Anagin Chronicles

Chapter 025. The Witch (2)

A harpy was a species with the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a raptor.

Their most distinct traits were their massive winged arms, razor-sharp talons, and striking—often intimidating—appearance.

They typically lived in remote forests or mountains, but that didn’t mean they avoided humans.

As intelligent—and as greedy—as humans, they would often ambush travelers or raid villages for food and treasure. Some, the cleverer and more ambitious ones, would go so far as to demand tributes from nearby settlements under the pretense of “offering protection.”

“The witch we’re going to meet is one of those. She knows magic, and she’s greedy to the core,”

As the robed woman explained, Anagin nodded in understanding.

“Then I got it wrong. Not just a bird bastard that talks like a person, but more like a bird bastard that ruins fields.”

In his mind, harpies had been downgraded from curious creatures to nuisance beasts.

“Mister, harpies aren’t monsters or beasts. I can’t say much about witches, but harpies themselves are a divine species, like nymphs or humans—acknowledged by the gods.”

Anagin wasn’t convinced, but what the robed woman said was true.

Among the species governed by the gods, humans were the most numerous, but not the only ones.

There were nymphs and satyrs, who served the gods directly, dwarves, known for their exceptional craftsmanship, and harpies—a divine race in their own right.

But Anagin didn’t care. To him, they were nothing more than field-wrecking pests.

Spanich sided with Anagin’s sentiment.

“I don’t know much about harpies as a race, but this particular witch is no better than a monster. According to the people I met before coming here, there’s evidence she’s eaten humans… You’d know about that, wouldn’t you, young lady—being a mage?”

Spanich had noticed that the robed woman was the witch’s apprentice.

It wasn’t exactly hard to guess. She had just said herself that the witch was her former master.

Realizing her slip, the robed woman’s face stiffened.

Spanich tried to reassure her.

“Don’t worry. My goal is the witch alone.”

“That’s a relief. Just so you know, I’m a victim too. She tried to eat me.”

As Spanich and the robed woman cleared up the misunderstanding, Anagin cut in.

“Can I ask something?”

“Ah, of course. What is it?”

”Why did you suddenly suggest we team up together?”

“Ah…”

Spanich let out a short sound, looking embarrassed.

He had, after all, just told Anagin to turn back for his own safety, and now he was asking to team up.

Spanich explained.

“To be honest, I thought you were just a practitioner blinded by the desire for public merit.”

“And now you don’t?”

“Because I realized you’re the Hero of the Outskirts.”

“?”

Anagin’s confusion only deepened.

‘Hero of the Outskirts’?

When he asked, Spanich respectfully elaborated about the growing reputation spreading through the nearby regions.

After hearing the explanation, Anagin asked for confirmation.

“So, because I defeated the Bender Caravan, then Deodia, and even the Monster Merchant, people are calling me the Hero of the Outskirts… Is that it?”

“Yes. And I’ve even heard that you refused any reward and instead shared your spoils with the common folk. Truly, a role model for a hero.”

Apparently, word had spread that he’d given the Bender Caravan’s fortune to Rio, the City Lord, and sold the defeated monster carcasses on credit.

It was clear the rumor had twisted the story completely.

When Anagin tried to correct him, Spanich only chuckled.

”Haha, your modesty is excessive.”

“……”

Anagin gave up on correcting him. The man didn’t seem like the type to change his mind easily.

Sure, if he really wanted to explain, he could have—but that sounded like far too much work.

“As a fellow practitioner, I’m honored to meet someone like you. Won’t you join me in defeating the witch?”

Anagin hesitated for a moment, then agreed.

There was no real reason to refuse.

They were heading the same way anyway, and it made no difference to him whether he took down the witch alone or with company.

Once their alliance was settled, Spanich walked alongside him.

“I must admit, I was surprised. I didn’t expect the Gigant who took in, or rather, rescued, the witch’s apprentice to be you. Quite the coincidence.”

“…You met the man with the red-feathered helmet?”

“Red-feathered helmet? Ah… you must mean the village chief. Yes, we met on the road. When I told him why I was coming, he explained the situation and asked for help—said we were their only hope.”

Always switching sides so easily.

