Devote Yourself to the Witch! - Chapter 5

By the time I reached the border between the forest and the kingdom, the innocent elven Holy Son was attempting to reason with a band of robbers.

“Please don’t do this.” The beautiful elf’s voice was gentle, as if he were instructing a group of cubs. “If you’re struggling to survive, you may seek help from the church. You should not violate the kingdom’s laws.”

The disguised robbers exchanged looks. Four words might as well have been written across their faces:

*Is this man insane?*

Their leader brandished his broadsword and snarled:

“Enough nonsense! Who cares about the church’s measly relief payments? Aren’t elves filthy rich? Hand over everything valuable you’ve got!”

Pafimel shook his head. “Please forgive my refusal. These are enchanted artifacts intended for the human royal family’s war against the demons. Their worth cannot be measured in mere coin.”

Even I could hardly stand to listen any longer.

The Holy Son’s every word and gesture gave me visions of the Buddhist cultivators from the Temple of Great Liberation.

Terrifying. Master, please stop chanting.

Gripping a thick stack of talismans, I leapt out before the robbers could attack.

“Halt! Drop your weapons! In broad daylight, who dares commit such villainy?”

The robbers stared. “Who the hell are you?”

I plastered them from head to toe with immobilization talismans. Having never encountered the mysterious power of the East, they were caught completely off guard and frozen in place.

“I never conceal my name. I am Xie Changhuan, witch of the Joyous Union Sect. If you want revenge, come find me at my sect.”

If they could locate it.

With that, I seized Pafimel and flew away on my sword while the robbers remained helpless.

The robbers, shocked all over again: “?!”

The System shrieked in admiration:

[Submit! You know nothing of the witch’s power!]

Behind me, Pafimel widened his eyes at the unfamiliar “magic.”

“Is this how humans practice magic nowadays?”

“Of course not. Those mages are still devoted to brewing potions.” I deliberately tried to frighten him. “I’m different. Didn’t you hear me call myself a witch?”

The elven Holy Son had come to the human kingdom specifically to aid its war against demonic creatures.

By all rights, the word *witch* should have put him on guard.

Pafimel was not frightened in the slightest. Instead, he gently smoothed my wind-tangled black hair.

Fine flecks of light danced in the green eyes reflecting my image.

“You saved me. Whatever your identity, you are a friend I will gladly protect.”

“…Wow.”

One rescue, and this sweet, gullible fool had already offered me his heart. No wonder someone had deceived him so thoroughly.

Pafimel, the Holy Son of the elves, had completed his adulthood rite long ago. He was innocent by nature and especially fond of humankind.

As relations between humans and demons deteriorated year by year, he chose to bring the forest’s enchanted artifacts to the kingdom and help humanity resist the demons.

But before this naive Holy Son—who had never left the forest—could even enter the kingdom proper, he met robbers coveting his wealth.

In the original timeline, a man calling himself a Hero would save Pafimel.

The “Hero” invented a dull and utterly unremarkable tale about the human world, yet somehow managed to leave Pafimel spellbound.

Because the man had rescued him from the robbers, the gullible elf trusted him without reservation and answered every question he asked.

When the Hero said his party needed Pafimel in its fight against the Demon King, Pafimel abandoned his journey to the royal court and stayed to help.

When the Hero claimed he was destined to slay the Demon King, Pafimel gave him the forest’s enchanted artifacts.

The impostor tasted the rewards of his lies again and again.

Before long, pretending to be a Hero was no longer enough.

He began to crave genuine wealth, power, and glory.

The forest happened to possess all three.

And so the Hero coaxed the location of the forest’s core from Pafimel, along with the knowledge that elves feared fire.

In the end, Pafimel brought the swindler into the forest—and invited disaster in with him.

The Holy Son who had left home to help humanity watched his forest perish because a human deceived him.

Amid that endless conflagration, scorched earth tainted the Holy Son’s pure-white soul.

He cast aside his useless kindness, and the light elf fell into darkness.

His hatred of humankind transformed him into a terrifying and powerful monster.

Neither demon nor human could escape the twisted creature.

The world met its end at his hands.

When the vision of the original timeline ended, the System sniffled.

[None of those tragedies have happened yet, and Pafimel hasn’t met that horrible swindler. Kindness shouldn’t be betrayed. You must help him!]

I glanced back at Pafimel, who smiled at me.

If I wanted to change his ending…

I would have to teach him a lesson severe enough that he never dared trust another human so easily.