Witch Taming System

When he thought there were no leads, the only reason there weren’t any was simply that Lancel had been following the wrong one to begin with.

"I’m demanding a full refund, Christoph..."

Lancel pointed the blade straight at Christoph.

"W-Wait...! It was my mistake...!" Christoph stammered, raising both hands. "I didn’t think they’d choose to leave Port Town like that...!"

Lancel didn’t lower the blade.

According to witness statements, a group of merchants had been seen leaving Port Town. At first, it hadn’t seemed strange. Merchants came and went all the time.

But there had been one key, minor slip-up that caught Lancel’s attention.

According to the witness, one of the merchants had been one of the performers who had drawn a crowd a few days ago.

A beautiful woman. Someone he could never forget. Beautiful enough that he could recognize her even without the makeup.

According to the witness, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Someone whose bare face was to die for.

And most importantly, Lancel had never even mentioned the performers.

Immediately, Lancel moved. He seized one of the merchants’ caravans, more specifically the horse meant to pull it, cutting it loose and mounting in one fluid motion before departing.

He wasn’t entirely sure where to go.

But he had an idea.

Caravans leaving Port Town were always checked. That was standard procedure. No matter how small the load, no matter how insignificant it seemed, they had to pass through designated routes under the watch of security.

Which meant... they hadn’t taken the main road.

According to Christoph, there were only a few channels that bypassed inspection. Routes that weren’t exactly hidden, yet weren’t openly acknowledged either, existing in that gray area between legality and convenience.

Naturally, Lancel had already considered this possibility.

That was why, during the days he had been given to prepare, he had taken precautionary measures to map out every possible escape route.

Possibly, they could have left a day before. Or the day before that. Or even on the very day they had taken Faust and Fiore.

But Lancel was willing to bet on something simple.

Merchants who came to Port Town didn’t just leave early.

Not when cargo ships had arrived, and the port was at its busiest.

That was when customers flooded in, when trade peaked, and when profit was at its highest. Witches, adventurers, and traders all gather at once.

Anyone who left before the cargo ships departed would be missing out on all of that.

And that meant they wouldn’t be merchants to begin with.

So, to blend in with that expectation, to avoid standing out in the most basic sense, Lancel was willing to bet that they had only left earlier today.

It was nothing more than a gamble.

A futile hope.

But even so...

"Could you go any faster?!"

Neeeigh——

* * *

Fortunately for Lancel, a single horse could cut through rough terrain with ease. A caravan, however, was a different story. Moving too fast would only strain the wagon, wear down the wheels, and exhaust the animal pulling it.

And that was exactly why he was able to catch up.

Up ahead, Lancel was certain that it was them.

No sane merchant would ever choose this route to begin with. The conditions alone made it impractical. The heat from the scorching sun was unbearable, and there was barely any proper shade to offer relief.

"Nyx."

At that moment, the spine-like monster materialized before surging forward like a streak of blur. It moved far faster than the horse, and certainly faster than the caravan could ever hope to escape.

In an instant, Nyx tore straight through the caravan.

Crash——!

Wood splintered apart in the air. The whole structure collapsed all at once as the force ripped through it. The horses pulling it stumbled immediately. They tripped and crashed forward along with the shattered remains.

"What the?!"

"Shit...!"

The mercenaries reacted immediately.

They rolled off the wagon before it fully gave way, hitting the ground hard but recovering just as fast. While others were thrown forward, scrambling to regain their footing as the remains of the caravan scattered around them.

"Ambush!"

"No? there’s only one...!"

One of them looked up in frustration before freezing in fear as a black streak cut through the dust.

Nyx.

"It’s that... monster...!"

"Monster? What the hell is that?!"

Lemuel, who hadn’t been there that night when they had taken the two witches, could only stare in confusion, his gaze fixed on Nyx.

"It’s that creature we told you about!" one of them shouted. "The one that killed Gabriel and Ross!"

"Ah, fuck... Why is it here...?"

Then, they looked ahead, at the horse approaching through the dust.

Almost immediately, Lemuel’s eyes widened.

In this line of work, where everything operated in the shadows, it wasn’t strange for him to have crossed paths with all kinds of people.

"What is that monster doing here...?!"

And naturally, Lemuel had once had the opportunity to work with one of the Leviathan Group’s most infamous operators.

Lancel.

To them, Nyx was the monster.

But for Lemuel, the real monster was the bastard on the horse.

"What are you doing just standing there, Lemuel?!" one of them shouted. "God, help us out here already!"

While the others struggled to fend off Nyx, Lemuel remained standing there, his gaze fixed on Lancel.

"I’ll take him on."

"Fuck—what are you—Ukh!"

In their eyes, it made no sense.

There were clearly more pressing matters in front of them, and yet Lemuel was focusing on the one they thought was the least threatening.

But Lemuel paid them no heed.

He slowly unsheathed his blade and pointed it toward Lancel, who had just stepped off the horse.

"That man... is part of the Leviathan Group."

"Huh?! Be for real now! Why would a Leviathan go through the trouble of coming all the way here?!"

But Lemuel had no time to answer.

Because by the time the words left their mouths, Lancel, whom he could only stare at in horror back then, had already disappeared.

———!

Like a blur.

It had only been a second.

And yet, Lemuel hadn’t been able to track his movement at all.

"Faust... Fiore..."

Lemuel’s brows rose as he turned around.

Lancel was already there by the caravan behind them, kneeling beside the two unconscious witches, tending to them as if nothing else existed, as if none of their presence had even registered to him.

"...."

A sudden chill ran down Lemuel’s spine.