Witch Taming System

There were many thoughts plaguing Lancel’s mind as he looked at the two witches.

The injection marks were clear across their skin, and their complexion had turned pale to an unnatural degree. Just from that alone, it was obvious that these mercenaries had been using something potent enough to affect witches.

But that was exactly the problem.

Not even the Leviathan Group had access to something like that.

And for a mercenary group Lancel had never even heard of, it didn’t make sense for them to possess something of this level.

That meant there had to be someone backing them, someone who understood how a witch’s inner system worked well enough to develop a drug capable of suppressing them to this extent.

’Another witch...’

Who else could it be but another witch?

At the same time, another thought surfaced in Lancel’s mind.

Did he really hate witches?

Or did he only hate Angelica?

For a moment, even he couldn’t tell. Perhaps fear had blurred that line over time, to the point where his mind had simply learned to associate those wide-brimmed hats with danger.

But was that really fair?

After Faust. After Fiore. After Mei. After Ishtar. After Countess Gretelle.

Could he really continue to hold onto that same prejudice?

There were all kinds of people in this world.

Lancel had learned that much from Leticia.

Moving on was the first step to becoming a better person, and while Lancel knew he wasn’t a good person by any measure, he still wanted to become someone worthy of Leticia’s sacrifice.

Moreover, his conscience, something he had only recently begun to develop, started to stir. It had only manifested about a year ago, yet even now, it was already telling him something.

These witches had done nothing wrong.

So they did not deserve this kind of ending.

"Hoo..."

But for now, Lancel had to stop pretending.

To stop pretending as if he were a human being.

To return to the time before he had met Leticia.

To the time before he had begun relying on the system.

"...."

Lancel tightened his grip around the dagger in his hand.

These bastards weren’t even worth drawing Arondight from its scabbard.

"Lancel—"

As soon as those words left Lemuel’s mouth, Lancel moved.

Clang——!

But unfortunately for him, it met steel instead, the opposing blade intercepting the strike and deflecting his attack with force.

"Fuck...!"

Lemuel grinned, frustration clear on his face. He could see the large blade resting in its scabbard on Lancel’s back, yet even that weight did nothing to slow him down.

If anything, Lancel seemed far faster than he remembered.

But even so, Lancel remained silent. His expression remained blankly monotonous, as if a switch inside him had been flipped.

A switch that told him the target must be eliminated at all costs.

These hands, as if they had been carved by god telling him that they existed solely to make Lancel an executioner.

These hands had never been quite proficient at killing monsters.

Because they were trained to kill humans instead.

"I don’t know what those witches are to you," Lemuel said, trying his best to deflect each and every attack, yet it was clear he was barely keeping up. "But I have a proposal—Aaaakh!"

Slash——!

Yet those words barely registered in Lancel’s ears as he moved like a phantom, cutting down the man holding the blade and causing the sword to fall from his grip.

"You fucking... bastard!"

Of course, why had Lemuel even tried his luck?

The Lancel he remembered, the executioner personally hired by the rebel forces, had never been one to speak much in the first place.

Who would have thought that he would encounter the monster responsible for assassinating an empire’s entire political structure, giving its people a chance to rebel?

No, to call him a man back then would have been too much.

At the time, this person was barely a teenager. Now, though, he had clearly grown.

But even so, Lemuel, who had once thought the rebel forces were insane for hiring a child to eliminate key personnel, now understood the truth.

"Lemuel!"

Lancel of the Leviathan Group was absolutely not someone anyone would ever wish to meet on the battlefield.

Clang——!

Lancel let out a breath before clicking his tongue.

At that very moment, his dagger had been only inches away from Lemuel’s neck before someone stepped in and intercepted the strike.

He cast a brief glance toward Nyx, who was clearly overpowering the rest of the mercenaries, yet it seemed this newcomer had managed to slip past Nyx’s dominance.

"A-Alan..." Lemuel muttered, clutching his bleeding arm, the one that had already lost its hand.

"You look like shit. So much for being our leader," Alan said, raising his blade toward Lancel. "This bastard’s part of Leviathan, right? We kill him, and that troublesome monster is gone."

Alan moved.

"Wait, Alan—"

But there was a clear mistake in the hierarchy.

For Lemuel, the real monster here was not that spine-like creature.

It was Lancel himself.

Slash——!

Alan stood no chance.

Lancel didn’t even bat an eye before cutting him down, his blade passing cleanly through as Alan’s head rolled across the ground.

Thud!

"Fuck..."

Lemuel took a step back as his life flashed before his eyes. Lancel stepped forward, and in the next instant, disappeared from his peripheral vision.

"Go to hell—"

Lemuel didn’t even have the chance to finish his words before his head went flying into the air.

"...."

Lancel looked at his bloodstained dagger.

────────────

[Emergency Objective Completed!]

────────────

[Condition:]

∎ Eliminate the Mercenary Leader

[Rewards Obtained:]

∎ Endurance: +0.5

∎ Vitality: +0.3

∎ Strength +0.2

────────────

The objective felt almost insulting.

The so-called leader had been nothing more than powerless in front of him, and yet the system still deemed this worthy of an emergency objective. It was almost laughable.

To think that this system had underestimated him to this extent. A man who could already kill fully grown adults before he had even learned how to read properly.

[Level: 7 → 8]