Descending the revealed stairs that lead underground, I twist my lips into a grin.
Beat me? No way I’d let them win that easily.
I continue down, brimming with confidence, my steady steps sure of victory.
“Oh, it’s you, huh. It’s been a while.”
The one I’m after glances back at the seat they’re occupying.
Long golden hair slicked back, puffed into a bundle. Purple irises.
Pure white robes. But the tiny body doesn’t match the size, hanging loosely and completely swallowing the hands in the sleeves.
A characteristic monocle in the face, puffing on an opulent pipe, looking like an old distinguished gentleman. Totally inappropriate.
My thoughts were simple. Instead of searching this stupidly huge library, it is faster to ask the most knowledgeable person who knows the location of every book.
In other words –
“Go ahead and relax. Stay as long as you want.”
The strange woman who called herself Head Librarian-Francesca.
“Rarely do you come on your own. Does this mean you’ve finally fallen in love with me? My tireless love letters have been rewarded, it seems.”
“I’m here on business. And I will destroy all your letters by the way.”
Hearing this, she invites me to sit down and takes the magically materialized seat.
“I’m happy. My skin was itching because I missed you so much. Let’s have a passionate night together.”
“Don’t tell lies so easily. You said you didn’t even need to sleep, right?”
She plays dumb and says, “Did I? Memory fails me in old age,” as I stare at her.
“For someone so old… you dress young a lot, don’t you?”
“Hmm, rather insensitive. Weren’t you taught not to mention a woman’s age?”
“Rest assured. I don’t see you that way.”
Let me add, no one sees you that way.
How unfortunate, Francesca shrugs.
She looks about 10-11 years old. But don’t be fooled. Despite the form of a young girl, the content is completely different. Seeing her in this place, it’s even questionable if she’s human at all.
When I came before, she was an adult blonde beauty. Her appearance changes every time, so this probably isn’t the original form either.
I can recognize her by the white robes, but please stop, it’s bad for my heart.
“As blunt as ever, I see. We’ve exposed ourselves to each other, and yet… old women are unsightly?”
“Don’t say strange things. I’m the victim here.”
I don’t want to remember what she’s digging up. You’re the one who came into the bathroom while I was in there. I got out right away and nothing happened, so don’t make it sound suspicious.
“How disappointing. I enjoyed sleeping in your arms.”
Uncertain whether she really feels regret, Francesca shrugs her shoulders.
…As I mentioned before, I broke into this magic library illegally in the past.
The reason was that there was magic in there that I really wanted to learn. So I entered the restricted areas, smashed the guardian dolls that attacked me, sneaked past their sight every night, and read until morning.
After I was caught and reprimanded, I was (forcibly) made a janitor under this woman – helping with undesirable tasks.
This ranged from waking her up in the morning, to helping her dress, to singing lullabies at night to lull her to sleep. I was also sometimes used as a test subject for magical research. When I was ordered to wash my body in the stupidly large bathtub, I refused, but it took quite a mental toll.
Besides, the Magic Library doesn’t belong to anyone. The one who created this place died a long time ago, and no public successor has been named. In other words, this woman just claims to be the head librarian.
Yet somehow she’s not attacked, even though she’s outside the rules…normally she’d be kicked out without question, but that’s not happening.
She’s probably gotten some kind of special permission from the creator of the room, I’d guess. Exactly what that is, I don’t know.
“I won’t overstay. As soon as I ask what I need, I’ll leave.”
“You are so cold. Well, it sounds interesting, so go ahead. What do you want to ask?”
“Two things. First, about this power.
I manifest the black magic power and materialize Predation. Seeing this, Francesca’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh my. How very interesting.”
Francesca looks at the writhing Predation from different angles, her eyes shining with curiosity, unable to restrain her scientific curiosity.
“Can you tell anything?”
“Hmm. No doubt it’s not existing magic. Also… no casting involved.”
She grasps the nature just by looking, without even using Perception… This woman really is no ordinary person.
“Then perhaps a blessing? No, even so…never heard of such a thing. What can it do? How did you acquire that power?”
“I don’t really know either. After destroying a strange woman like a witch recently, I was suddenly able to use it. I can control it with my will and move it around like an extra appendage. That’s all I get.”
