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The Witch's Cottage was exactly what it sounded like: a sanctuary for magic items, strange tinctures, and a resident whose beauty was a literal force of nature. In this world, Witches weren't just spellcasters; they were individuals with non-human blood, a heritage that granted them innate power but often made them magnets for calamity.
Kael had saved this particular Witch years ago, during a bloodline rampage that had left her defenseless against a monster swarm. Since then, they had been lovers—a traditional arrangement for a Knight and a Witch. Her non-human physiology made reproduction nearly impossible, which in the social hierarchy of this realm, meant she couldn't fulfill a noble marriage. She was "born for the lover's role," a status she didn't just accept but relished. Witches, after all, were creatures of intense emotion who craved connection.
Kael walked in, the magical ward at the door recognizing his signature. A small explosion echoed from the basement, and seconds later, a soot-covered woman lunged at him, clinging to him with the strength of a high-tension clamp.
"Wait, I... can't... breathe..." Kael gasped, his face muffled by a soft, snowy-white expanse. It took a significant effort to pry her off enough to reclaim his oxygen. Even then, her shapely legs remained firmly locked around his waist.
"It's been one day... seven hours... and eight minutes... since you last... saw me," she said, her voice a seductive, disjointed whisper.
Her strange verbal tic—pausing in the wrong spots—was a deliberate safety measure. If she spoke fluently, her resonance with the ambient mana could trigger a localized disaster. It gave her the aura of a mature "Older Sister" with a surprisingly cute edge.
"You're tracking the seconds now?" Kael asked, a black line appearing on his forehead. "I told you I was on rotation at the castle."
"Doesn't... matter." She hooked her arms around his neck, blowing a faint, fragrant smoke ring that stirred Kael's internal fire. This was "Bedchamber Magic"—a specialized school of spells she'd developed herself, including 'Lubrication Art' and 'Binding Art.' Since Kael's magic resistance was too high for most offensive spells, he was the perfect target for her more "intimate" experimental charms.
"Replenish... my mana... Kael."
"It's broad daylight. Can't we do something productive?"
"Doing... me... is productive."
The 'Open for Business' sign was flipped. For the rest of the day, any "gonk" who knocked would be met with an electric shock ward.
By dusk, the Witch leaned against the damp sheets, taking a puff from a long pipe to boost her spirits.
"I heard news... from an Adventurer," she said. "A pair of Griffins... in the Misty Forest. They have... a nest."
Kael's eyes sharpened. For a Knight, half of his class progression was tied to his mount. To advance to the master tiers, he needed a magical contract. In the Age of Myth, Dragon Knights were the gold standard, but dragons were now extinct "legacy hardware." Griffins, however, were still active and high-tier.
"Looks like we're starting another adventure," Kael said, brushing a hand over her cheek.
"Will you bring... your Little Sister?" the Witch teased.
Kael's head throbbed at the mention of the Young Lady. If he left her behind, she'd either stage a protest or—worse—try to follow them alone with her 'Soft Silver Sword.'
"Bring her," the Witch decided, puffing out her chest. "I can handle... a little girl."
The next day, the trio set off. The Young Lady's mood plummeted the moment she saw the Witch sitting on the warhorse behind Kael.
"Hello... little sister," the Witch greeted with a playful tilt of her hat.
The Young Lady ignored her, staring at Kael with betrayal in her eyes. "Front or back?" Kael asked, offering a hand to the girl.
"I want to sit in the front!!" she demanded.
The Witch let her have it. She didn't care about the seating arrangement; she'd already "tested" every position Kael had to offer during their mana-replenishment session. Leaning in Kael's arms, the Young Lady finally felt secure enough to ask: "Where are we going?"
"Misty Forest. We're catching Griffins."
The journey was a long stretch of golden fields. It was harvest season, the time when low-level Goblins were most active, stealing crops and sometimes livestock. Villagers used the remains of the creatures as grim scarecrows to ward off further raids.
Kael stopped at a village path to buy fresh supplies. The farmers, awestruck by his Dwarf-forged Mithril sword, practically fought to sell him their best produce. Kael paid in silver, leaving them grinning.
"Sour..." the Young Lady muttered, spitting out an orange slice.
Kael chuckled. "It builds character. Eat your fruit, we need to reach the border town before dark."
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