Ch.383The Witch of the Basement

The basement was much larger than I expected.

Almost to the point where I wondered if it was bigger than the mansion itself.

[ The air here is quite filthy. How unpleasant. ]

‘Wouldn’t it be a suitable place for mops and bugs to live? It was originally Isabella Wittelsbach’s secret space, after all.’

That woman seemed to like vast, damp, humid, and smelly caves like her own crotch.

Claire van Sigmillus would probably like it too. She must have lived with a lake-sized cave between her legs as well.

Though I heard Ophelia van Sigmillus restored it through magical surgery.

[ To think someone would live in such a place, that sorceress wench must have quite the strong stomach. ]

No matter how strong her stomach is, it can’t be stronger than yours.

You didn’t even gag once while eating people in a place reeking of entrails.

—-

Unlike the corridor, Ophelia van Sigmillus’s laboratory was surprisingly pleasant.

Did she only purify the space where she frequently stayed?

The musty feeling typical of underground spaces had completely disappeared, as if outside air was being circulated.

“I’m here.”

“Oh? That was quicker than expected. Something must have happened in the eastern plains?”

Ophelia van Sigmillus seemed to have roughly guessed what was going on just from my early arrival.

“I heard there’s trouble in the Ka’har homeland. Something about an evil sorceress appearing. Speaking of evil sorceresses, there’s one right here.”

Look at that.

She’s set up a children’s anatomy class with a mini Isabella Wittelsbach again.

“That’s harsh. By that logic, wouldn’t the person commanding such a subordinate be even more evil?”

“What are you saying? I’m an honorable paladin who reformed an evil sorceress.”

“Come to think of it, you’re an honorary paladin now… Here stands living proof that the Church has finally lost its mind. Do you pray to God and get Dark Mana instead of holy power?”

Ophelia van Sigmillus chuckled, put down her dissection tools, and removed her gloves.

Then her thin white fingers slipped between her cleavage and pulled out a long Mana Herb.

…Why did that come from there?

Mages are truly incomprehensible.

—-

I smoked with Ophelia van Sigmillus while examining the newly born Isabella Wittelsbach.

“Hieeeek… hieeeek…”

Isabella Wittelsbach, nailed to the desk, was surprisingly in a similar state to the Ka’har prisoner I had operated on.

With all internal organs except the heart and lungs removed, the inside of her wide-open belly was almost completely empty.

Or perhaps she never had those to begin with.

Additionally, very fine iron needles were inserted into the nerves connected to her spine.

Anyone could see they were decorations for electrical stimulation.

…This woman knows how to interrogate.

I never expected a pure mage, not even from the modern world, to reach this level.

Perhaps it’s true that sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from science.

“So, what exactly are you trying to find out by opening up Isabella Wittelsbach?”

“Hmm? Oh. I’m not interrogating her, just checking nerve sensitivity through pain reflexes. Currently the limit is about 30-50 times, but ultimately I’d like to increase sensitivity to 3000 times.”

At 3000 times sensitivity, wouldn’t a simple poke cause death from shock…?

Anyway, leaving Isabella Wittelsbach’s disposal to Ophelia van Sigmillus seems to have been an excellent choice.

She could literally be called a genius of torture.

“But it’s a bit disappointing. I wanted to hear what she’d babble about, but every time I visit, she seems incapable of conversation.”

“Conversation is possible though. This specimen just closed her mouth when she saw you, but her language center is still intact. Until just now, she was begging me to stop.”

Oh really?

That’s welcome news.

I immediately leaned my face toward Isabella Wittelsbach and grinned.

“Oh my, our dear witch. Were you embarrassed to be seen begging with tears and snot running down your face? Pretending to be mute and all. I almost fell for it.”

“……”

Isabella Wittelsbach gave no answer. As if she didn’t want to exchange words with me.

But here’s the thing. Criminals don’t have the right to remain silent. Nor the right to an attorney.

That’s a principle from the original world, but I don’t think it’s any different here.

“Why so serious, Madam Witch? Smile. I said smile. You’ve achieved immortality that you couldn’t attain even after consuming eight thousand people. So you should smile. Like this.”

I smiled broadly, pulling up the corners of my mouth, and forced a smile onto Isabella Wittelsbach’s face with two fingers.

“See? You look better when you smile. You’re too stupid to understand your situation, but smiling actually has pain-reducing effects. Considering the pain you’re about to experience, isn’t that advice worth carving into your bones?”

Isabella Wittelsbach frowned but still said nothing.

Acting stubborn when she’d scream like a pig at the slightest prick of a needle.

“Oh, what was it you said to me before… That you’d make me lick between your thighs? That seems impossible with that body of yours. How about licking mine instead? Like a dog.”

