Chapter 7 - The Reincarnated Eldest Witch Sister Embraces Self-Sacrifice

Chapter 7: For All Witches The day after Efhnor visited my home, I went to sell my crafted goods at the Defelos Trading Company, just like any other day. On my way back, an unfamiliar character called out to me from behind. "Hey you, wouldn't happen to be named Ulgir, would you?" "…Yes, that’s me. What do you want?" "Ah, I have business precisely with you." Turning to look as I answered, I saw a tall figure clad in a black hood. The face was obscured, but the voice and build suggested it was likely a woman. I hoped it wasn't trouble, but I had yet to find out why she had approached me. "I am an old witch who disdains this world filled with injustice. I am searching for allies to help make it a better place for witches... Will you not hear me out? I can make an offer that would surely appeal to somebody like you, who has sisters in the craft." "Where did you learn about us?" "You four sisters are quite well-known in this city. Where I heard your name? I've long since forgotten." Indeed, we were somewhat celebrities in the Polis Commercial City. In a world where being a witch was already rare, the existence of four sisters who were witches couldn't help but stand out. Moreover, since my younger sister Istos had become the city’s strongest adventurer, our fame had greatly increased. "… I see no harm in listening to your story, at least." "Great, it’s settled then. Standing discussions are a bit awkward, let's go to a nearby establishment and talk over there." Thus, I accepted this mysterious person's proposal and we entered a tavern to talk. I agreed to listen because I was curious about her vision of a "better world for witches," and also because I wanted to gather information about other witches. We took our seats across from each other at a tavern table, each ordered a drink, and began our conversation. "First off, would you mind removing that hood? It's difficult to talk to someone whose face I cannot see." "Oh, my apologies. Wearing this hood has become something of a habit; I often forget to take it off even when it's not necessary." As she spoke, she removed the hood, revealing her face. What appeared was a woman with dimmed gold hair, a hardened expression, and a scar on her cheek. Witches don't age, so it's hard to say how old she is, but given she referred to herself as an old witch, her aura did indeed feel mature. "I shall introduce myself first. My name is Bronte. Does the epithet 'The Witch of Thunder' ring any bells?" "No, it does not." "I suppose that's to be expected. It has been quite some time since I was last called by that title. But let's get back to the main subject - my plan. Here in the Vasilio Kingdom, I intend to secure political influence for witches. More specifically, I want to elevate powerful witches into the nobility, so they can participate in the kingdom's councils and pursue politics for the benefit of witches." Politics by witches, for witches. Indeed, to a witch like me, the proposition seemed sweetly enticing. However, I was not so simple as to be easily swayed by such words. I needed to hear more. "And what do you plan to do to become nobility?" "Show strength. Hunt monsters, judge criminals, engage in wars, and show the people that witches have the noble quality of power. If we cannot gain titles through that, then we'll have no choice but to take more drastic measures." "And what would that entail?" "Rebellion. Take over a suitable city with force and compel the kingdom to concede to our demands. Witches have the power to do so. Surely even you understand this?" Hearing Bronte's words, my eyes widened. It was a stance I could not accept. The ideal she espoused was noble, but through rebellion and use of force, many people would suffer. It would damage the social credit of witches among the populace and accelerate witch discrimination. To alter Bronte's view, I decided to speak up. "… Perhaps if we keep collecting achievements, we can receive nobility without a rebellion." "Impossible. A hundred years ago, I fought for the kingdom against the empire in a war. I defeated more enemies than anyone at the front lines and contributed to the kingdom more than any, yet I was not granted nobility. ...Later research revealed a bitter truth; Vasilio Kingdom has never had a noble witch. No matter the feats, the king does not want witches among the nobility." Speaking with deep resentment, Bronte revealed her conviction. Her beliefs were more robust and deep-rooted than I had imagined. "Once, I was known and feared as the Witch of Thunder, but in the end, I was no more than an ordinary soldier with meager pay. Hypothetically, even if your sister, the famous adventurer Istos, saved the city from a powerful monster attack, she likely would not be ennobled. Wouldn’t you want to change such a world? Don’t you want to create a better world for your sisters?" Bronte pressed on earnestly. Mentioning my sister made my heart waver. However— "I'm sorry, but I cannot join you. While I want to change this world, I am also satisfied with my current peaceful life. I cannot participate in something so dangerous as a rebellion, and I cannot involve my sisters." "…I see. That's disappointing. I thought a witch who annihilated attackers for the sake of her sisters would have made a fine ally." As Bronte lamented, the drinks we had ordered arrived at the table. I had asked for a coffee, and Bronte for what looked like tea. After sipping our drinks and pausing for a moment, we continued our conversation. "Indeed, it's a relatively good era for witches at present. I can't blame a young witch like you for wanting to maintain the status quo. But once witch discrimination starts in earnest, it will be too late to act. We need to be proactive while the witches of the world still have the capacity to do so. If we wait until they have been battered by repeated discrimination and lost their spirit and strength, it will be too late." "That might be true. However, there should have been the option to act more peacefully. Rebellion is not the only way to change the world." Bronte appeared somewhat despondent, a stark shift from her previous demeanor. Surely some past tragedy had befallen her, but that did not mean I would change my stance. "… We are irreconcilable then. It can’t be helped. Though it’s personally disappointing, I appreciate you listening to me. It seems further persuasion would be futile, so I will take my leave now. Please use this to cover the cost of our drinks." Having concluded our discussion, Bronte placed some money on the table and prepared to leave the tavern. Before she left, I had one last question to ask. "Just one last thing... are you the one who destroyed the Teos Cult's hideout?" "The Teos Cult? Hmm, I don’t remember such a name, but I do recall recently crushing a cult that was harming witches." "I see, well, thank you for sharing that." Bronte didn't pause and simply walked out of the tavern. Watching her leave, I finished the remaining coffee in my cup, settled the bill, and then left the tavern as well.