I was terrified—absolutely terrified. I thought I was going to die.

Even though my master had warned me, Enorthians really are terrifying.

When Dorthe returned to her room, she leaned her back against the wall and pressed her hand to her chest.

For a moment, it felt like her heart had run away and she didn't know where it had gone.

‘Master, there are too many terrifying things in this world.’

The gazes she felt while dancing, the scornful glances from other women, the dirty catcalls from men, the men who approached whenever she visited a village, the rocks that were thrown at her.

She had experienced so many frightening and horrible things since leaving the forest, but nothing had made her feel this shocked and scared.

This time, she had really thought she was going to die.

“...”

Finally, tears began to pour down her cheeks.

Once they started, they couldn't be stopped.

There was no end to them.

All the resentment and fear she had suppressed for so long spilled out, accompanied by her sobs.

She tightly covered her mouth with both hands as she cried, but Muel stirred in his sleep.

He shifted in the darkness, rustling the bedding as he woke up.

“What’s going on?” he said, his voice laced with irritation.

“...N-nothing...” Dorthe tried to answer, but her words came out as more sobs.

Muel sluggishly reached out, lighting the lamp.

A dim glow filled the small, shabby room, and the shadows on the wall swayed like they were dancing.

Dorthe stared blankly at the shadows as Muel spoke.

“Don’t be an idiot... don’t cry...”

Master...

She hurried to his bedside, kneeling before him as Muel, staring blankly at the wall, continued.

“A witch doesn’t cry. Don’t cry... Didn’t I teach you? If you’re sad, smile. If you’re in pain, smile with a cunning expression. When your heart is breaking, laugh even louder. A witch grows stronger by laughing...”

“Master.”

Her tears flowed even harder.

Haha.

Amidst her tears, Dorthe laughed, and Muel slowly began to speak again.

“A witch doesn’t cry. Don’t cry. Didn’t I teach you? If you’re sad, smile... If you’re in pain, smile with a cunning expression... When your heart is breaking, laugh even louder. A witch... grows stronger by laughing... A witch doesn’t cry. Don’t cry. Didn’t I teach you...”

The words her master used to always say echoed in an unfamiliar voice.

Knowing that her life was nearing its end, her master had manipulated Muel’s memories to leave him with these words.

The late witch, Enchantment Dorthe, had left her young disciple with this parting gift, along with her name. It was something Dorthe would never again hear spoken in her master’s true voice.

Dorthe sat on the cold floor, silently looking up at Muel.

Then she closed her eyes.

Amid Muel’s repeating words, her master’s voice resonated in her mind.

A witch doesn’t cry. Don’t cry...

‘I know, I know, Master. A witch laughs. I always laugh as a witch should, as you told me to. I laugh cunningly, pretending I’m not hurt.’

But even when I shield myself with laughter, this world is far too terrifying, cruel, and overwhelming.

Dorthe muttered softly to herself.

‘I want to go back to the forest.’

Though her master was gone now and it was empty, she still wanted to return there.

To that place filled with memories.

Muel continued to repeat the same words until Dorthe’s sobs eventually stopped. He stared blankly at the wall for a long while.

“...”

It was finally over.

Dorthe wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood, stepping back from him.

It was time for her to become once again Witch Dorthe, to put on the mask of her master.

Just like her master had always done, she needed to smile cunningly, to laugh as if nothing could ever hurt her.

Muel stared at the shadow on the wall for a moment longer, then frowned.

“You woke me up with your noise. Where have you been?”

“Hmm, just a night walk?”

“If you have time for that, think about what to do with that Enorthian.”

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“Hehe, I know.”

“Tch.”

Muel didn’t question that she was the witch Dorthe, his master. He believed it without doubt and flopped back down on the bed.

The face of the old witch Dorthe, which used to exist in his memories, was now gone without a trace.

That slightly mischievous, wrinkled face of his old master now only existed in her mind.

Sigh.

Everything that had been done to Muel, her master had done.

All that remained was the final step—to completely overwrite his memories.

It was the gift of two witches for Muel, who had wandered into the forest and brought joy with his chatter and his beautiful music for many years. And it was the last task her late master had left her.

If she succeeded in overwriting his memories so that he could live on his own, Muel would forget everything about the witch Dorthe.

Then there would be only one Dorthe left.

The old master’s trace would be gone.

Even that single phrase, left behind in Muel’s memory as a parting gift, would disappear.

On that lonely night, the young witch Dorthe leaned out of the small window and gazed up at the dark sky.

Recalling the small bird that perched on the Enorthian man’s head, Dorthe sighed softly.

‘That man is lucky.’

She remembered her master telling her that phoenixes are deeply affectionate creatures.

If her master said so, it must be true.

She didn’t know how a phoenix, a bird that lived in the deep forest far from human reach, had ended up in his hands, but it would likely stay with him for the rest of his life.

Until it died, that bird would never forget the man.

‘I wish I had a bird like that.’

Then, maybe even a witch who lives alone in the world wouldn’t be lonely.

Dorthe exhaled softly into the cold night air and looked up at the moon.

Ah, so lonely.

It’s so lonely.

‘Master...’

She called out in her heart, but there was no response.

If a witch was truly a being who defied the order of the world, she should be able to answer, even from beyond. But it had been years, and Dorthe had never heard a reply.

After staring at the night sky for a moment, Dorthe turned around.

It seemed that Muel was having a nightmare.

He muttered in his sleep, his body twitching as if in pain. Occasionally, strange sounds, almost like screams, escaped him.

