Chapter 63

The gloomy weather had persisted since morning.

The wet snow falling from the low, hanging clouds continued to muddy the road of Batinshuku Street even past noon. There were few passersby, and they hurried along.

Even on such a day, the izakaya Nobu was busy with preparations for opening.

Since Aifa and Helmina were taking a break, only Shinobu and Nobuyuki were working inside the shop.

It was almost like the early days of the shop’s opening a year ago, but Ingrid was also there.

She seemed to have been drinking last night and was passed out, resting there since morning.

Her hangover must have been severe; she was face down at a table in the back, but when Shinobu brought a small dish of pudding to check if she was alive, she was moving her mouth, so she was apparently not dead.

The witch hunt had been taking a toll, as Kamilla, who had come to check on the situation, had said.

It wasn’t as if this incident was Ingrid’s fault, but at one point, they had even considered moving.

As Shinobu watched Nobuyuki peeling the skin off the daikon for the bath fumigation to be used the next day, the outside of the shop suddenly became noisy. The sound of a carriage and the neighing of horses could be heard.

The sound of the carriage gradually approached and then quietly stopped in front of the shop.

A chill ran down Shinobu’s back.

None of the regulars at the izakaya Nobu arrived by carriage. She had a bad feeling.

Ingrid, who had woken up upon hearing the carriage, stretched. She was wearing a black robe today.

The witches in the ancient city’s legends were also said to wear all black. If the carriage was from a witch hunt, it might not be a good thing.

There was no way to escape through the back door, and as she was thinking this, the glass door was knocked on roughly.

"Welcome!"

"...Welcome."

Unlike Shinobu, who greeted a half-tone higher than usual, Nobuyuki was calm.

It was reassuring that he was ready to act if anything happened, standing behind the counter.

The door was slightly opened, and a customer pushed their way in.

No, it wasn’t a customer. It was a face Shinobu didn’t want to see.

"Hey, the nobles of the izakaya Nobu. Thanks for the other day."

Damian.

A petty criminal who, along with Backes Hof, had been suspiciously investigating whether the izakaya Nobu’s beer was the forbidden lager. He was supposed to be a wanted man, so she never expected to see him again so soon.

"What brings you here?"

"I’d like to say I came for some sake and good food, but that’s not the case. I’m not alone today. Your Eminence, this way."

He dramatically opened the door further.

A large man in monk’s robes bowed and entered.

He must have been in his fifties, but his plump skin was firm, making him look younger than his age.

The monk’s robes, made of pure white silk embroidered with silver thread, were of better quality than what Etvin wore, befitting a high-ranking clergyman.

"Indeed. This is quite an exotic establishment."

The Archbishop, with the ease of someone accustomed to being invited to banquets, rubbed his plump hands together and took a seat at the nearest table. Seeing Ingrid in the back, he smiled and nodded. He looked like a refined customer, but this might be a deception.

Out of habit, Shinobu quietly placed a hot towel on the table.

The Archbishop, surprised by its warmth, narrowed his eyes in delight and wiped his hands after cooling it a bit.

Damian, who had been watching this with a bitter expression, cleared his throat loudly.

"I brought Your Eminence here today for no other reason. There is a suspicion that this izakaya Nobu is a witch’s den. This is for the judgment."

It was indeed a witch hunt.

Shinobu was a bit surprised that Damian was involved in this incident, but on second thought, it wasn’t unexpected.

It was probably a revenge against the izakaya Nobu. This was the kind of thing he would do.

Unconsciously, Shinobu’s expression turned stern.

In such cases, it was better for Shinobu to step forward rather than Nobuyuki, who wasn’t a good talker and might be swayed.

"This is just an izakaya. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Of course, I hope that’s true, for the sake of the ancient city."

Damian continued with a smirk on his face.

"But we can’t just say that. Don’t you have any suspicions about the shop?"

"No, we don’t. We are just running a healthy izakaya."

"Hmm, healthy. I see."

The Archbishop didn’t say anything. He just watched the proceedings with interest.

Damian might be the one actually conducting the witch hunt.

"Witches are said to be close to the ancient elves and have white-furred snow foxes as friends. There are reports that foxes have been seen entering and leaving this shop. What do you say about that?"

"...Foxes?"

For a moment, she glanced at the kamidana. They enshrined a Shinto deity here, but they didn’t actually have a fox. It couldn’t have escaped and caused mischief.

Sometimes, the prepared tofu or inari sushi would disappear, but Shinobu understood that it was probably Nobuyuki who had taken it.

