The Night of the Monsters - Chapter 21

“Yes.”

“Tell me everything you know about witches and the spirits that lend them power.”

No matter what Giselle turned out to be, Hugo was confident that Oswald wouldn’t dare say anything about it. Even if complications arose, Hugo knew he could protect Giselle from anyone’s hands—completely and absolutely. It wasn’t arrogance but certainty.

When Hugo posed his question, Oswald blinked for a moment before sighing as he realized where the unusual magic emanating from Hugo’s body had originated.

“You must have stayed in that forest.”

That answer alone was sufficient. Oswald wore the expression of someone who clearly knew something, and Hugo smirked slightly.

“She took in Ian and me and taught us how to wield power.”

“I see. So, the young woman whose voice the knights said was so impossibly beautiful, that maiden… she was the witch.”

If other members of the royal family overheard this conversation, they would surely curse the unknown witch, accusing her of meddling in matters she shouldn’t have.

Of course, what might happen to them afterward at Hugo’s hands was obvious. Even though she wasn’t present, the fact that thinking about her could bring such a tender expression to his face made it clear that their relationship was far from ordinary.

Oswald spoke calmly.

“Is that all you wish to know? For instance, would you like to hear why His Majesty has suddenly taken an interest in you both?”

“They say someone is sick and that Ian and I are needed to cure it.”

“….”

“So, it wasn’t just a rumor.”

Leaning back in his chair, Hugo considered telling Ian that the familiar had proven to be more useful than expected.

“I’m not interested. What I want to know is about witches, spirits, and… oh, that blood-based magic you mentioned earlier. Explain everything.”

Depending on the situation, Hugo might have to kill his entire bloodline. The thought of violating familial bonds didn’t even cross his mind. After all, it was they who had failed to uphold their obligations first.

Seeing the deep threat lingering in Hugo’s golden eyes, Oswald swallowed nervously. Even so, his mind worked furiously, calculating as he carefully smoothed his trembling voice before speaking again.

“I will tell you everything I know, Hugo. I’m sure you’ll find the answers you’re looking for. However, may I make a suggestion in return?”

Hugo frowned. Oswald’s confident tone made it seem like there was no need to search the library or question anyone else, but depending on the nature of this proposal, things could get even more bothersome.

Hugo, who had a knack for predicting such annoyances, briefly considered dragging Oswald back to the forest and leaving him for Ian to deal with when the priest added:

“It’s not a proposal that will harm you, Hugo.”

“Speak. I’ll decide after hearing it.”

“Yes. As I mentioned earlier, prophecy does not reveal everything just because I wish to know it. Thus…”

“Get to the point.”

“…The prophecy may not be pointing at you and Ian, but rather at the witch who took you in. Please, bring her here. Help us identify the cause of this illness that cannot be cured by human hands, as well as its treatment.”

Oswald finished his words and bowed deeply. Hugo’s face, looking down at him, was cold and unyielding.

According to Ian, rumors had been circulating in the castle that a sacrifice was needed to cure the illness. Hugo didn’t know whether those rumors were true, but he had no intention of bringing Giselle here in the first place. How dare anyone suggest it.

“What a waste of time, listening to such nonsense.”

Hugo clicked his tongue, as if scolding himself for acting out of character, and stood up from his chair. Oswald quickly blurted out his words to stop him.

“You and Ian should have died in that forest. If not for that witch, that would have surely been your fate. Don’t you think you owe her a debt of gratitude?”

“A debt of gratitude?”

“Witches can never truly integrate with humans. They are unclean beings.”

“Our teacher didn’t teach Ian and me how to summon demons or curse people. Most of what she taught us was how to listen to the spirits and borrow their power, as well as how to handle herbs. Yet you so easily call that unclean.”

“Whatever the truth may be, what matters now is how people perceive it. Humans feel awe or fear when faced with powers beyond their understanding.”

Just as Oswald himself felt a similar fear toward Hugo. The priest held back the thought and instead strengthened his tone.

“That’s why I am suggesting this. I can help ensure that witches are seen as virtuous and righteous beings. And in doing so, the witch you call your teacher will also regain her honor.”

Hugo narrowed his eyes and stared at Oswald. He wasn’t hiding his emotions, making it easy for the old priest to realize that Hugo harbored great affection for Giselle. That was likely why Oswald had made such a proposal, but he had made a grave miscalculation.

“This is more nonsense.”

