Chapter 145
While Cyril berated him, Raul was thinking.
—Which would be worse, having a friend hate you or fear you?
Honestly, he hated both. But if he had to choose, he'd rather be hated.
Back when they'd only just become friends, he could've been happy about a declaration of friendship's end—"That's so friend-like!"—but now, a sincere declaration of no longer being friends would hit Raul hard.
So, for the first time in a long while, Raul decided to play the role of the 〈Thorn Witch〉.
Raul hated being feared by others, so he couldn't use his full power in front of anyone outside his family. No matter what, he unconsciously held back.
He'd argued to his grandmothers, "If a friend is in danger, I can go all out!" But that was a painfully hollow claim for Raul, who had no friends to begin with.
His grandmothers, displeased with that, gave him a lesson.
—If you cannot bring yourself to use your full power... then become the First Thorn Witch.
Since he was a child, he'd been forced to read the story of the first 〈Thorn Witch〉 over and over and over and over, until he was sick of it.
The arrogant, cruel, and wicked witch in that story had been drilled into Raul as he grew up, almost like a hypnotic suggestion.
So whenever he had to unleash his full power against his will, Raul escaped into the First Thorn Witch.
"'Come, let the rampage begin.'"
＊ ＊ ＊
The thorns surrounding Raul stirred and changed, growing thicker and stronger.
Blooming among them were pure white roses, beautiful to an almost absurd degree. But the sturdy vines writhing beneath them were so grotesque they sent a chill down the spine of anyone who saw them.
'Aaaah! This is all because you had to go and say something unnecessary! You idiot, you idiot, you fool!'
"Ugh..."
Cyril had no answer for the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 as it ranted while spectacularly ignoring its own faults, and hurriedly tried to put some distance between himself and Raul.
But then a sharp pain shot through his right leg. His foot stopped moving.
Before he knew it, Raul's thorns had wound around his ankle. Magic was being drained from his right leg in huge quantities—and at an extraordinary rate.
In a magic battle, taking a magic-infused attack reduces your magic. But Cyril sensed this was more than that.
It was just like that time with the peas. Raul's thorns were siphoning away Cyril's magic, and at a terrifying speed.
Cyril used a shortened chant to conjure ice arrows and tried to slash through the vines wrapped around his ankle.
But one strike wasn't enough. He tried again, then a third time, and only then managed to cut the vine.
(This is completely different from before...)
Until now, Raul had controlled the vines himself. So when the thorn wall obstructed his vision, his aim suffered too.
But these vines were different. Every single one had a will of its own and was targeting Cyril.
These thorns were a kind of monster, independent of Raul.
"'The human body is a sack of flesh filled with blood and magic. My thorns never mistake the scent of blood and magic.'"
Raul, who had been watching Cyril struggle, murmured in a sing-song voice.
A cruel smile floated across his beautiful face.
(Who is that?)
When Cyril tried to move, dizziness washed over him.
He had very little magic left. He'd spent too much time cutting through the vines.
The 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 in Cyril's hand let out a terrified, wheezing voice.
'Oh, what a terrible thing... That is the real, genuine 〈Thorn Witch〉...!'
"No, he's been the real one from the start."
'No ordinary person would look at that stupid-looking man grinning foolishly and think he was the 〈Thorn Witch〉!'
It was an utterly prejudiced opinion, but Cyril had had a similar thought when he first met Raul, so he swallowed his retort.
More than that, Cyril had no time to waste on unnecessary words.
"What's happened to Raul? He's clearly acting strangely..."
As if answering Cyril's question, the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 groaned, 'Hmm.'
'He is probably releasing his power by convincing himself that he is the first 〈Thorn Witch〉. That is no longer mere suggestion; it is practically mental interference magic. No doubt those witches of the Roseburg family planted it in him.'
The Roseburg family witches—he was probably referring to the "Grandmothers" Raul had mentioned.
Cyril couldn't help furrowing his brow.