"Denying it is useless. It’s better to tell the truth."

"No, I really don’t know anything. Nothing at all."

Damian slightly tilted his head. His face said, “Stubborn brat,” but Shinobu only knew what she knew.

The interrogation continued. Damian took out a folded parchment and licked his finger to flip it.

The high-pressure questioning wasn’t pleasant. Especially since it was Damian.

She wanted it to end quickly, but he was trying to trap them. She couldn’t let her guard down.

"What about mushrooms? Mushrooms are a symbol of witches. In the ancient city, they are not a common ingredient due to the memories of past witch hunts. But it’s said that the izakaya Nobu uses them abundantly."

"Young people don’t care much about it."

"Care and custom are different things. There are still elderly people who live without eating mushrooms."

"That’s because we moved here from elsewhere..."

Damian’s eyes gleamed suspiciously. His smile on one cheek was sticky and unpleasant.

"From elsewhere. Yes, this izakaya Nobu came from elsewhere. Unseen dishes, an unfamiliar appearance. Cool in summer, warm in winter. It’s truly wonderful. It’s only natural that everyone likes it."

His gestures made him look like a clown.

"Then, where from?"

Faced with the piercing question, Shinobu was at a loss.

She couldn’t answer. There was no way she could. She couldn’t say they came from another world and expect to be believed.

If she couldn’t explain where they came from, would they be treated as witches?

She didn’t understand, but it was Damian. Any ambiguity would be a perfect target.

"Can’t answer? Of course not. The very existence of this shop must be the work of a witch."

Just as Damian’s statement ended, a chuckling sound came from the back table.

It was Ingrid.

The laughter grew louder, and even Damian seemed intimidated.

"An interesting story, but isn’t that a bit far-fetched?"

"...Who are you?"

"I’m Ingrid, a regular at this shop."

Stepping forward in front of the puzzled Damian, Ingrid wore her usual calm smile.

However, her eyes seemed somewhat sad and filled with resolve.

The amulet hanging from her neck glowed blue.

"Most people don’t know where they came from, right?"

"I didn’t come here for a philosophical or theological debate."

"Oh, but a witch trial is the epitome of theological debate."

Ingrid chuckled and continued.

"For example, the House of Sanknusenburgh is very old, but its origins before serving the imperial family are unknown. Some say they were mountain men, wanderers, bandits, or pirates. All we know is that they came from the north. Everyone starts as an outsider."

"So what?"

"The ancient city is full of people with such uncertain origins. Even if you don’t know where they’re from, after a year, they become part of the ancient city. If the izakaya Nobu is a witch’s den, half the people of the ancient city would have to be witches."

"Don’t talk nonsense!"

"No, it’s nonsense."

Damian’s argument, which was trying to ensnare the izakaya Nobu, was now drifting away from the topic.

"Still, it’s a witch. The izakaya Nobu is a witch’s den."

"To make such a claim, you need more evidence, don’t you?"

"What do you think you are? If you keep defending this izakaya Nobu, depending on the circumstances, you might..."

Spitting out his words, Damian was met with Ingrid’s serene smile.

"Me? I’m a witch. A genuine one."

"An actual, genuine witch...?"

Damian’s face changed from red with anger to pale with shock. He probably didn’t expect a real witch to appear. As the saying goes, if you poke a bush, a snake might come out. He turned to the Archbishop for help, but the Archbishop remained silent.

"Yes, a witch. The kind you described, living in a deep forest, healing people’s illnesses and injuries with herbs and spells. I haven’t met any elves yet, though."

"Do you know what you’re saying?"

"I know. But I’m also a devout follower of the Inquisitorial Church. I’ve never missed a worship service, and I can recite the scriptures. My lifestyle is that of a witch, that’s all."

Ingrid’s words, spoken with conviction, sounded more like those of a clergyman than a witch.

But her confident words seemed to further infuriate Damian.

"Don’t talk nonsense! There’s no such thing as a witch who isn’t an enemy of faith."

"Don’t say that, you ignorant one. There’s no reason why witches can’t believe in gods and goddesses. Conversely, there’s no reason why clergymen can’t become witches."

"But, a witch!"

Damian’s voice was almost a roar. He couldn’t tolerate being called ignorant. His face, which had been pale, was now red and black.

"Yes, a witch. A former clergyman. How do you intend to judge me? What’s your evidence?"

"I will judge you by the authority of His Eminence. It’s unacceptable to leave a self-declared witch unjudged. Take her to the outskirts and burn her..."

"Enough."

The one who interrupted was the Archbishop, who had been watching the proceedings.

