Chapter 42: Chapter 42: Helga City Rampage Victims’ Association

Having just formed our party, we returned to the inn since it would take some time to find work suited to two magicians.

Leaving the guild had been an ordeal. The stares were intense.

If looks could kill, I would have died a hundred times over.

I’d never imagined anyone would be jealous of me over a woman, so the experience left me feeling… strange.

“Are you sure it’s all right for me to use this room?” Tatiana asked, pacing around the room.

“For now, it’s fine.”

Sharing a room with her wasn’t exactly ideal, but there wasn’t much choice.

She had a bit of savings, but not enough to spend freely without an income.

Besides, we never know when we might need money or face unexpected expenses.

She’s a woman, after all, and it’s better to save up now, especially given that she doesn’t seem like the sort to invite trouble.

I mean… she’s basically a grandmother.

I stifled a laugh, recalling the look of shock on the innkeeper’s face when we’d said we’d be sharing a room.

When I’d explained, his jaw had dropped so far that I thought it might unhinge.

Who knew people could actually look that surprised?

“Thank you,” Tatiana said, standing in the middle of the room with a slight bow.

Don’t get all formal on me now—it’s embarrassing.

“But what about that bard? Do you think he’ll be all right? Can he make it on his own now?”

I’d heard from the innkeeper that the bard had left the city. Apparently, someone had seen a dancer leaving with him.

The gates had barely opened that morning before he’d departed.

Funny, since the dancer he was looking for was standing right here.

“He’ll be fine. The person who was afraid of your mother is effectively gone. He’ll keep traveling as a bard and eventually settle down somewhere. His memories of the dancer will fade over time. I made sure of that.”

Tatiana gave a slight smile.

“There’s a slight chance that meeting me again could break the spell, so it’s best we don’t cross paths. That’s why I wanted him to leave quickly.”

“So the witness… you set that up?”

“Yes. I’d prepared in advance, selecting a few people whose memories I’d adjusted. If Muel mentioned his missing wife, they’d recall seeing her.”

Useful skill.

No wonder witches aren’t exactly welcome in society.

People wouldn’t want their memories altered without their knowledge.

While not every witch could do that, other witches probably had their own ways of wielding influence.

I motioned for her to sit on the bed and started to speak.

“Since we’re a team now, we should probably know the basics about each other.”

“Yes, of course. We’re a party now,” Tatiana replied, nodding eagerly.

I crossed my arms. Better start with what I was most curious about.

“Can witches change forms? I mean, do you only turn into women, or could you also change into a man?”

“Transform? No, we can’t do that. Witches are human, after all.”

Tatiana covered her mouth as she laughed.

“But you looked like a completely different person when you were the dancer.”

“Oh!”

“So… what’s your real form? Do you have other faces?”

Tatiana hesitated, but I spoke before she could answer.

“Don’t lie to me. Before we formed a party, I wouldn’t have cared, but things are different now. If it’s truly something you can’t share, just say that honestly.”

“….”

“If I catch you lying to me, this partnership is over.”

“….”

Tatiana fell silent.

“What’s your true form?”

“… It’s….”

Tatiana bit her lip and thought for a long moment before finally speaking.

“This is a secret.”

“….”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“….”

“Really, you can’t.”

“All right.”

“I am… I’ve learned everything there is to know about being a witch. I have the skills, and my teacher even acknowledged me as a true witch, so technically, I am one. But… I don’t have a witch’s name….”

Her voice grew softer and softer until she whispered so quietly I could barely hear her.

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“In truth, I’m not the witch Dorthe.”

“Then who is?”

I asked, and she replied in an even smaller voice.

“My teacher.”

“So… you’re using your teacher’s name to fool people?”

Tatiana shook her head so hard it looked like it might fall off.

“No, never! This was her order. I’m not tricking anyone.”

I didn’t quite understand.

If her teacher was the witch Dorthe, then couldn’t Tatiana simply operate under a new name?

When I asked, Tatiana’s shoulders slumped.

“Before she passed away, my teacher instructed me to carry on as the witch Dorthe. I became her successor.”

I thought about the stories she had shared and frowned.

“Then the witch who was friends with the bard—that was your teacher?”

“Yes. I only know what I’ve heard about those days.”

“….”

So… she’s not a grandmother?

I couldn’t help but swallow.

“How old are you, then?”

“… Twenty.”

“Twenty?”

Younger than me?

Really?

Seeing my astonished expression, Tatiana quickly added, “But my abilities are real. I might be young, but I know magic and herbs. I remember everything my teacher taught me about phoenixes and other magical creatures. I even recognized your bird right away. I’ll be a real help to you.”

“It’s not that… I just… you’re really only twenty?”

“… Yes.”

She looked up at me with an almost bashful expression, and I swallowed again.

The god of romance had finally blessed me.

With this intimidating face, I’d never dreamed of dating, let alone getting close to a woman. But here was my chance.

“Tatiana.”

“….”

“So, what’s your real face? The dancer’s? Or is it this one? Or is there yet another?”

Please, let it be this one.

Please, this one.

The dancer was pretty, but this face was a thousand times more beautiful.

This face.

I was practically begging her with my eyes, and Tatiana looked at me as if a little frightened.

Previously, she’d hidden behind a veil of bravado, so I hadn’t really noticed her vulnerability. But now, looking into her eyes, I could see it clearly.

Left alone in this world after years in the forest with her teacher and the bard, she was afraid of being alone.

Maybe that was why she wanted to form a party with me.

Perhaps that was why she was sharing these secrets.

Ah, of course.

Maybe she was just frightened by my intense expression.

When I get serious, I tend to look intimidating.

Even my smile is unsettling, and my serious face is worse.

I remembered the look on my mother’s face when she got serious and closed my eyes.