"Isn't mental interference magic a semi-forbidden art...?"
'The Roseburg family's devotion to their First is deeply ingrained. They would use forbidden arts or black magic if it meant preserving the First's power. Those cunning witches are adept at slipping past the law. They would never leave evidence that they'd used a semi-forbidden art.'
What a horrifying thought.
Cyril silently shuddered at the depths of darkness within the Roseburg family, a distinguished line of mages.
The Raul Roseburg Cyril knew was always carefree, laughing cheerfully.
Cyril couldn't imagine what feelings Raul held toward his own family.
'The Albrights, who carve curses into little children, are bad enough... but the Roseburgs are hardly normal, either.'
Just as the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 murmured thoughtfully, Raul—or rather, the 〈Thorn Witch〉—narrowed the eyes like a cat that had found its prey.
"'Oh, what an unusual toy.'"
Suddenly, pain shot through Cyril's right hand.
When had it gotten around him? A rose vine was coiled around his wrist.
Before Cyril could cut it, a thin vine slithered over the back of his hand, moving with the deftness of an insect's legs, and plucked the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 from his finger.
"Sophocles!"
'Nooooo!'
A middle-aged man's voice let out a piercing scream.
Ignoring the pain in his wrist, Cyril reached for the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉.
But his hand couldn't reach it, and the vine holding the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉 retreated into the thorn fortress.
"'Black... I like black. I'll add you to my jewelry box later.'"
The 〈Thorn Witch〉 lifted the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉, smiled languidly, and hooked the ring onto a thorn.
Other vines covered that thorn. The small ring was swallowed by the thorns and vanished from sight in an instant.
"Sophocle..."
'Nooooo! If I have to be captured, at least let it be by a beautiful woman with a generous bosom... Why a man... Why a man... Ohhh...'
It seemed safe to leave that alone for a while. Having decided that, Cyril studied Raul.
The 〈Thorn Witch〉 standing before him looked like Raul, but seemed an entirely different person.
Every gesture was feminine, from tucking the hair against the cheek behind an ear to sweeping aside the hem of the robe.
The manner was that of a bewitching woman who knew her own beauty and seduced men.
It made Cyril dizzy with discomfort to see Raul, who was normally so rough and careless, perform those gestures so naturally.
To be blunt, Cyril thought it was creepy.
And yet, those gestures suited Raul strangely well. Perhaps it was because the First had passed down that beauty.
The 〈Thorn Witch〉 raised the right hand and flicked her fingers. For an instant, Raul's tanned hand looked like a woman's delicate one.
"'Come, eat.'"
The thorn vines surrounding the 〈Thorn Witch〉 intertwined, forming a small dragon.
Cyril had seen one before: a monstrous dragon made from a mass of rose vines.
That one had been much larger, but the vine-rose dragon before him was quite small. At most, it was the size of a bull. In terms of dragons, it was a small species.
He thought he might be able to defeat it—but the very next moment, the vine-rose dragon was already right before his eyes.
It should have been more than a dozen paces away. And yet, it closed the distance at a terrifying speed, baring its green fangs.
Cyril instinctively thrust out his left arm. The vine-rose dragon's jaws snapped shut, biting into his left arm.
If this hadn't been a magic battle, it would undoubtedly have torn his arm off.
Cyril endured the pain without screaming and chanted in broken phrases.
"...Y-you... freeze!"
With his bitten left hand, he unleashed an ice spear.
The enormous spear pierced the vine-rose dragon's body, pinning it through.
But it didn't stop moving, nor did the dragon's teeth loosen their grip on Cyril's left arm.
"'Is that all?'"
The 〈Thorn Witch〉 mocked Cyril's desperate struggle.
Vines stretching from the vine-rose dragon slid silently around Cyril's neck.
"—Ghk, ah, guh..."
The roses devoured his magic, draining it all at once. He couldn't breathe.
His vision turned white.
＊ ＊ ＊
"Cyril-sama!"
