Ch.358Isabella Juice

When Ophelia returned, she was holding a strange creature in her hands.

A lump of flesh about the size of a human head. As the term “toy” might suggest, its silhouette resembled a doll more than a living being.

“Is this… Isabella…?”

“That’s right. Claire damaged her a bit though.”

Ophelia looked down at the creature she was holding with an expression like she was staring at filthy waste.

“Hueeek, gak, guheeee…”

It drooled bloody foam and saliva through its gaping mouth while emitting bizarre groans.

As if it had forgotten human language.

…This seems beyond “a bit damaged.”

Have you ever seen the fingertips of children playing in grassy fields during autumn?

Eight or nine times out of ten, those hands will be holding an unfortunate dragonfly.

One with wings and legs torn off, sometimes even the tail, due to children’s curiosity and mischief.

Among them, there are occasionally children who tear off the tail tip and stick in something like a twig.

That was Isabella’s current state.

The difference from a dragonfly might be that the object stuck into her wasn’t a twig.

A blood-red quill pen had penetrated her groin and was deeply embedded in her torso.

“Ah, iheek, giiik…!”

Every time the quill pen stuck between her legs fluttered in the breeze, Isabella convulsed violently and cried like an insect.

Purple blood streamed from her torn limbs.

“…She looks in really bad shape.”

It was certainly a miserable appearance.

But the Isabella who fought with me should be able to endure wounds of this level.

She would express pain, but not to the point of being unable to speak and having seizures….

“I maximized the pain receptors when creating the homunculus. In other words, ’30 times sensitivity.'”

…It’s a miracle she hasn’t died from shock.

—-

We headed to the laboratory with the trembling Isabella.

Claire clung to Ophelia, whining for her to play, but when Ophelia gently told her to wait patiently, she nodded and returned to the room.

Crawling.

Her severed wrists had been restored, presumably treated by Ophelia, but below her ankles remained completely empty.

Back in the laboratory, Ophelia pulled the quill pen straight out from Isabella’s body, who was still disoriented.

“Agyagyagyagyak-!”

Blood and entrails were messily entangled on the blood-red quill.

The pen that had been embedded in her body was nearly 10cm long. Considering her size, it must have penetrated all the way to her neck.

“This is unusable now.”

“Couldn’t you still write in purple ink with it?”

Though the smell would be quite strong.

“No, I meant this thing, not the quill.”

Ah, she was talking about Isabella.

Ophelia shook Isabella, who was gasping and wheezing.

“Hieek…! Hieek…!”

She seems to have completely lost her mind.

Through the limp blonde hair, I caught glimpses of purple pupils, half-rolled back and trembling.

Her eyes were completely unfocused and empty.

“Are you sure she’s still conscious?”

“More or less? The life of the philosopher’s stone hasn’t expired yet. With the body damaged like this, we’ll have to discard it and make a new one.”

Ophelia picked up a glass tank from the shelf and placed it on the table.

A colorless, transparent liquid, half-filling the tank, sloshed heavily.

“What’s that?”

“Dissolving solution. It’s toxic, so don’t smell it up close.”

Ophelia skillfully manipulated mana to completely envelop the tank with an air barrier, then placed the dying mini-Isabella inside and half-closed the lid.

– Tssssssssss!

Along with the sound of burning meat, fierce smoke filled the inside of the air barrier.

“Kiaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Isabella let out a terrible scream.

Her widely opened mouth split to her ears.

Bubbles swelled all over her body. She twisted her short limbs in all directions as if swimming in the tank.

Her bulging eyeballs looked like they might pop out… no, they actually did pop out.

The eyeballs that flowed out through her torn eye corners sank to the bottom of the tank and melted.

“Gyaaaaa-!”

Isabella’s screams continued for a while.

Until she melted like thick jelly and finally turned into a thin porridge.

Eventually, all that remained was the slightly cloudy dissolving solution and a small green gem emitting light.

“It’s over.”

Ophelia blew the blackened air bubble toward the ventilation duct in the ceiling, then carefully removed the green gem from the dissolving solution with tongs.

“…You said 30 times sensitivity. How does she not go insane from that?”

“As long as the soul stone remains intact, the soul sealed inside can’t easily go mad even if it wants to. When the homunculus is severely damaged, or after three days since creation, the mana synchronization of the philosopher’s stone weakens and the sense of self begins to fade… but once I make a new body, she immediately returns to normal. She curses so much each time that it’s annoying to hear. What did she call me? A true witch?”

