Witch Taming System-Chapter 50: Fiore [2]

"Uh...?"

"Come in."

Fiore said it casually as she gestured forward.

What she called a makeshift camp didn’t match what Lancel expected. This wasn’t something thrown together for temporary shelter.

It was a proper wooden hut, something that would take ordinary people several days to build.

"...Did you make this?"

"Yeah? Why would there be a ready-made camp in the Wastefield?"

"Right..."

The moment Lancel stepped inside, the contrast in smell hit him immediately.

While the Wastefield generally carried a musky scent mixed with medicinal herbs, creating a sticky odor, Fiore’s hut smelled clean and fragrant, like hyacinths.

"Are you hungry?"

Fiore spoke as she moved further inside.

"I’ve got Darkmaw, Wild Griffins, Fangscale Lizards... even a bit of Ironhorn Venison if you’re not too picky."

She said it like it was nothing, like those weren’t things that would normally take entire parties to hunt down. As if Lancel hadn’t just risked his life trying to kill one Darkmaw.

"...You stocked all of that?"

"Mhm. It’s better to have options. You never know how long you’ll be stuck here."

Truly, the difference between a witch and an ordinary human was astounding.

Thinking back, he had put in a lot of effort just to kill the Mother Silkbane, only to find out later that Mei, an apprentice witch, had been keeping it like a pet.

And now, Fiore, yet another apprentice witch, had killed a Darkmaw right in front of him with just one spell.

A sense of excitement boiled within Lancel. If he grew stronger, if he learned more spells, would he reach that level of power?

"Then... a Darkmaw..."

"Alrighty, then~ Make yourself at home~"

With that, Fiore headed into what appeared to be the kitchen area and began pulling out various cooking utensils.

’She even has a ladle...’

If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought Fiore had lived here all her life.

Lancel rubbed the spot on his chest where her spell had hit him earlier, the pain gradually fading, as he took a proper look around the hut.

There was a kitchen, a working sink that seemed to run on magic, a bed, and a dining table. While there were no closets or storage furniture, witches were technically permanently clean.

They could simply cast a spell that freshened them up instantly, as if they had bathed and laundered their clothes at the same time.

Of course, that took away the satisfaction of a proper bath. That was why there were established bathhouses in Riviere that ran on hot spring water. Nothing beats a good hot bath.

"Oh, right. What kind of request did you pick up?"

Fiore’s voice came from the kitchen.

"Not many witches put up requests that lead to the Wastefield. Though my master did recently post one. It might be the same one?"

"It was to procure seven Fangscales."

"Eh... seriously? I think that’s the one my master put up. No one took it, so she just sent me instead. I was supposed to gather some herbs and pick up Fangscales along the way."

"And you can’t find any way out?"

"I’ve tried. But I think a witch is behind this. Once I realized that, I kept my movements low. If they’re hostile, moving carelessly would just expose me."

"...?"

She said that, but she had built an entire hut out here as if she were begging for attention.

"I heard a commotion in the forest," she continued. "I thought I might get an advantage if I traced it, so I followed the source. That’s when I found you."

"My chest still hurts..."

"Hehe~ Sorry about that~ If a witch set all of this up, then it’s not going to be harmless. I can’t afford to lower my guard."

All things considered, Fiore came off as a rather lax witch. Or maybe it was just that Lancel’s impression of witches had been skewed beyond repair.

At some point, the exhaustion caught up to him.

Without realizing it, Lancel had drifted off to sleep.

"...."

When he finally woke up, the first thing that reached him was the scent of something like roasted pork.

Lancel opened his eyes.

Fiore was seated nearby. She seemed to be studying something in a notebook.

Lancel rubbed his eyes groggily.

"Oh, you’re awake."

She spoke without looking up immediately, as if she had already noticed.

"I tried waking you, but you were completely out of it. Oh, and the food’s gone cold, but I can heat it up for you."

"...It’s fine. I’ll eat it like this."

Seeing that Fiore didn’t even bother looking his way, he chose not to disturb her any further.

Fiore gave a small shrug at that, acknowledging it without much interest.

The food was already laid out on the table. Even without reheating, the smell was still rich enough to make it clear it had been prepared properly.

"Oh..."

The taste was solid. Not overly seasoned, not lacking either. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was better than anything he could put together himself.

"You cook often?" Lancel asked.

"Mm. Enough. I usually cook for my master. Aside from magic, she’s not really good at anything else."

Lancel took another bite before speaking again.

"Does your master even know what’s going on in here?"

"Since I’ve been gone for a day, she should’ve realized something’s wrong by now."

"And what if she gets trapped here like us?"

"Master’s not that naive. She’d find whoever’s responsible for this before she even finds us."

"Ah... I see... You mentioned there might be a hostile witch around. Wouldn’t they be able to find this place?"

"Don’t worry. I’ve set up an interference barrier. This hut only shows itself to those I allow."

"...Is that so."

"Anyway..."

Fiore set her notebook aside and leaned forward, resting her head over her crossed arms on the table.

"Tell me more about Faust. Is it true she’s as much of a workaholic as everyone says?"

Lancel paused for a moment, blinking as he considered the question before answering.

"I can’t say those rumors are false... If Faust isn’t working, then she’s either asleep or studying..."

"Oh, oh... and is it true she’s advanced so far in magic that her mana can freeze even time itself?"

"I’ve never seen that happen. I doubt it’s even possible."

"Didn’t you say you were close?"

"I said we’re acquaintances. That doesn’t mean I know everything about her."

The whole time Lancel ate, he answered as many questions as Fiore had about Faust.

She was clearly a fan, but Lancel couldn’t quite understand why.