Monica, who was maintaining the magic-battle barrier, was panicking.
The magic-battle barrier nullified physical attacks, but there were occasional loopholes.
The thorn vines' restraint counted as a binding spell, so the physical-attack nullification barrier didn't activate.
If Raul had been in his usual state, he would have been careful not to choke Cyril. But the Raul before them had no such mercy.
At this rate, Cyril would suffocate to death.
(I have to do something... but...)
To save Cyril, Monica would have to deactivate the magic-battle barrier.
But if she deactivated it now, the thorns would pierce Cyril's neck.
(What should I do...?!)
Isaac tapped Monica lightly on the shoulder as she panicked.
"...Aike?"
Isaac put his index finger to his lips in a "quiet" gesture. Then he pointed behind Cyril.
A tree branch behind Cyril. From it, a gold-and-white weasel leaped down without a sound.
＊ ＊ ＊
(Am I... going to lose?)
Cyril's hand, which had been gripping the thorns, went limp and dangled.
"Told you. It was reckless."
A cool female voice rang out from behind him.
Before Cyril could recognize whose voice it was, a finely crafted ice sword flew through the air and sliced apart the vine-rose dragon, along with the vines coiled around Cyril's neck.
The thorns that had taken Cyril several strikes to cut with his ice scattered like paper.
Someone effortlessly hoisted Cyril's staggering, collapsing body onto their back.
In the edge of his vision, he saw pale silver hair.
"Hey, Cyril. I live on your magic, after all. I can't just stand by and watch you in danger, can I?"
When he lifted his heavy eyelids, he saw the silver-haired young man carrying him, and a pale blond woman standing beside them.
Ture, Pike. Before Cyril could say their names, Pike turned her gaze toward the thorn clump that had swallowed the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉.
"That ring... It's the root of all evil. Maybe we should just destroy it."
'Ice Spirit, you...! I am an ancient magical artifact! An-cient mag-i-cal ar-ti-fact!'
Pike coldly addressed the 〈Knowledge Keeper's Key〉, which shouted back energetically from within the thorns.
"I don't care about human affairs or the value of ancient magical artifacts. All I need is to live quietly with Ture. If you get in the way... I'll eliminate you."
"Pike, Pike, before that..."
Ture turned his gaze forward.
Blocking their way were the Man-Eating Rose Fortress and the 〈Thorn Witch〉 who controlled it.
At some point, the thorns encircling the 〈Thorn Witch〉 had multiplied until they formed a small castle.
Not only that, green vines intertwined to take human shape. There were about thirty of them.
The vine-rose soldiers had arms as sharp as spears.
"Wow. There are so many now."
When Ture said that mildly, the master of the Man-Eating Rose furrowed the brow slightly and glared at Ture.
"'...My nemesis. Wretched white dragon. I'll wring every last drop of blood from your frail body.'"
The green eyes glaring at Ture held unmistakable loathing.
For some reason, that malice was directed at Ture, not Pike, who had cut apart the vine-rose dragon.
(Did the first 〈Thorn Witch〉 have some kind of history with the white dragon?)
As Cyril wondered in confusion, Pike stepped forward and swiftly waved one hand.
The ice daggers Pike controlled appeared in a neat row in the air.
Each ice dagger was as beautiful as a sculpture. There were about fifty of them.
Flaunting her overwhelming power as a spirit, the Ice Spirit Asshel Pike declared,
"I won't let you lay a finger on Ture—or Cyril. I don't care about the ring."
"'What a bold Ice Spirit... You, too, shall become sustenance for my thorns.'"
The vines extending from the thorn castle multiplied further and intertwined smoothly, forming vine-rose dragons.
—There were ten of them.
Even one would have been a threat, and now ten vine-rose dragons and more than thirty vine-rose soldiers were surrounding Cyril and the others, multiplying as they did.
The 〈Thorn Witch〉 raised the staff with a sadistic smile.
"'Now, devour them!'"