“…Then, do you intend to leave your teacher in disgrace for the rest of her life? Witches live long lives. Right now, things may be fine because you and Ian are there, but in the future…”

“The future, huh? Our teacher is lucky, isn’t she? A stranger she’s never even met is worrying about her future.”

For a moment, Hugo’s golden eyes gleamed with a feral, predatory desire. The expression was fleeting, but seeing it up close made Oswald’s face go pale. Who could talk about their teacher with a face like that? An irreverent thought crossed the priest’s mind, but he quickly dismissed it and pretended not to notice, responding as if unaffected.

“Of course, it’s only natural. She took such great care of you and Ian, ensuring that you grew up safely. She is also the kingdom’s benefactor, capable of saving young Prince Leslie’s life…”

“Leslie?”

“Your younger brother, Prince Leslie.”

“My only brother is Ian. And benefactor? That’s laughable.”

Coming from the very man who had pronounced the prophecy, it was an absurd statement. Even Oswald knew how brazen his words sounded, but he had to persuade Hugo to bring the witch. Leslie was only ten years old and the kingdom’s sole heir to the throne. The young prince also adored the aging priest.

And yet, Oswald couldn’t bring himself to beg for mercy. His lips, firmly shut, refused to move, as if held in place. Cold sweat soaked his wrinkled hands.

Hugo spoke indifferently.

“Let me ask again. Tell me about witches, spirits, and the magic that used blood to locate Ian and me.”

Of course, Hugo didn’t expect Oswald to answer willingly. But even if he refused to speak, Hugo would follow through with his original plan: take him to Ian, feed him an appropriate amount of drugs, and rummage through his mind until they got what they needed.

Satisfied at the thought that he might be able to return sooner than expected, Hugo began to tense his hand to knock Oswald unconscious. At that moment, Oswald suddenly straightened his posture and spoke.

“Understood. I will answer everything you wish to ask. But, please, even if it’s much later, I beg you to remember my plea—just keep it somewhere in your heart.”

It was a desperate display. Someone might have softened at those words and let their guard down, but Hugo’s gaze remained dry and unyielding. Watching Oswald in silence, Hugo relaxed his hand and sat back down in the chair. Only after the priest exhaled a barely audible sigh of relief did he also take his seat, and the conversation began.

“A spirit that had lent its power to your teacher for a long time recently disappeared. But just before it vanished, it seems to have left its power behind with her.”

“The spirit disappeared? Spirits aren’t beings that fade so easily…”

“You don’t need to know the details, so don’t concern yourself with that. The problem is that this has caused some complications.”

Hugo didn’t elaborate further, but that was enough for Oswald to piece things together. The spirit hadn’t vanished naturally—it had likely been destroyed by the brothers.

Oswald’s knowledge about witches came from his time as a priest at the Imperial Great Temple. Within the temple was a library accessible only to authorized priests. This library contained records of histories thought to have been lost, and Oswald had been one of the few with access.

Typically, when someone left the Great Temple, their memories were erased or bound by magic to prevent them from ever revealing what they had seen or heard. However, Oswald’s unique gift of prophecy meant he still maintained ties to the temple.

That made Hugo’s choice to come to Oswald the correct one. Knowing he needed to lower Hugo’s guard, Oswald began to answer based on what he knew from the records.

“I see. So, what Hugo seeks is a way to eliminate the power the spirit left with the witch?”

“That’s right.”

“To put it bluntly… it’s impossible.”

“…Impossible?”

Hugo scowled, his expression turning feral as he growled the question. Oswald raised his hands calmly, clapping his palms together once to draw focus, before continuing.

“The bond between a witch and a spirit is far stronger than you might imagine. The reason is that witches don’t create heirs through physical unions, as humans or animals do. Instead, they produce successors through a mental and spiritual union with the spirit.”

“Created… with a spirit?”

“Yes. They are miraculous beings born not in a womb, but inside a flower. That is why those called witches are all women.”

It was something Giselle had never mentioned. In fact, she herself might not even have known. Oswald, recalling the grim contents of an old book, hesitated briefly before speaking of what he had read long ago.

“In my youth, I came across records of witch hunts. They detailed who was hunted, how they were hunted, and the methods used. Many witches, like Hugo’s teacher, had spirits who left behind their power before disappearing.”

“You said spirits don’t fade easily, yet it seems it happened frequently in the past.”

“Well, it’s understandable. Only those with the witches’ unique, foreign magic can see and hear spirits, so it’s natural they would be cherished. Furthermore, for a spirit to leave its power behind and vanish… Forgive me for being blunt, but this typically happened when the witch they were bound to faced a life-threatening situation.”