I also show the mark on my forehead that closely resembles a holy crest. I avoid giving some details, not fully trusting her.
“I see. Then it might be something like this.”
Francesca looks intently at my forehead and nods, then snaps her fingers, a book floating nearby turns pages and stops on one.
“This book describes the ‘witches’ slain by heroes of the past.”
“Witches?”
“Witches refer to the humanoid demons. Like demons, they have antagonized mankind since ancient times and still threaten human life today. Highly intelligent, able to communicate with humans, but for some reason, witches prefer to avoid working with humans. The reason remains unknown.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Listen. Granted, there are no cases of witches joining hands with humans – that is, openly.”
Francesca continues.
“There is only one precedent of the hearts of a witch and a human resonating.”
“I see, I see. And what is that?”
No matter what I’m told, with zero interest in witches, I can only respond like this. If someone from the Hero Church was told this, they would surely fly into a rage, but I don’t really care.
“Hmm, don’t you understand? Take a look at this page.”
I look at the book.
“!?”
Seeing it, I involuntarily gasp.
Nothing remarkable is written. Just a brief description that a witch who once got along with humans ended up being slain by a hero.
But there was something else on that page – a photograph. A blurry image that did not even capture the witch’s face, only her back profile.
But in that blurry photo, the back of the witch’s left hand was exposed.
It had a “black mark” etched on it, very similar to mine, yet subtly different.
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“What is that…”
“Your mark closely resembles what the witch once had. In that case, one thought comes to mind – are you really human?”
Francesca puffs on her pipe, her sharp gaze fixed on me.
“Of course. I have no horns or wings. Obviously a handsome human.”
“Some witches are indistinguishable in appearance from humans. That’s no proof that you’re different.”
“Even if you say that…”
Me, a witch? I don’t get it, but…
“First of all, this mark only appeared recently. It’s not like I’ve had it forever.”
“…Hmm, that’s also true, I suppose.”
Francesca readily backs down. A joke, huh.
“I don’t care if you’re human or witch…aside from that, the woman you apparently killed seems to be involved. Any other clues?”
“Nah, nothing in particular.”
Francesca throws up both hands and says, “Then I’m stumped.”
We’re back at square one, understanding nothing new. I just understand that I don’t understand this creepy power. Conversely, I could say that I’ve learned that I don’t understand something unknown.
“So, just that for business?”
“Oh, right, one more thing. I totally forgot.”
That’s right, the other thing was actually more urgent.
I’ll put this Mark stuff on hold for now. No clues even after coming here, so there’s no point in thinking about it any further, I figure, and no matter how much I think about it, the answer won’t come. That’s how I am – I give up thinking.
In fact, a big reason I came was to ask about the mark, but also about the problem with Rafine and the others. If I do not solve it, my heart will have no rest.
I asked why Rafine and the others can find me despite my countermeasures against Rafine’s clairvoyance. Then Francesca said
“Hmm, that’s love.”
-said, completely serious.
“Huh?”
“Love, love. Also called romance. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”
“Huh?”
I asked her to repeat. What does she mean?
Asked to explain from the beginning, Francesca shrugs her shoulders. Stop making that “Geez…” face. Super irritating.
“In short, they can find you because of love.”
“Now even less understandable.”
Too abstract. Please explain in a more understandable way.
“Let me explain it from the beginning. Now, life itself is…”
“Wait, that’s too basic. Just give me the main points.”
“So demanding.”
I didn’t say explain from the beginning. That would take hours!
“Then… I’ll touch on fate a little.”
“Fate?”
“Yes. Fate refers to [a being beyond reason that predetermines the fortunes and misfortunes of life forms, events] and such. The idea that all of life’s actions and encounters aren’t accidental, but rather predetermined inevitabilities.”
“I see.”
Yeah, I still don’t get it.
“According to this premise, all human encounters are necessities guided by fate. …Well, whether they’re really inevitable or not is, of course, beyond us.”
“Then don’t start with such grand theories. It only confuses me.”
“Wait, the important part comes next. While the existence of fate itself remains uncertain… there is magic that concretely brings about inevitable human encounters.”
Francesca continues eloquently.
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