Chapter 61 : Schindel Strasse (61)

From Alje’s perspective alone, the misunderstanding was more than just possible—it was inevitable.

The girl was pure.

And because she was so pure, she believed that her prince would never cheat on her with something as meaningless as a fling.

No, even if she didn’t believe it,Precisely because she didn’t believe it, she would obsessively try not to think about it even more.

In the end, to prevent the reality she lived in from clashing with the fantasy she dreamed of, she had no choice but to patch the contradictions with flimsy logic.

Lies give birth to more lies, and the more you try to look away, the closer the truth you tried to avoid creeps in.

A game of tag can’t go on forever.

Because, after all, it’s far easier and simpler to offload even that hatred onto someone else you already hate, than to face the pain of hating someone you actually love.

In the girl’s heart, the witch always had to be the villain.

“Right?”

If she truly believed that, she wouldn’t have asked again like that.

Maybe Hans had underestimated Alje’s purity far too much.

Contrary to common belief, purity is not synonymous with ignorance.

Naivety, maybe—but not purity.

True purity is something unshaken even in the face of knowledge.

Of course, it was still Hans’ fault, in a way—he had been so distracted he didn’t even bother trying to hide the evidence.

“…What do you mean by that?”

Hans’s response was just as much a desperate struggle.

“I’m not an idiot, mister.”

At that half-probing remark, Alje scowled deeply.

“I know everything. At the temple, people who shared the same bed got punished severely.”

She didn’t know.

To be precise, she didn’t know exactly what Hans and Gretel had done, but she seemed to understand what that act meant.

Even though Alje looked young, she was technically an adult by age.

It was hard to believe she could be this ignorant about sex—but her memories were those of a Saint.

Religion was ascetic.

And the Saint, born infertile, had faint desires by nature.

Judging from the fire in her eyes, it didn’t seem like that nature had entirely passed on to Alje.

“I get it. You probably didn’t have a choice, mister… But is the witch really that strong?”

“Don’t start thinking weird things, Alje.”

Still, that was that, and this was this.

Hans warned her with a firm voice.

“You’ve never seen the witch’s true power before. Well, actually, neither have I… But Alje, even if you’re a Saint, you don’t have a Guardian Knight.”

“But I have you, don’t I?”

“I can’t take the place of a Guardian Knight.”

Though he had once accepted a [Miracle] during the fight against the One-Winged Angel, Hans—who had neither been castrated nor lived a life of celibacy—could never wield the full power of a Guardian Knight.

Miracles are a power not for oneself, but for the sake of others.

So how could a bastard like him, who had become deeply assimilated with the Labyrinth, possess true selflessness?

“And even if you did have a Guardian Knight… the witch’s familiars are beyond that.And besides, how many witches do you think are here?”

Under the existence of the [Family], a system of forced cooperation weaves through the society of witches like a dense spiderweb.

The mysteries they wield, the familiars they control, all of that is terrifying—but above all.

“Alje. Have you never thought it was strange?”

“Huh?”

“Violence is prohibited in Heimvig. So why is Kumo Strasse so heavily stained with blood?”

The collapse of the system they had built.

What would happen if Heimvig disappeared?

If there were no places left in the Labyrinth to catch a breath, and people had to constantly remain outside the safe zones where the miasma wasn’t neutralized?

Anyone would die.

No matter how used to the poison someone was, no matter how well adapted, there was still a limit.

“Witches may be human in body.I know you have hostility toward them. I hate witches too.Maybe… maybe we could even kill one.But we mustn’t.”

“…Why?”

Alje looked up at him with innocent eyes and asked.

Hans’s heart sank.

The girl hadn’t said, “Killing is wrong,” or “I never meant to actually kill anyone.”

Of course, in this Labyrinth, such naive words would only come off as frustrating and out of touch with reality.

But that was exactly what Hans had hoped to hear from her.

“If a witch dies, a bloodstorm will rage through the entire Labyrinth.Not by their hands—but by ours.”

Anyone who kills a witch is brutally punished, without exception.