After confirming that he wouldn’t wake up, Dorthe took a deep breath and spat out the small wooden piece she had kept hidden inside her cheek.

It was time to erase her true appearance.

She wiped off the thick makeup she used to hide her freckles and pale skin.

After using a damp cloth to clean her hair, which had grown dry and frizzy from frequent dyeing, she lay down.

Only then did she realize how much her neck hurt.

She thought that maybe the Enorthian man had left a bruise.

Recalling the sensation of those thick fingers, Dorthe involuntarily shivered.

It was as if she had been plunged into an underwater abyss made of air.

She could feel her life slipping away through his fingers.

The coldness in his eyes had brought fear from deep within her core.

‘It was really terrifying.’

Not being able to escape from danger because her power had no effect—that was the first time she had experienced such helplessness.

And besides her master, it was also the first time she had been touched by another person.

“...”

In such a frightening situation, she had a strange thought—that a person’s skin was warm.

Even in that terrifying and dangerous moment.

As if following the memory of his touch, Dorthe ran her fingers over her neck several times before drifting to sleep.

----------------------------------------

The room had already been paid for the entire week.

Paying upfront didn’t make it any cheaper, but it did come with a glass of wine or beer at each meal.

Given my financial situation, I should take whatever I could get for free.

I had packed up all my belongings before leaving since I didn't know when I’d return, and the innkeeper had warned me not to leave anything valuable behind.

I had already told the innkeeper yesterday that I’d be away for a few days, so the stay could be extended accordingly.

It was convenient that the innkeeper used to be an adventurer himself. He knew the process even better than I did and had taken care of it in advance.

As I left the inn, I saw the bard and the witch huddled in a corner, whispering about something.

Were they preparing to head to the plaza, or were they scheming about how to kill me?

The bard quickly looked away as soon as he saw me.

Perhaps he still feared my mother on a subconscious level.

Thinking of his circumstances, I wished for him to regain his sanity and live a normal life, whether his memories were altered or not.

The witch, Dorthe, waved her hand lightly at me.

If she were an ordinary person, she’d probably be quite frightened after what happened yesterday. But maybe being a witch made her immune.

Somehow, the whole situation left me with a strange feeling.

Once I reached the guild, Jenny took me to a reception desk that was by the wall.

Unlike the other desks, this one was lower and wider.

“Yesterday, you said you wanted to sell some hides, right? You can leave them here. We have a separate person who handles purchases. From now on, if you want to get items appraised, you can come to this desk.”

As Jenny said, there was a young man sitting behind the desk.

There were various tools laid out beside where he sat, probably used for appraisals.

The young guild employee swallowed nervously as he looked at me.

Scared, huh.

Not everyone was as brave as Jenny.

I flipped over my cloth bag, spilling out the hides, and the man’s eyes widened.

His previously nervous expression changed dramatically.

He picked up each hide, inspecting them carefully, and then looked at me with an expression of utter despair.

"How could you treat such precious items like this! They're all wrinkled! Jenny, look at this! Stuffed in recklessly, handled so roughly! Good grief, the luster is all gone."

“...”

He looked up at me as if I were his lifelong nemesis.

“This is unacceptable! These hides must be handled delicately. You won't get their proper value if you treat them like this. You'll end up with a low price.”

I mean, I’m sorry, but I'm not a leather craftsman. These hides were just byproducts of hunting for food.

I couldn't do any better than that.

But the young guild employee was too agitated.

He kept murmuring such precious hides, such precious hides, touching them with a regretful expression while giving me a resentful look.

Hmm, it didn’t seem like the right time to say anything.

It felt more like he was talking to himself, even though he was addressing me.

Noticing my troubled expression, Jenny smiled and spoke to the guild employee.

“Ed, can you still salvage them?”

“...Of course. I might not be able to restore them to the highest grade, but I can bring them to near-top quality.”

“Then do that.”

“...”

“How long will it take?”

“Well, these hides are clearly top-quality at first glance. Especially this white fox fur—it’s so fine it could be sold to royalty. There aren’t many craftsmen who can handle hides of this caliber, so if I hand it over to one of them...”

Ed, the employee, mumbled as if talking to himself, but Jenny cut him off and asked again.

“How long?”

“It will take at least a week just to assess how much can be restored. After that, we’ll have to negotiate the craftsman’s fee and determine the final value... It’ll take at least two weeks, maybe up to a month.”

Wow, that long?

I thought I’d just receive the money today, but it seemed the purchasing process was more complicated than I’d expected.

As Ed began inspecting each hide one by one, Jenny turned to me.

“Rafa, when you sell something to the guild, you have two options. One is to sell it right on the spot. That’s good if you need money urgently, but it might mean taking a loss. Of course, sometimes the opposite happens, but it’s usually not in the seller’s favor.”

“...”

“The second option is to have a professional appraise the item properly. If there are any damaged parts, they get repaired, and we determine the price including those costs. I think this option will be more profitable for you this time. What do you think?”

“Please do it that way.”

Jenny smiled.

“That’s a good choice. Most people still choose the first option because it takes less time, but it often means they lose out in the long run.”

Wouldn’t that mean the guild ends up with fewer profits?

Jenny smiled, as if she could read my thoughts.

“There are other guilds in this city—the merchant guild, for example. It’s in our best interest to offer better prices to keep adventurers tied to our guild. Besides, our main income comes from the commissions we get when adventurers complete quests. Item purchases are just a secondary source of income.”

When I asked how much the commission was, Jenny gave me a faint smile.

“We take 40% of what adventurers earn from their work.”

“...”

These robbers!

I should have known—no organization in the world really cared about the well-being of others.