“……”

Isn’t that a very objective and cold assessment?

“So there’s still a long way to go. I need to maintain her sense of self while eliminating her rebellious spirit to properly use her for interrogation or other purposes. In her current state, she’s just a stress-relief toy.”

“What do you want to use her for?”

Using Isabella doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.

“To interrogate her about those who worked with her, or to make her reveal the magic she knows, things like that.”

Hmm… that would certainly be useful.

But only if Isabella cooperates willingly.

If I were Isabella, I’d teach magic but twist the formulas to make the caster self-destruct.

Well, Ophelia probably knows that too.

“Since her consciousness is maintained through soul synchronization rather than the brain, brainwashing won’t work… so I need to break her spirit through torture… but it’s not easy. I’ve tried burning her alive, deep-frying her in boiling oil, and grafting her with insects and beasts, but she still has her defiance.”

She’s tough, really tough.

She endured all that with 30 times sensitivity? Hasn’t she become even tougher than when she was alive?

“It will take some time. Well, you can handle that part. So… what did Claire do to make her end up like that? And what about her sister?”

“Well….”

As if it wasn’t something to discuss lightly, Ophelia hesitated briefly before taking out a long mana herb and putting it in her mouth.

I also took out a cigarette and lit it.

“An unintended situation… or rather, an unexpected accident. In short, my sister’s mind was much weaker than I thought. I didn’t expect her to escape into oblivion instead of living with the ‘happiness’ I bestowed upon her. The current Claire doesn’t remember anything. Not her past, not common sense. She doesn’t even remember having a younger sister.”

Ophelia blew cigarette smoke while staring into space.

“At first, she was practically an idiot. What you see now is the result of my attempts to fix her. I restored her language ability and a child-like sense of self, but for some reason, she thinks of me as her older sister, not her younger sister. I thought meeting you might bring some change… but that seems wrong too.”

So her mind collapsed and she regressed to infancy, is what you’re saying.

“It’s quite troublesome. I can’t punish her when she’s like this. Rewards maybe, but not punishment.”

I’m not so sure. Either would have been punishment for Claire.

That’s why she ended up in this state.

—-

After that, we smoked together for a while and discussed various matters.

What happened in the north. The news that Demian and Millia had become a Master couple, and that I had become the heir to the marquis family.

“So, if you have nowhere to go, how about becoming my exclusive mage? You can’t stay here forever. Now that you’ve shed the accusation of being a witch, there’s no need to hide anymore.”

“Exclusive mage?”

Ophelia showed slight interest.

“Yes. I’m thinking of creating a small elite unit called ‘Épée de Ciel,’ composed solely of Master-level forces. Though it’s named ‘Sword of the Sky,’ I don’t intend to recruit only knights, so having magical power would be good.”

“You’re saying you want to hire me as a battle mage. Hmm… a battle mage. I do need money…”

It must have been a tempting offer for her.

To continue her magical research, she would eventually need financial support from somewhere, but few people would support her after seeing the content of her research.

It would be fortunate if they didn’t immediately arrest her and send her to the church’s interrogation room.

“Who else would hire you besides me? At best, you’d attract people like Isabella.”

“…You’re not wrong.”

True. In fact, those offering support might be far more dangerous.

What kind of person would support a mage who manipulates human souls? Only evil people with dark intentions.

It would be like diving headfirst into an abyss of evil.

“As it happens, I received Isabella’s mansion from Leopold. Isabella’s mansion surely has a basement or something, so why not set up a laboratory there and stay? Demian and Millia are also planning to stay there.”

“…Is that okay? Having a necromancer’s den in the basement of the famous ‘Knight of Radiance’s’ mansion. Is that really acceptable?”

“It’s fine as long as no one finds out. Unless you cross the line.”

If she starts experimenting on innocent people or digging up graves to collect souls, I’d have no choice but to behead her myself.

“…I’ll consider it positively. Though it will take quite some time to organize everything here before moving.”

Ophelia nodded.

Good, that’s another useful force added to our ranks.

[…Are you seriously going to accept this woman? This madwoman who is like the word ‘dark mage’ given human form? I don’t think this is a good decision.]

A mad dark mage… honestly, I can’t say she’s not mad.

But living in this world, I’ve found that there isn’t a talented strong person who isn’t mad.

Ophelia seems about average by those standards.

What a frightening world this is.