But the aftermath doesn’t just affect the killer—it sweeps over everyone else as well.

What do you think would happen if the familiars that enforce order and guard Heimvig’s rules suddenly disappeared overnight?

If they all retreated to the towers where the witches dwell and stopped trying to control anything beyond?

Witch killings were extremely rare—but not unheard of.

And every time it happened, the beasts that had been held at bay were unleashed.

Several days of mourning for a single dead witch.

And during that time, hundreds of people die in Heimvig.

“Honestly, during times like that, the outside of the Labyrinth is safer than the city itself. Even the carriage stations shut down, though that’s only if you manage to get out in time.”

“…It’s really that bad?”

“Yeah, Alje. No matter how well they try to hide it, the absence of a witch is always noticed. So don’t let pointless thoughts take root.”

The reason Hans was saying all this was because—truthfully—he himself had once thought the same way.

Back when he was more naive, less capable.

Even now, a part of him still entertains those thoughts.

His fondness for Gretel never managed to dilute his hatred for witches as a whole.

What had diluted that hatred was resignation—his head bowed before the towering wall of harsh reality.

“No, mister… That’s not what I meant to do…”

If only she had said that a little earlier.

Was the girl’s downcast, gloomy look genuine?

Were the words flowing from her lips a lie?

Still, Hans was the kind of man who was easily swayed by what he could see in front of him.

Even as he questioned whether this was right, Hans ended up gently pulling the dispirited girl into a hug.

“I just wanted to…”

“Yeah. You were worried about me—I know.”

She wrapped her arms around him so naturally.

He’d only meant to give her a quiet, comforting embrace and then let go… but somehow, without realizing, Hans found himself holding Alje tightly.

Or maybe it was just that Alje had burrowed that deeply into his arms.

Feeling the soft warmth pressing against him—not with force, but with gentle yielding—Hans couldn’t help but think:‘Is Gretel watching this?’

And then, deep inside, an answer echoed back—No.

Gretel was extremely busy.

In fact, if things had gone as originally planned, they wouldn’t have spent that much time together anyway.

It was only because sparks had flown the moment their eyes met that plans had changed.

And now that Hans had left, Gretel would inevitably grow even busier—trying to make up for the time she’d “wasted” indulging in sweet dreams with him.

She had even grumbled about it herself.

So now, Hans was effectively free from the surveillance of the doll in her service.

Even if he did something with a woman who wasn’t Gretel, in Gretel’s house.

She wouldn’t know.

“Ugh.”

A sharp pain pierced into his collarbone.

When Hans looked down, he saw Alje softly biting the skin there.

Before he could even protest and ask what she was doing, she pulled her lips away.

“Bleh.”

Then she stuck out her tongue and let a long string of saliva drip down.

Depending on one’s perspective, it could be seen as dirty, suggestive, or even sacred.

Because the girl’s saliva shimmered faintly with a soft glow.

It wouldn’t be easy to desecrate a [Miracle] in such a way.

The sacred saliva trailed down from Alje’s lips onto Hans’ skin.

Droplets of light spread over the overlapping bite marks, erasing the traces left on his body.

“All clean now.”

With an overly innocent smile, Alje giggled, hee, and for some reason, her expression filled Hans with fear.

It was a kind of fear he had never felt before.

Not fear of “the monster” Alje, but fear of “the girl” Alje.

But why?

If Alje were to remain a pure girl to the end, just as Hans wished, then what reason would she have to harm him?

“I was a little upset. Yeah, because you made me wait… and you met another woman. But it’s okay now.”

“R-Really?”

“Yup!”

Once again, a sharp pain bit into his collarbone.

More than the [mouth] of a monster, it was the bite strength of a child.

Rather than a lover’s caress, it was like a puppy playfully nibbling.

A girl ignorant of anything sexual wouldn’t know more than a kiss, so this was merely a refined imitation.

While gently biting his skin, the girl looked up at Hans and smiled.

Thump.

Why was his heart trembling at this moment?

‘Was it fear, or…’

“From now on, I’ll be chumm… with you, mister.”