“A life-threatening situation?”

“…These witches couldn’t be killed by fire or drowned in water, so they were ultimately dismembered, had stakes driven into their hearts, and were buried alive. When buried, they were placed in stone coffins filled with insects.”

Oswald had been haunted by nightmares for days after reading those revolting records. Because witches couldn’t be killed, such atrocities were committed against them. That such inhumane acts were carried out by priests was a truth that, if revealed, would cause immense controversy. However, Oswald was certain Hugo would care little for such matters.

As expected, Hugo’s expression didn’t change. He merely ran a hand irritably through his hair and muttered under his breath.

“So, their power doesn’t disappear until the witch dies.”

“In time, the power may weaken naturally. However, by then, new spirits will likely lend their power to the witch again.”

Hugo cursed softly. They had come so close to resolving the issue, only to find themselves back at square one. The thought that Giselle might outlive him and Ian—and that the two of them might die first—filled him with frustration.

In that moment, a thought flashed through Hugo’s mind like lightning.

Only those with the unique magic of witches could see and hear spirits. Which meant that, aside from Giselle, the only ones currently capable of such were himself and Ian.

If a witch’s power stemmed from spirits and allowed them to live such long lives, then couldn’t he and Ian also live similarly?

“…That actually sounds better.”

Though Hugo and Ian were young now, time would inevitably age them. But if they could remain by her side forever, wouldn’t that be a kind of happiness?

As a slow smile spread across Hugo’s face, Oswald instinctively realized he had made a grave mistake. For a moment, Hugo’s youthful grin made him look his age, but his voice was unusually bright as he spoke.

“You were so confident, and you’ve indeed given me the answer I wanted.”

“W-what? Then…!”

“There’s one more thing I asked about.”

Hugo was referring to the magic that used blood as a medium. Oswald’s eyes shifted uneasily. Revealing the details wasn’t difficult, but an inexplicable sense of foreboding weighed on him.

However, the sight of Hugo seeming satisfied gave Oswald a faint hope that Leslie might yet be saved. After hesitating briefly, Oswald cautiously began to speak.

“A magic was performed using the blood of the king and queen, Their Majesties. Through it, we could determine whether those who shared their blood were alive or dead… That is how we discovered that you and Ian were still alive.”

“Can anyone use that magic?”

“It’s not a particularly difficult magic, but as I mentioned, it relies on blood as the medium. Without Their Majesties’ blood…”

Oswald trailed off, cautiously observing Hugo as though gauging his intentions. Surely, he wouldn’t… Surely, he wasn’t actually considering killing the king and queen. Was he?

“Hugo, I—”

At that very moment, it happened.

Oswald’s vision flipped upside down. In one blink of those narrow, golden eyes, his world turned on its head. Hugo’s face, which had been upright, now appeared inverted.

“Thanks for sharing something useful, but I can’t trust someone who lies every time they open their mouth.”

Oswald’s head rolled across the narrow floor, bumping against the wall. The body it had been attached to stood rigid for a moment, blood gushing from the severed neck, before collapsing limply to the ground.

Hugo leaned down, wiping the blood off his dagger with Oswald’s robes before slipping the blade back into his clothes.

Even though his head had been cleanly severed, the old priest’s consciousness lingered. And he saw a vision—an echo of the prophecy he had witnessed twenty years ago, just after Hugo and Ian were born.

In that vision, the king and queen were killed by the hands of their two sons: the brother with golden eyes and the brother with blue eyes. The kingdom burned to the ground.

That was why Oswald had proclaimed the prophecy. That was why he had warned that the twins born on the moonless night would bring calamity to the land.

He had known this day would come. Yet, he hadn’t foreseen it happening here. His death was supposed to come later—after Leslie became king, after Oswald had turned him into a puppet to enjoy wealth and power, and after he had passed peacefully in his bed.

But now, as the edges of his vision darkened, he could feel nothing. His senses were fading, leaving him adrift in a void.

Then, suddenly, a new vision began to appear before Oswald’s dimming eyes. This one was of a near future, not far off.

A woman with pearlescent white hair stood before the brothers, flames bursting forth from her body and engulfing them. As the fire consumed Hugo and Ian, burning them to ash, the woman screamed and wept in anguish.

It was their fate—to be killed by their teacher in the end.

Oswald couldn’t laugh at this final scene, nor could he warn them. The dead are silent, after all.

Hugo glanced down briefly at Oswald’s severed head, its eyes still open wide, before stepping out through the window and disappearing into the night.

* * *