When I was younger, even I sometimes found my mother’s expression terrifying.

Calm down.

To a stranger, my serious face must be a weapon of its own.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself to stay calm.

I remembered quotes from old philosophers—“to come with nothing, to go with nothing”—even if the meaning didn’t seem relevant.

But still, my expression was probably terrifying.

I was so eager to hear her answer that my face must have been giving off a silent Answer me. Now.

I knew it.

My face probably looked like a ghost who’d overdone it at the gym.

I counted backward in my head, breathing deeply. Then finally, I looked at her again, calm.

“So… which is your true face?”

Tatiana seemed to find my changing expressions strange. Maybe even amusing.

She tilted her head in mild confusion before replying.

“This one is my true face.”

“….”

Excellent.

Just excellent.

I felt relief well up from deep inside me.

Then a thought struck me.

True, it’s one thing to change one’s appearance, but this face and the dancer’s were completely different.

Not just a difference in skin tone, but the entire structure.

When I asked her about it, Tatiana smiled brightly.

“My teacher taught me.”

She pulled a cloth pouch from her bag, taking out a small block of wood and some cream-like containers, laying them out in front of me.

“I use this wooden piece to change my face shape. Each piece is carved differently, so I can create a unique look each time. This cream alters the color and texture of my skin, and these little pads go under my eyes to adjust their shape. A small change in the eyes makes a huge difference.”

Tatiana proudly showed off her kit, then took out another pouch.

“This one’s for the body. You can place them on your abdomen or shoulders to change their appearance. When covered by clothes, it’s flawless. It’s called special effects makeup.”

Special effects makeup?

That term sounded vaguely familiar.

Maybe her teacher was someone like me—someone reincarnated from another world or perhaps transported here from Earth.

Since she had passed on, I’d never know for sure.

When I asked her to describe her teacher’s appearance, Tatiana gazed into the distance with a nostalgic look.

“She had a lot of wrinkles. Even when I was young, she was covered in them. As I grew up, the wrinkles seemed to grow too. I never knew what she looked like before then.”

It sounded like her teacher had truly fit the image of a witch.

Though Muel’s memories depicted her wandering for years, she’d only left the forest a few months ago.

That would explain why she seemed so unfamiliar with the world.

Well, from now on, she could rely on me.

I offered her a reassuring smile and extended my hand.

“Let’s look out for each other from here on, Tatiana.”

“Thank you, Rafa.” She took my hand with a cheerful laugh.

“But your smile is… really frightening.”

“….”

I know.

When I was young, I thought the same whenever my mother smiled.

----------------------------------------

“Are you really going?”

One of his former subordinates looked at him, concerned.

Abel nodded gravely.

“Captain, you could just let it go…”

The man hobbled forward, one leg dragging, and grabbed Abel’s arm.

Abel’s forehead furrowed as he looked at his subordinate’s leg.

The tendons had been severed.

He could walk, but without proper strength. He limped, unable even to run.

Thanks to Helga, his life was shattered.

Had she never entered the city, he would still be a city guard, leading an ordinary life.

Now, he was stuck working odd jobs at an inn.

Another member of the “Helga City Rampage Victims’ Association” shook his head.

“I understand, but I can’t live like this. When that savage fought the search party in the city, my shop was destroyed. I spent years saving up for that place.”

“Same here. Helga took everything from me. My life is all I have left, and I’ll never forgive her.”

Each member of the group shared their story in turn.

Abel sighed, prying his subordinate’s hand from his arm.

“I’m not the captain of the guard anymore. I’m just a regular adventurer.”

“Captain…”

His former subordinate looked at him sadly.

Abel understood.

The rumors from the trade city were unreliable, but there was no mistaking the recent reports.

Some claimed to have seen Helga; others spoke of a wind magician.

Some said it was a man, others a woman.

The only certainty was that whoever it was had slain multiple dragons alone.

The lord himself had confirmed it.

That’s enough for me.

Very few in this world could slay multiple dragons alone.

But if the person in question was a barbarian…

It has to be Helga. It has to be.

Abel ground his teeth.

He’d been waiting for years, hoping she would return.

When Helga had first appeared in the city, he was a rookie captain of the guard.

The previous captain had been a swine of a man, accepting bribes and allowing smugglers to pass freely, even embezzling funds meant for his subordinates.

Abel had sworn not to be like him, to be a decent captain who cared for his men.

But that resolve had been crushed from the very start.

The search party had come in pursuit of Helga.

The city was wrecked, and the responsibility fell on Abel. He was dismissed as soon as he’d become captain.

All because of Helga.

He wasn’t the only one.

Many people had lost family, homes, or livelihoods due to her rampage.

In response, Abel had organized the “Helga City Rampage Victims’ Association.”

They’d raised money, bought weapons, and trained under his guidance.

At first, there had been dozens of members. Now, only ten remained. But that was enough.

Not that I think we’ll kill her.

It wasn’t as though they’d already accepted failure.

Their goal was to kill Helga, but they knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Sigh.

Abel exhaled deeply.

Most of them—perhaps all of them—would not return.

For those who still had hope or someone to live for, it would be better if they stayed behind.

But for those who, like him, had nothing left but rage toward Helga, this was their last chance.

Abel looked into his subordinate’s eyes.

Once a young man, he was now grizzled with white hair and faded brows.

Time had aged him.

The rain made his back ache, his joints stiff.

“Don’t try to stop me. If I miss this chance, I’ll die an empty man.”

Before he went to his grave, he had to confront Helga and settle this score.

As Abel turned away, his former subordinate’s voice wavered with emotion.

“Thank you… for everything, Captain.”

“….”

Without a word, Abel left the building.

“Let’s go.”

At his command, the men of the “Helga City Rampage Victims’ Association” followed him, walking in silence.