
“We’ll leave once the witches recover enough to move. Three days should be enough.”
“Three days...”
Leaving the frowning Dorneph behind, Arthur ascended the stairs to the second floor.
Seeing the weakened witches reminded him of Keros.
Arthur entered a large room at the end of the corridor. A mystical beast resembling a Shiba Inu lay sleeping on a soft bed.
Its expression twisted in pain, it seemed to be suffering from nightmares.
Arthur reached out a hand toward Keros.
Wuuung!
Golden waves flowed from the sacred emblem engraved on his hand, gently wrapping around Keros.
The Siren’s Hymn.
Sacred power infused with the power of Order bathed Keros in light. His painful expression gradually relaxed.
His small belly slowly rose and fell as he drifted into a calm sleep.
Arthur had been regularly channeling sacred power into Keros, yet the beast still hadn’t regained consciousness.
“I fixed the cracks in his soul, so why won’t he wake up...?”
Arthur’s sacred power contained the Authority of Order—a power that restores things broken by chaos. It had helped mend Keros’s soul, distorted by trauma.
“They said one of his heads was cut off. There must be more to it.”
Arthur had been horrified when he first heard Keros’s head had been severed by the Sword Demon.
But Lily had told him there was another head, thanks to her Moonlight Grace, which eased his panic.
Even as a spiritual beast, losing all his heads would’ve been fatal.
Luckily, Keros had awakened into the main body of Cerberus, narrowly escaping death.
Arthur believed he would regain consciousness eventually.
‘Still… Moonlight Grace…?’
The battle between Karl’s group and the Sword Demon had left a deep impression on Arthur—not because of the Sword Demon’s power, but the might of Moonlight Grace.
As the [Great Witch’s Talent] bloomed, Moonlight Grace had awakened too, triggering immense evolution in spiritual entities.
‘If it even induced Giant Tribe unification… her synchronization rate must be over 90%...?’
Karl had said he, too, had learned new powers by synchronizing with his spirit body.
Arthur quietly touched his chest—Retonicalus’s heart.
‘75% sync rate? If I’m exposed to Lily’s Moonlight Grace… would Reto’s heart react?’
He remembered the one time he fully synchronized with Retonicalus, the Heart of the Immortal, when confronting the King of Greed—and lost consciousness.
Since then, there had been no response.
“I need to know what state Reto is in so I can be prepared.”
Then—
[There was nothing seriously wrong.]
“…Huh??”
Suddenly, Reto answered.
The being who had said nothing in Aintrier now spoke.
Arthur, surprised, responded.
“Reto! When did you wake up?”
[It’s been a little while.]
“Then why were you silent?”
[I had to hide my presence.]
“Hide your presence? Why...?”
[As soon as synchronization was complete, a being that detected my existence appeared.]
Retonicalus—the Immortal.
“Is that a big deal?”
[The one who identified me appeared in Aintrier. The moment I sensed them, I had no choice but to hide.]
“To hide your presence… who the hell are they?”
Arthur didn’t understand most of what Reto had said.
What did hiding presence mean? Who was this being that tracked exposed energy?
Then, Reto named the one responsible—
[Jess Milo.]
The King of the Dead.
The name of an Absolute.