"That’s enough, Damian. Your witch hunt is over."

"Your Eminence, you say it’s enough?"

"I mean it literally. The witch we were looking for has been found."

Ignoring the stunned Damian, the Archbishop approached Ingrid.

His face didn’t show the expression of a clergyman who had found a witch to be hunted. Instead, it was filled with joy.

"It’s been a while, Ingrid. I’m glad to see you’re well."

"I don’t know you, I’m not an acquaintance of the Archbishop," Ingrid responded, puzzled.

"Do you not remember? Rodrigo. We were together at the Inquisitorial Church, little Rodrigo."

As Ingrid rolled the name "little Rodrigo" on her tongue, the frown on her forehead gradually disappeared, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"...You, Rodrigo? But you, your height..."

The Archbishop laughed. "I’ve grown, of course. I wasn’t sure it was you at first, either."

Ingrid nodded, her eyes filled with surprise and joy.

With a small crack, the amulet broke. The wooden piece with the blue gemstone, as if its purpose was fulfilled, split in two, and the gemstone fell to the floor.

"I’ve been looking for you for a long time, even after you left the Inquisitorial Church to become a witch."

Ingrid’s expression turned awkward, like a child caught in mischief.

"There were no clues..."

"I sent people to places known for their wine and sweets, of course, and to places with rumors of witches."

Rodrigo’s story of the witch hunt, now a laughing matter, was a series of unbelievable hardships.

"If I heard of a witch who loved pumpkin pie in the Broceliande forest, I sent someone. If I heard of a witch who loved alcohol visiting the hot springs in Alhenia, I skipped meetings and headed north..."

Since it wasn’t official work, he couldn’t use regular subordinates. He learned to use somewhat suspicious people with money, but Damian was an unexpected choice.

"You’ve always been passionate, but you have incredible drive."

"I had high hopes for this time. I heard that the previous emperor had a favorite izakaya in this city."

"There’s no way you’d find me this way... How many years did you think it would take?"

"Yes, it took quite a long time."

Around them, time seemed to flow differently. Shinobu and Nobuyuki couldn’t keep up with the changing situation.

The Archbishop’s purpose wasn’t a witch hunt but a witch search, and he was looking for Ingrid alone.

The peaceful atmosphere was broken by Damian.

"So what? She called herself a witch in front of Your Eminence. This shop, where witches come and go, is also guilty!"

Damian kicked over a chair and shouted.

But, perhaps he hit his shin, and ended up holding his own leg. The Archbishop’s eyes were filled with pity as he looked at Damian.

"You’re all witches! The izakaya Nobu is a witch’s shop! I’ll make sure you can’t stay in the ancient city. Even if you’re not judged, you’ll carry the mark of a witch for the rest of your life!"

"Enough, Damian."

"Your Eminence, don’t stop me. These people should carry the mark of a witch..."

"I can’t and won’t do such a thing. Times have changed from a hundred years ago."

"Then why did you agree to the witch hunt?"

The Archbishop’s face showed a complex expression as he shook his head.

"I was only looking for a witch. It was you, Damian, who misunderstood it as a witch hunt."

Damian began to tremble and then fled like a rabbit.

Nobuyuki, holding a noodle stick, stopped him from escaping through the front door. Perhaps realizing he couldn’t get past Nobuyuki, he quickly changed direction and ran out the back door.

"Stop him!"

Shinobu’s voice was in vain. Damian disappeared through the back door, which creaked and closed on its own. The last thing Shinobu saw was not the familiar back alley of a Japanese shopping district, but what looked like a mountain path.

The door didn’t lead to the familiar back alleys of the ancient city.

Damian was walking along a stone-paved path in a dense forest.

If it were just a mountain path, it wouldn’t be so frightening. The worst that could happen would be encountering bandits or robbers, which he was used to dealing with.

The problem was that this mountain wasn’t just any mountain.

Damian gently touched the red-painted wooden surface. He didn’t know that this was a torii gate.

This red-painted structure, which seemed to guard a pagan temple, dominated the mountain path.

Whether he looked forward or backward, they stretched endlessly, preventing him from escaping.

After walking for a long time, he reached a fork in the road, but all paths were covered by torii gates.

"Where... where am I?"

Damian whispered, straining his voice. The sound of a fox reached his ears.

Had he been tricked by a witch? Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glared in the direction of the sound. But he saw no one. His energy to move his feet drained, and he collapsed on the spot.

The sound of the fox came again.

Exhausted and unable to move, Damian was found in the back alleys of the ancient city several days later.