Chapter 384: Witches Are a Man's Treasure
The Witch of Lust's nearly tearful expression only heightened Roy's interest.
He stroked his chin, eyeing the witch who, despite seeming utterly unremarkable at first glance, somehow embodied all the most universally appealing traits. With amusement, he remarked, "...So you do feel 'lust' after all, Carmilla!"
Roy found this explanation much more plausible. Just look at the Witches of Greed, Envy, Sloth, and Gluttony—each embodied their respective emotions to the extreme. Even Satella, whose compatibility with the Witch Factor of Envy wasn't particularly strong, was still tormented by feelings of jealousy.
As for Carmilla, who perfectly matched the Witch Factor of Lust, it was impossible for her not to exhibit any traces of lust.
What exactly was lust? According to Dante's Divine Comedy, it referred to excessively intense, immoral desires—whether it be carnal cravings or the pursuit of stimulation—the most extreme manifestation of this sin.
"I am the Witch of Lust, so of course I have those thoughts and impulses," Carmilla said, her face flushed red. Despite being the Witch of Lust, she seemed oddly shy, always deflecting when it came to such topics.
"But why haven't I heard any rumors about the Witch of Lust? You're not the first one, yet none of the past Witches of Lust were ever associated with scandalous behavior," Roy asked curiously.
He had a deep fascination with Witches—these extreme embodiments of human emotions. His thirst for the unknown aligned with what Echidna had once said: the two of them were kindred spirits, both driven by curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge. In that sense, they were a perfect match.
Men were creatures ruled by their baser instincts. If the Witch of Lust were as extreme as the Witches of Gluttony or Greed, rumors of her promiscuity should have been rampant. One would expect men to flock to her in droves.
Just imagine—when you encountered the Witch of Lust, you would see the person you loved most. People always yearned for the unattainable. What man wouldn't be thrilled at the chance to spend a night with their beloved?
Yet, strangely, in the legends of this world, the Witch of Lust was merely a footnote, never associated with such rumors. This puzzled Roy greatly.
"Lust symbolizes 'excessive adoration,' but the prerequisite is that you must adore the other person first!" Carmilla explained urgently, her bright pink eyes brimming with tears, as if terrified that Roy might mistake her for someone indiscriminate in her affections.
"You've never adored anyone? Never loved anyone?"
At that moment, Roy understood. Because Carmilla had never loved—or perhaps none of the past Witches of Lust had ever loved—they naturally never experienced "excessive adoration."
Carmilla shook her head in confusion. "...I don't know what love is. I-I don't even know what it means to be loved." Her voice was delicate, as if it were her natural tone or a reflection of her timid personality—always afraid that speaking too loudly might displease others. The slightest glare would send this insecure, fearful Witch scurrying away in fright.
"Because no one has ever truly seen me, no one could possibly love me. And since no one has ever loved me, I can't understand what love is."
Carmilla lowered her head. The night wind in the castle was chilly, and her adorable cheeks had turned pink from the cold. She nervously tapped her fingertips together, her legs fidgeting restlessly—clear signs of her anxiety and timidity.
Roy finally understood why there were no rumors of lust about the Lust Witches—because they were all "Faceless Goddesses." Every man who looked at them did not see the Lust Witches themselves, but rather the woman they most desired in their hearts.
The Lust Witches knew all too well that every man who gazed upon them did not truly see them. Each Lust Witch was merely a substitute for another, and since they themselves did not understand love, it was only natural that they felt no affection for the men who treated them as replacements. Thus, it was only logical that nothing ever happened between them.
The only ones who could completely ignore the authority of a Lust Witch were, generally speaking, other witches. And since witches weren't lesbians, they had no interest in Lust Witches either.
No wonder Carmilla liked living among other witches. Because other witches could disregard her authority, every witch who saw her beheld her true self. That gave Carmilla a sense of being alive, which was why she loved this place—why she loved being with other witches.
The other witches likely had the same reasons for preferring to live among their own kind. They were just a group of girls abandoned by society, huddling together for warmth.
Though these girls were all a bit neurotic and extreme.
Still, Roy thought, as a man—a normal man—and one who could see Carmilla's true appearance, perhaps he might be able to glimpse the reality of a Lust Witch as well.
Thinking this, Roy took a step forward. To Carmilla's shock, he suddenly cupped her face with his hands and said gently, "...The nights here are a bit cold. Carmilla, don't catch a chill. There, isn't that much warmer now?"
Carmilla's delicate body stiffened. She could only feel her icy cheeks being enveloped by a pair of large, warm hands. A faint heat flowed from those palms into her body, making her entire being go soft. A never-before-felt impulse spread from the depths of her heart to every inch of her, like wild grass sprouting uncontrollably, quickening her breath.
Suddenly, Carmilla burst into tears. She wept bitterly, fearfully, taking two steps back before crouching down again, burying her face in her knees. Between sobs, she stammered, "...P-Please... don't be so kind to me... I beg you, don't be so kind. I'm afraid... I might really 'fall in love' with you."
"What would happen if you fell in love with me?"
Roy crouched in front of her. Seeing her shrink back as if wanting to retreat further, he didn't push her, speaking only in a gentle tone.
"I... I would go mad with desire to do that with you, to form a bond that defies all morality... Ahh, you've seen how Donna is, haven't you? She seeks only knowledge. But if I were to fall into such a state, what I would pursue... would be that kind of desire!"
"...I'm so scared. So scared."
Carmilla sobbed pitifully, her cries tugging at the heartstrings, making it impossible not to feel sympathy for her.
Roy suddenly felt that witches were truly treasures for men, the ultimate treasure girls. Take Carmilla before him, for instance—she was the Witch of Lust, undoubtedly skilled in those arts. Moreover, as the Faceless Goddess, she could fulfill any man's fantasy of women in the world, making her the grandmaster of cosplay.
Then there was Typhon, the Witch of Sloth. Even during such activities, this witch would likely be too lazy to move, allowing you to have your way with her.
And Minerva, the Witch of Wrath—during those moments, her face would be filled with rage, yet she'd submit to you unresistingly, likely satisfying many men's peculiar fetishes.
For instance, the Witch of Gluttony, Daphne—she would probably devour everything about you...
Thinking about it this way, these witches really do seem quite adorable. Pfft.