Witch's Sacrament
Roberta's expression stiffened.
She watched as the young horse pressed its face against Ulrich's chest, crying. At a glance, it looked like tears of joy. Anyone who didn't know better would smile warmly and think, "Ah, it must have reunited with its owner after a long time."
But the truth was entirely different. That young horse had originally been human, and Ulrich was someone it had met for the first time here. The reason it cried was because he was the only one who had realized the truth.
When one has become something other than human, and then meets the only person who understands that misfortune—how could one possibly hold back their emotions?
Ulrich stroked the young horse and said,
"Let's move. There are too many ears listening here."
The three of them and one horse—no, four people—headed to the stable attached to the inn. The inn was bustling as lunchtime approached, but the stable was quiet. Only their three horses were tied there.
"Write your name on the ground."
Ulrich said this as he untied the young horse's reins. The horse scraped the dirt floor with its hoof. Its unshod hoof clumsily traced out letters.
Marika—that was the name she had been given as a human.
Then another name appeared: Matthias—Marika's father.
After examining the two names, Fritz spoke.
"Matthias is the lord of Kir Castle."
Ulrich nodded.
"A vassal of Meyer?"
"…Yes. He's especially close to my father among his retainers."
According to Fritz, Matthias was a noble who had served as the lord of Kir Castle for generations, and he shared a bond almost like brothers with the Count of Meyer. Fritz himself had met him several times and spoken with him.
"I've heard that Matthias has a daughter. But she's weak… she couldn't leave the castle, and my father often worried about the succession because of that."
"I see."
Upon hearing this, the young horse approached Fritz and rubbed its face against him. Though they had never met before, it seemed happy to meet the son of someone its father served.
A moment later, the hoof wrote a third name.
Oxana Narses.
Next to the full name, the word witch was added. The earth was carved deeper than before, as if insisting that she—the witch—was the one responsible for turning the girl into this.
She, this witch, did this to me.
Out of jealousy, she turned me into something no longer human, and while my father was away, she tried to offer me as a sacrifice to the heavens.
Marika lifted and lowered her leg as if trying to reach her own back, gesturing for them to look at the wounds on her body.
The countless scars covering the young horse's body were the marks she had gained while barely escaping death.
"Narses…"
Roberta repeated the surname, frowning.
"She must be quite a powerful witch."
"Indeed. A mage reveals their level through their name."
They looked again at the full name, Oxana Narses.
The name Oxana was unfamiliar. But the surname Narses was not. It belonged to one of the Five Sages who laid the foundation of magic in humanity's first age.
Listing all five of their achievements would take far too long. But one thing was important to know—mages append the name of their master, or one of the Five Sages, to the end of their full name.
"Um… what do you mean by that…?"
Fritz asked cautiously, unable to follow the conversation.
"Does that mean she's a disciple of someone named Narses?"
"No. It means there is no one else who could be her master but Narses."
Mages usually take their master's name as their surname. It was a tradition—the master would grant their own name once they deemed their disciple accomplished enough.
However, there were rare cases where a disciple surpassed their master. In such cases, they often rejected their master's name. Mages were an exceedingly prideful lot. They refused to bear the name of someone they considered inferior, and instead adopted the name of the founder of their lineage—the Five Sages.
Oxana was such a case.
The fact that she used the name Narses meant her lineage traced back to him. It also meant she believed herself to be an exceptional mage.
"What a tragic thing."
"Tragic?"
Roberta tilted her head.
"Narses was the most open-minded among the five. He believed that anyone with talent should be able to learn magic, and that people should be treated with that kind of openness. Roberta, you've heard those stories as well, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have. Most mages today inherit Narses's lineage. Because he accepted such disciples, people gathered regardless of poverty, class, or race—and they became so numerous they formed a city."
"Correct. That city became the city of mages. Though its influence has weakened, the lineage still continues."
"Then why do you say it's tragic…?"
Ulrich shook his head.
"Look at how that name is being used. The compassion he once held for the ignorant is nowhere to be found. It is used solely to display one's own arrogance."
As he spoke, he gently stroked Marika's face—the girl who had become a horse.
"If she understood even a fraction of his heart, she would never have dared to do this to the child."
What had been cast upon the girl was a vulgar form of magic—what people commonly called a curse.
