Ch. 94 The Witch and the Black Knight (5)
by Afuhfuihgs
Witch – Chapter 94 – The Witch and the Black Knight (5)
The unfamiliar sensation of the blanket kept the Black Knight from falling asleep easily.
Though he couldn’t properly feel the texture of the fabric over his cold, ever-present armor, the strangeness of it lingered in his mind.
When even the unfamiliar felt unfamiliar, he dimly realized—this was what warmth was.
A warmth he had never known in the demon realm.
No, perhaps he had felt it before. A long, long time ago.
Buried deep in forgotten memories, he dredged up some long-lost emotion.
Hazy as it was, he seemed to recall feeling this same warmth in someone’s embrace.
Whose?
Why had it felt so comforting?
In his world, another’s embrace was usually a target—something to be struck down, not cherished.
The Black Knight closed his eyes and traced his memories backward.
Before his defeat by the Demon King.
Before piecing together his armor from scraps.
…Before becoming a nameless orphan.
Back when he had a name. Back when he was so young he could barely speak, barely do anything on his own. He sifted through memories turned to ash, burned away by time.
Normally, he would never—could never—do this. But if this warmth was somehow tied to pure love, then perhaps it was worth digging through the ruins of his past.
‘Hmm, hmm, hmm~’
A woman’s humming echoed in his ears. A voice he had never heard before.
Yet somehow familiar.
Somehow nostalgic.
The lullaby wrapped around him like the blanket, filling him with that same warmth.
Who was she?
Why did her presence soothe him so?
The Black Knight, who had only ever sought strength, now found himself desperate to uncover the truth hidden in his heart.
He strained to open his heavy eyelids, but they refused to budge.
Through the foggy haze of his dream, a woman—presumably the singer—looked down at him and smiled.
“…”
She met his gaze, her expression bright and joyful as she spoke.
He couldn’t understand the words, but instinctively, he knew—it was his name.
One he thought he had forgotten.
One he never expected to hear again.
But names meant little to the Black Knight. What mattered was her.
Frail. Weak. By all rights, she should have been prey.
Yet her smile unsettled him.
Why was she smiling?
‘Why is she smiling? Is that too a form of pure love?’
His lips wouldn’t move, as if mocking his attempt to speak. But the Black Knight wasn’t one to dwell on the impossible. Instead, he focused his fading vision, committing her face to memory.
If he asked the strong one later, she might know.
Why this woman made him feel so warm.
Whether this was connected to pure love.
The blurred image slowly sharpened.
Pink hair brushed against his face.
Pink…?
‘Awake now?’
“Awake now?”
The woman’s voice and the strong one’s overlapped.
Had he fallen asleep? When he glanced at the window, sunlight streamed in where there had only been darkness moments before.
His body felt light.
Even as a Heavenly King, he had never slept so soundly. Maybe it was the blanket’s doing. Not that the demon realm lacked blankets—but none had ever felt this warm.
More importantly, the wounds from last night’s battle seemed to have healed. Moving was much easier now.
“How are you feeling? Better? No point explaining pure love to an injured patient—they never listen. Consider this a freebie.”
“A freebie?”
“Something like that.”
Suspicious, the Black Knight sat up and channeled his demonic energy, checking every inch of his body.
…Something was off. He frowned.
“What did you do to me?”
“Nothing major. Just added a few rules. Necessary for getting stronger. Now, eyes up here.”
“…What rules?”
If it would make him stronger, he was willing to do anything. But rules were a foreign concept to the Black Knight.
Come to think of it, ever since arriving in the human realm and meeting the strong one, unfamiliar things had been assaulting his mind.
Pure love. Love. Sexual harassment? Freebies. Rules.
Lust, at least, was something the Succubus Queen had mentioned—but he’d never paid attention to her ramblings. For all intents and purposes, these were all new words to him.
“Stay put for a hundred years, don’t harm Josie, and… other stuff?”
The strong one averted her eyes, which only deepened his confusion. She didn’t seem to be lying, but she was clearly omitting something. Still, he didn’t press further.
As long as he learned pure love, defeated her, and rid himself of this discomfort, nothing else mattered.
As he rose from the couch, the blanket draped over his armor slid off.
Blanket. Warmth. Dream.
Fragments of his dream flashed through his mind—the woman’s smile last of all. He wanted to ask if it was connected to pure love.
“Strong one. I had a dream.”
“Huh? What kind?”
“A woman held me and smiled.”
The strong one paused, then suddenly grinned and elbowed him playfully.
“Oho~! Good instincts! After all that ‘what’s pure love, what’s love’ nonsense, your subconscious already has an ideal type, huh? What did she look like?”
“Ideal… type?”
Another unfamiliar term. But he tried to recall the woman’s face anyway.
Her features remained blurred, fading further with each passing second.
The only thing he remembered clearly was the pink hair—
Wait.
Had the woman in his dream had pink hair?
No. Now that he thought about it, it had probably been white, like his own hidden beneath his helmet.
The strong one couldn’t possibly know his name, nor would she have held him as a child. Most of all, she was nothing like the fragile woman in his dream.
“I don’t remember.”
“Tch. What a waste. Could’ve been a big step toward pure love.”
She sighed dramatically, as if personally disappointed.
So dreams were connected to pure love. He didn’t fully understand, but her reaction confirmed his hunch.
“However…”
“However? Spit it out already!”
Perking up, she leaned in eagerly.
If she had a tail, it would’ve been wagging. The beastfolk in the demon realm acted much the same when curious.
“…It was warm.”
“Warm?”
“Yes. Like the blanket.”
He picked it up and handed it to her. She stared between him and the blanket, sniffed it, then grimaced and tossed it aside.
The Black Knight’s gaze lingered on where it landed. An inexplicable sense of loss twisted in his chest, as if he’d formed some strange attachment to the thing.
“You felt warmth through your armor? Impressive.”
“But it’s true.”
Somehow, despite the metal separating him from the fabric, the warmth had been undeniable. He couldn’t explain it, but he had felt it.
Even if it was just his imagination.
“Well, good. Being able to notice things like that is important. Proves you’re not just a muscle-brained idiot obsessed with strength. That’s enough for now. Thanks for sharing.”
‘Thanks? For what?’
While he pondered that, the strong one plopped onto the couch and patted the space beside her.
“Sit.”
Without protest, he obeyed.
“Ahem!”
She pulled out a book from somewhere, cleared her throat, and thrust the cover in his face. Bewildered, he could only watch in silence.
He had seen the Demon King’s prized books in the castle library—but the Black Knight had never learned to read or write.
“I thought long and hard last night, and I found the perfect beginner’s guide to pure love for you! Took forever to dig up—I had to raid Josie’s bookshelf and everything!”
“And that is?”
“Behold! Estelle’s Fairytale Collection of Love and Happiness: Pure Love Edition! With this, you too can become a master of romance!”
Though illiterate, he could guess that was the title.
“I can’t read.”
“No worries! I’ll read it to you. Just sit back, listen, and feel. Oh, and you’ll need to give me a 100-page book report afterward. …What? Can’t write? Fine, verbal answers are acceptable.”
The Strong One’s eyes sparkled as she opened the dust-covered book to its first page. Sunk deep into the sofa, her legs swung back and forth without touching the floor, while she hummed a familiar-sounding tune through her nose.
Lucent
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