Witch Taming System

Unfortunately for Lancel, the lead ended there.

Within the time he had, there was no realistic way to track them down. The trail had already gone cold, and the only thing left was a vague promise tied to a shipment three days from now.

Lancel let out a heavy breath, growing anxious every passing second.

There was no way ordinary humans could overpower witches. That much was common sense. And yet, for the past few days, there hadn’t been a single trace of Faust and Fiore.

Whatever had happened to them, it was clear those mercenaries had the means to subdue them.

That meant that these days, it wasn’t just the Leviathan Group that had the means to combat witches.

But today was the day.

Cargo ships, both small and large, had gathered around the port, lining the docks as crews moved in a constant flow between loading and departure.

Pinpointing exactly which one the mercenaries would use was nearly impossible. But still, Lancel worked closely with Christoph, keeping a careful watch over anything that stood out.

Pulling his hood down slightly, Lancel took in the surroundings.

His gaze moved from ship to ship, from crew to cargo, searching for anything suspicious as he leaned back against the wall, blending into the background while he observed.

Time passed slowly.

Every creak of wood, every shout from the dockworkers, every crate dragged across the planks. At first glance, everything looked the same. Just another busy day at the port.

But Lancel didn’t let his guard down.

At that moment, someone from the crowd approached him discreetly, blending in well enough that no one paid any attention.

"I have something."

It was Christoph.

"Six large containers were said to have been loaded on one of the ships not too long ago."

Lancel’s eyes narrowed. "Which one?"

Christoph gave a subtle tilt of his head, directing his attention without making it obvious.

"Mid-sized ship. Faded blue hull. Third from the left."

Lancel followed the direction naturally, his gaze passing over the docks before settling on it.

"And what about the ones who loaded the cargo?" Lancel asked. "Don’t these things get checked before getting loaded?"

"It’s highly likely the ones working that ship are already on their payroll," he replied. "For an organization like that, it wouldn’t be strange if the cargo ship itself is theirs."

That made sense.

For an organization that large, where the ones who had taken Faust and Fiore were only amongst the many of its members, it wasn’t strange to assume their reach extended further.

Even wealthy nobles who owned ships could easily be among their connections.

"So, what’s your plan, Lancel?" Christoph asked.

"Plan?"

A faint smirk formed on Lancel’s lips.

"There is no plan."

Almost as if on cue, a commotion broke out among the crowd.

A tall, beautiful woman stepped into view, a wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over her face as she began calling out to the dockworkers.

"Clear the way!" she said. "All cargo operations are to be paused!"

The dockworkers exchanged glances.

"...Paused?"

"Yes," she replied, raising her chin. "From this point onward, I will be personally inspecting all cargo ships currently docked in this port."

That was enough.

Noise spread instantly.

"Inspecting all of them...?"

"Who is she...?"

A witch nearby immediately recognized the woman.

"T-That’s Countess Gretelle..."

Immediately, the workers began stepping back upon hearing it was a Countess Witch, giving her space without further complaint.

"I trust there won’t be any objections," she continued. "Or would anyone here like to explain why they’d prefer I don’t take a look?"

Christoph turned to Lancel. "Who is that, Lancel?"

"My trump card."

In a situation like this, the most optimal move wasn’t to act alone, but to rely on someone who held far more authority than he did.

And there was no one more fitting.

Countess Gretelle.

One of the few witches he had managed to form a connection with, and more importantly, the guardian of one of those taken.

After that, the inspections began.

They were carried out personally by Countess Gretelle herself. No detail was overlooked as she moved from one cargo ship to another, checking every nook and cranny without exception.

Time passed as she crossed from one ship to another.

"Are you certain they’re here, Lancel?" Countess Gretelle asked at last, turning to him after a long search.

"...That can’t be."

Lancel’s brows slowly knitted together as the realization sank in. They had checked everything. From every hold, to every crate, even hidden spaces that could’ve concealed someone.

But there was no sign of the two witches.

"...No. They should’ve been here..."

Christoph, who had been standing a few steps behind, frowned.

"Unless... they moved it..."

"Before today?" Lancel asked.

"Or earlier today," Cristoph replied. "Before the inspection started."

Countess Gretelle observed the two in silence for a moment before speaking.

"Then your information was either outdated," she said, "or they anticipated interference."

Lancel clenched his jaw. If they anticipated it, then that meant they knew.

"Or they’re just that cautious."

"Christoph," Lancel said, turning toward him. "Can you get me information on every ship that boarded today?"

"Of course."

Christoph didn’t waste time. He quickly disappeared among the dockworkers as if he had never been there in the first place.

An hour passed.

When he returned, there was a slight edge to his expression.

"So," Christoph began, "three ships boarded this morning. But none of them were cargo ships. One was a passenger vessel bound for Meursault. People come and go everytime, so no one bothers checking too closely."

Lancel’s eyes narrowed at that.

"...Go on."

"Two of them were regular transports," Christoph continued. "Nothing special. But the third... A private vessel with minimal crew... No listed passengers..."

Silence fell for a moment as Lancel’s thoughts began to line up.

If they had anticipated interference, then it made sense. They would’ve taken the risk, betting that the most suspicious option wouldn’t be the one people fixated on.

After all, wasn’t the most obvious target always the first to be checked?

"...That might be it."

Lancel clicked his tongue.

"...Do you know where it’s headed?"

Christoph shook his head.

"Not yet. But I can find out—"

"So from what I’ve gathered," Countess Gretelle cut in, turning toward them, "the ship has already left?"

"It’s highly possible—"

"Then that’s all I needed to know."

"Wait—"

Before Lancel could even think to stop her, Countess Gretelle had already moved, taking off on her broomstick at maximum speed.