"To cast such a thing on another when it is difficult even to use on oneself… she must be a mage of considerable skill. And yet, in a world where many mages couldn't even perceive it at this distance…"
He said this talent had been used for something so base.
Roberta agreed. When else had she seen magic capable of transforming someone into an entirely different species? Only twice in her life—the first being when the dragon Narbakayani had taken human form on the Ice Peninsula.
Of course, the magic cast on Marika was not of the same level as Narbakayani's. The fact that Marika was under some kind of spell could be perceived even by other priests or mages—not just Roberta.
In contrast, a dragon was truly worthy of the title a mage bearing a fragment of myth. Had she encountered Narbakayani elsewhere in human form, she would never have realized he was a dragon.
"So what do we do now? Is there a way to reverse it?"
"The most common method is for the one who cast the curse to undo it themselves."
Would that even be possible?
The words caught in her throat.
As if reading her thoughts, Ulrich added,
"It would be difficult."
"Is there any other way?"
"There is… but it's not a very good one."
Ulrich turned to Fritz.
"For now, let's meet this mage. Fritz, guide us to Kir Castle."
Lord Matthias of Kir Castle was tall and handsome, with well-defined features. Despite being the father of a young girl and having taken a second wife, he was not yet forty. When Ulrich arrived at Kir Castle under the alias Armin of Dithmarschen, Matthias personally came out to the castle gates to greet him.
"Did you say your name was Armin?"
He likely had never heard the name before. But since it was prefixed with Dithmarschen, he couldn't ignore it. That designation was reserved only for the children of the Duke of Dithmarschen.
The king of Osnover was Ulrich's adopted son, and Matthias's own lord had served the duke's family for generations. This was not something to dismiss lightly just because the name was unfamiliar.
As a result, Matthias appeared tense. His eyes and mouth formed a smile, but the sweat on his forehead was not from the summer heat.
"That's correct. Ulrich, Duke of Dithmarschen, is my adoptive father."
"My apologies. I had heard that the Duke of Dithmarschen had many adopted children, but I do not know all their names…"
Matthias glanced briefly at Ulrich, who remained seated on his horse.
"Well, that's understandable. My father is rather… indulgent. Even I don't know all of my elder siblings, so it would be stranger if you did know me."
Ulrich smiled faintly.
Watching from the side, Roberta felt her skin crawl. Even though she had been told in advance that he would use an alias and act, seeing it in person was still hard to get used to.
In a way, it suited his appearance. Ulrich looked about her age. In fact, it would have been stranger for someone with such a youthful face to speak of years and experience. If she hadn't known his true background, she wouldn't have found anything odd at all.
It can't be helped. It's better to hide things this way.
Ulrich's name was far too famous.
Outside Osnover, few people might recognize it, but within, there was no one who didn't. He could have revealed his identity and interrogated Matthias and Oxana directly, but instead, he chose a more certain path—even if it meant taking a detour.
And so, the name Armin was used. When Roberta first heard it, she had immediately asked if it was a name he had used before. His reply had been, "It would be quicker to find a name I haven't used."
"This is my escort, Roberta."
Roberta greeted them dressed in plain clothes. She too was concealing her identity, acting as a young knight.
"And you already know Fritz, don't you?"
When Lord Matthias spotted Fritz among the group, his eyes widened.
"Young master? No… to meet you again like this."
"It's been a while, Lord Matthias."
The suspicion that had lingered in his expression vanished instantly. After all, it was none other than his lord's son vouching for them—there was no reason left to doubt.
"You've grown quite a bit. And you resemble the Count more and more."
"Do I?"
"Yes. Blood truly cannot be hidden. When the Count sent you to Dithmarschen, you were still so young… seeing you grow up so healthy brings me relief."
At the sight of the lord wiping the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, Fritz gave an awkward smile.
"Have you come here on your way to the main house?"
"Yes. I'm on my way to see my father, but we were delayed. We were hoping to stay for a night—would that be alright?"
"Of course! If it wouldn't be alright for you two, then who would it be alright for?"
At that moment, Ulrich, who had been listening to their conversation, spoke.
"If it's not rude to ask, who is the lady beside you?"
The person he indicated was a woman standing next to the lord.
"Oh, how careless of me."
She wore a long dress that nearly touched the ground. Since the moment she had come out to greet Ulrich's party, she had stood silently. When addressed, she lowered her head slightly in greeting.
"This is my wife, Oxana Narses."