Anagin thought the village chief was pitiful, but he could understand it, too. The man probably didn’t have any other options.

Spanich also recalled his meeting with the village chief, and something began to bother him.

“But tell me, Mr. Anagin, why did you refuse their plea for help? They begged you to save them from the witch, didn’t they? Yet here you are, heading straight for her.”

If he truly didn’t intend to help, he could have just left. Why turn them down, then immediately set out to kill the witch? Spanich couldn’t make sense of it.

Was it some kind of hidden intent? A strategy known only to heroes like him? He wanted to learn, if possible.

“It just sounded like a hassle.”

Anagin gave a lazy answer.

He was planning to kill the witch, but explaining that he didn’t want to get tangled up in protecting people sounded annoying.

And, honestly, it wasn’t far from the truth. He’d refused because he didn’t want them clinging to him afterward.

But for someone raised in a practitioner family, Spanich was shocked.

To him, who lived by the ideal of always being a hero to the people, those words were unthinkable.

Utterly shocking.

Then Anagin asked,

“By the way, how do you even know so much about me? It hasn’t been that long.”

“Ah… rumors travel fast, don’t they? Especially when the deeds are extraordinary.”

Anagin had no way of knowing how the rumor spread, so he just shrugged.

‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

Still, he could tell Spanich was hiding something. He could almost hear the gears turning in that man’s head.

But since it didn’t seem like he was plotting anything against him, Anagin decided to leave it alone.

* * *

The witch’s dwelling was located in a swamp basin surrounded by mountains.

Aside from the rough terrain, the path itself wasn’t much of a problem.

Every now and then, a rotting corpse would rise with a weapon in hand to greet them, but they weren’t much of a threat.

“Looks like she’s out of beasts to command!”

Spanich smashed a zombie aside with his shield. The impact shattered the decaying body.

Compared to the corpse-beasts, zombies were easy prey.

Their heavy rot made them sluggish, and their weakened bodies could be crushed with a single swing of a shield.

For Anagin, however, things were trickier.

If he used his Interspatial Bag to smash them, their decayed fluids would splatter all over it.

So, instead, he pulled out an axe or a club from the bag and hurled them, crushing zombies from a distance.

“Why are there so many corpses around here?”

Anagin frowned, looking at the overwhelming number of bodies.

Spanich explained.

“When someone dies in a village under a harpy’s rule, their body is often offered to the harpy. I’d wager that’s why.”

“Not just that, I’d say.”

A voice cut in—it was the robed woman, reappearing suddenly after vanishing when the zombies had attacked.

Spanich looked startled to see her again.

She had managed to keep up with their pace through the rough mountain trail, disappear the instant combat began, and reappear the moment it ended.

Her agility was uncanny—almost as if she were magically enhanced.

“There have always been a lot of corpses around here.”

“Is that so?”

“This place where the witch lives, it wasn’t always a swamp. It used to be a city. When the city fell, it turned into a swamp, and those bodies are probably the people who died back then.”

“How do you know that?”

“From the witch’s collection of books. Most harpies collect shiny things, but the smart ones, the ones capable of learning magic, collect books instead. Honestly, that’s the only reason I became her apprentice. I just wanted to read them.”

“Oh? Not to learn magic?”

“I already knew how to use magic. But more than a mage, I’m closer to a scholar, someone who pursues knowledge. That’s why I left my mother’s side and came out into the world.”

“Oooh…”

Spanich let out a sound of admiration.

Anagin, meanwhile, listened without much interest. Not exactly the kind of story he cared about.

“From here on, we should be careful… you too, mister.”

The robed woman pointed toward a hill in the distance.

“Beyond that hill is a downward slope, and that slope is the witch’s front yard.”

“Does it make a difference?”

“Do you think she chose that spot for no reason? It’s bound to be full of traps.”

As they crossed the hill, Anagin immediately understood what she meant.

From the slope onward, a heavy fog rolled in. The path grew faint, and soon, the distance was completely shrouded in pale mist.

Worse yet, the air itself became strangely damp and heavy, setting his nerves on edge.

“Hold on a moment.”

Spanich said, turning to the robed woman.