When I giggled and pointed at my crotch with my finger, Isabella Wittelsbach’s expression twisted violently.

[ Don’t say such deranged things…! If you dare do such a thing with my body, someday I will surely…! ]

Aishan-Gioro Hersella threatened in a horrified voice.

She sounded like a girl who had discovered a caterpillar crawling into her underwear. I didn’t know she could make such a voice.

‘No, it’s obviously a joke. I’m not crazy enough to actually do that. Disgusting.’

It was just something I said to mock Isabella Wittelsbach.

“Did someone sew your mouth shut? No answer. Should I call Leonore Wittelsbach? I think he’d be quite happy to reunite with Madam Witch.”

He might not just be happy but prepare batter while cheering.

“Witch fritters are popular these days. Oh, you might not know what witch fritters are. It’s something Leonore Wittelsbach created, where a witch’s body is deep-fried in oil…”

“……Don’t be so arrogant. You vulgar, stinking barbarian wench…!”

Finally, Isabella Wittelsbach opened her mouth. Though it was just an insult.

“I may be a barbarian… but aren’t you the vulgar and stinking one? You still reek of rot.”

“……Do you think you’ve won? Enjoy that feeling while you can. Someday you’ll be screaming and wailing…!”

Putting on airs while looking like a frog with electrodes stuck in it.

“Screaming and wailing? That would be you. I heard you were begging Ophelia van Sigmillus while sobbing. Ernst Wittelsbach should have seen that.”

I brought the cigarette from my fingertips to Isabella Wittelsbach’s belly.

Perhaps feeling the heat of the cigarette on her electrode-pierced nerves, Isabella Wittelsbach’s expression stiffened.

“You dare…!”

She tried to act calm, but even Isabella Wittelsbach seemed to find it difficult to endure nerve pain at 30 times sensitivity, as her pupils trembled.

“Our witch is scared, so scared. Aww, poor thing. Are you afraid of pain now? Without your Dark Mana, you’re no different from a child.”

“……”

Isabella Wittelsbach closed her mouth again. She didn’t want to speak anymore, it seemed.

Then I’ll have to make her open it.

I inserted my finger deeper.

– Sizzle!

The sound of burning meat. Exposed nerves shriveled as they were seared by the cigarette.

“GYAAAAAAACK-!”

Isabella Wittelsbach let out a shriek and twisted her entire body.

Rolling her eyes and thrashing her head wildly, she reminded me of a metal singer who had overdosed on heroin.

“Hahaha! ‘Gyaaack’? What kind of scream is that! This is killing me!”

I burst into laughter and took out the extinguished cigarette butt, crumpling it.

Even after the cigarette was removed, Isabella Wittelsbach continued to convulse like an electrocuted pig before going limp.

Is she dead?

“…Haschal Median Aishan-Gioro. I was still experimenting with that.”

“Oh sorry. I couldn’t help myself. Make a new one and use it.”

I shrugged and took out a new cigarette.

—-

After throwing Isabella Wittelsbach, who had become an ashtray, into a dissolving solution, I talked with Ophelia van Sigmillus for a while.

“How’s Claire van Sigmillus? Is she still in that state?”

“Yes, more or less. I’m experimenting on Isabella Wittelsbach because I don’t know what might happen to my sister if I tamper with her mind or brain…”

Ophelia van Sigmillus let out a long sigh.

Anyone watching would think she was a caring sister worried about her ill sibling.

In reality, she’s a completely depraved sister who continues to torment her sibling even after reducing her to infantile regression through all kinds of torture, including sexual torture.

Both sisters truly embody the saying “you reap what you sow” like few others.

We didn’t just talk about Claire van Sigmillus.

“You know where Asha’s workshop is, right? I left Rurik’s hide with her, so you should go there and order an outfit too.”

Self-repairing werewolf king leather armor. The highest quality equipment that can’t be found anywhere else.

You could call it an exclusive welfare service for Épée de Ciel.

“Rurik? Oh, you mean that wolf king. Leather clothes aren’t really my style… Should I ask for boots and a cloak instead?”

“It’s quite useful, you know? Even a blind thrust won’t pierce it, and it repairs itself automatically if torn.”

“That’s impressive.”

Ophelia van Sigmillus whistled, seeming a bit surprised.

—-

After telling her about Jahan, we went up to the ground floor together.

Since we’d be living in the same house now, we should at least know each other’s faces.

Demian and Millia had also finished cleaning up and were in the corridor.

We joined them and headed to the reception room.

“Oh, right. Demian. I must tell you this.”

“What is it?”

I whispered into the ear of Demian, who tilted his head curiously.

“About our encounter at the hot spring in the north. Never mention it. If you say even a word about it, you’re dead.”

Jahan would go crazy and beat you to death.

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

Demian nodded.