Oxana kissed the back of Ulrich's right hand.
"Narses… it's my first time meeting someone who uses that name as a surname."
"Is that so? I would have thought that the Duke of Dithmarschen would have many mages under his command."
"It's a barren land. Even mages quickly grow weary of it and leave."
Ulrich smiled faintly once more as he looked at Oxana.
"And yet, to have such a woman as your wife—you are truly fortunate."
"Yes, it seems Lord Hestio has shown me great favor."
Matthias laughed and leaned close to Oxana. She lowered her head shyly.
At that moment, Roberta, who had stepped back a few paces to observe the conversation, narrowed her eyes.
Oxana's gaze had drifted away from the conversation toward something else.
"..."
Her eyes landed on the horse Fritz was riding.
That horse was Marika—the girl who had been turned into a horse by Oxana's curse. With a bridle and saddle, she carried Fritz as if she were merely a slightly small horse. To an outsider, there would have been no reason to pay her any attention.
She's not looking because she senses something strange.
Roberta carefully observed Oxana's reaction. Throughout Ulrich and Matthias's conversation, Oxana chimed in when appropriate—but her attention kept slipping back to Marika.
And each time, a flash of emotion surfaced and vanished in an instant—bewilderment, anger, disgust. They were fleeting expressions, easy to miss unless one was watching closely.
If she had merely sensed something unusual due to the flow of mana, there would have been no reason for such expressions.
Oxana had realized that the horse Fritz was riding was Marika.
Of course she would. After what she's done.
Roberta subtly signaled to Fritz.
At that, Marika, who had been quietly staring at the ground, lifted her head and met Oxana's gaze.
The moment their eyes met, Marika let out a cry and raised her front legs violently. Startled like a horse stung by a bee, she thrashed about. Fritz clutched the saddle tightly, struggling not to fall.
"Fritz! What's wrong?"
Ulrich asked with a frown, feigning ignorance.
"I don't know! I think it's acting up again!"
Fritz sighed as he pretended to calm Marika down. To any observer, it simply looked like a horse misbehaving.
But Oxana saw it differently. The moment their eyes met, she had seen Marika's reaction—and her suspicion turned into certainty. While everyone else's attention was focused on Marika, Oxana twisted her expression and glared at her.
"It seems the young one hasn't been properly trained."
Matthias clicked his tongue as he looked at Marika.
"Yes, we had to pick her up in a hurry in Tenov…"
"I see."
As Ulrich was about to explain further, Oxana suddenly cut in.
"You said you got her in Tenov?"
"Our original horse ran into trouble. We managed to find this one somehow, but as you can see, her temperament is… problematic. Well, we were prepared for that."
A strange light flickered in her eyes.
"My dear, why don't we offer them some help?"
She suggested giving them another horse.
"That won't be necessary."
Ulrich waved his hand and refused.
"I wouldn't want to trouble the lord unnecessarily."
"But… isn't that horse too unruly?"
"As you just saw, it's not a major problem. And for Fritz, handling such a horse will be a good learning experience."
She tried to continue, but Matthias cut her off.
"He said it's fine."
The lord looked at Oxana with a stern expression. She had interrupted several times and was now bordering on insistence—he could no longer tolerate it.
Oxana lowered her head without a word. She bit her lip tightly, as if in frustration. She looked anxious.
Of course she did. Until just before their arrival, she must have been certain it was all over.
If things had gone according to her plan, Marika should have been slaughtered by now. And yet, here she was again—right in front of Matthias, the one person who absolutely must not find out.
From Oxana's perspective, Roberta thought, this situation must be her last chance before disaster.
After all, neither Matthias nor Armin's party seemed to have realized Marika's true identity. That was why she had tried to offer another horse—to take Marika back and dispose of her. But she had missed her chance right in front of her.
If Armin's party left like this?
It would only be a matter of time before what she had done was exposed. There were countless priests and mages in the world—people sensitive to mana. The moment someone saw Marika, just as Roberta had, they would sense that something was wrong.
"You said you'll be staying for just one night?"
Lord Matthias asked.
"Yes. Meyer is just ahead, so we plan to leave early tomorrow morning."
At the mention of leaving the next day, Oxana's shoulders trembled slightly. As she followed the lord into the castle, she cast a sharp, hostile gaze at Marika—the young horse carrying Fritz.
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