“If you were the witch’s apprentice, do you know what traps might be waiting, or what kind of magic she uses?”

Realizing the ominous surroundings, Spanich tried to extract whatever information he could from her.

He had gotten distracted after meeting the famous Anagin and had forgotten to ask earlier.

But the robed woman shook her head.

“Sorry, I don’t. She kept all that hidden from me.”

“Hidden? Why…?”

It wasn’t uncommon for mages to be stingy with their teachings, but to hide them entirely was another matter.

They usually showed off a few spells for intimidation or display, to keep their apprentices obedient.

The robed woman looked as if she were about to defend herself—

But before she could, Anagin spoke.

“Well, we’ll find out once we’re down there.”

And he started walking downhill, without giving them a chance to stop him.

The robed woman and Spanich had no choice but to follow.

* * *

Squelch!

Squelch!

Squelch!

Anagin and his companions descended the mountain path and stepped onto flat ground.

Whether it was because they were now in the witch’s front yard or because this had once been a ruined city, the terrain was downright vile.

The fog alone would have been enough of a problem, but the ground was soft and soggy, making every step a struggle.

At first, it only felt like waterlogged soil, but the deeper they went, the more it turned into a swampy mire. Each step sank deep, draining their strength.

“Just the kind of terrain shady mages love,” Spanich grumbled, looking at the mud clinging to his boots.

“I’ve heard mages prefer to weaken their enemies with tricks rather than fight them head-on. Seems it’s true.”

Anagin thought it was more clever than cowardly, but he didn’t bother arguing.

Still, they needed to figure something out soon.

The fog was thick enough to dull their sense of direction. They couldn’t even tell if they were moving forward or backward.

And with their feet constantly sinking into the muck, it felt like they might collapse from exhaustion before long.

“Don’t you know how to deal with this?”

Anagin asked the robed woman.

She gave him a helpless look.

“I’m good at laundry, but I don’t know much about things like this.  And besides, I promised to wash your clothes, mister, not help you with things like—huh?”

She cut herself off mid-sentence and looked down.

The hem of her robe, stained with mud, was now being gripped by something—human-shaped sludge.

Worse still, it wasn’t just her.

Both Anagin and Spanich felt the mud wrapping tightly around their legs.

“What the hell?”

Anagin swung his fist down at the mud that had latched onto his leg.

Squelch!

The humanoid mass burst apart instantly—but then, almost mockingly, reformed itself and began dragging him down again.

“Do we have to destroy a totem for this, too?”

“Yeah. But it’s probably deep under the swamp,”

The robed woman said as she tried to shake the mud off.

“How do you know that?”

“Because that’s where I’d hide it if it were me.”

That… actually made sense.

If the totem were buried deep underwater, it would be nearly impossible to destroy.

Anagin kept punching through the mud while thinking through his options.

The first idea that came to mind was to use the robed woman and Spanich as stepping stones to leap away from the trap.

If he timed it right, he could kick off them and propel himself free.

But… that would make him a terrible person.

The second plan: pull oil from the Interspatial Bag and set the swamp on fire. Fire solved everything, didn’t it?

Except, of course, it would probably roast the robed woman and Spanich along with the mud.

Not impossible—but a bit too extreme.

That left only one final option.

Take a deep breath, dive under, find the totem, and destroy it.

Of course, that plan had a fatal flaw too. His clothes would get filthy.

“Can’t be helped… I was saving this for later, but! Stand back for a moment!!”

Just as Anagin debated whether to go through with it, Spanich suddenly shouted, as if he had made up his mind.

Anagin turned toward him.

The man had swung his shield to shake off the mud that was grabbing him and now drew the spear slung across his back.

It was an unusual weapon: pure white, with the head and shaft seamlessly fused into one. It didn’t resemble any metal he knew; it looked more like polished jade.

“Hrrgh…!”

Spanich channeled Energy (Γι) into the spear. The weapon began to hum, glowing with a deep white radiance.

Then he drove the spear straight into the swamp.

The Energy surged outward in rippling waves, and the mud that had been holding them down crumbled away.

The fog that had enveloped them dissipated all at once—and in the middle of the ruins stood a lone, towering spire.