The Devil's Cursed Witch Novel

Chapter 8


Draven brought Erlos down the mountain and headed towards the village he found closest to the destroyed mountain. In a blink of an eye, they disappeared from where they were standing, able to travel the entire span of a mountain in a matter of several breaths.

After passing through a forest and a number of barren fields, the devil and the elf reached the village that Draven saw a while ago. Even though they were standing quite a distance from the border of the village, hidden away from human sight, they could hear the sound of music and merrymaking. It looked like there was some sort of festival and the humans were celebrating it. From behind the wooden fences, they found humans laughing, dancing, eating and drinking alcohol.

“Alas, no wonder we found not a single person out working in the fields. Turns out all of them are here, busy making themselves blind drunk,” Erlos commented while he observed the chaotic celebration from a distance. “What are these humans celebrating? From the looks of those passed out on the ground, it seemed like they have been drinking since the night before. Aren’t those villagers humans that are so poor they need to toll and labour every day in order to feed themselves? Could they really afford this kind of consumption? Strange humans—”

Erlos swallowed the rest of his words the moment he saw his master raise his hand, gesturing him to stop speaking. He had served Draven long enough to understand that his master’s sharp ears were at work.

“Finally, that thing has been killed! You don’t know how many nightmares I had the past few weeks, worrying over the crops that mysteriously died in my field.”

“Now our kingdom is free from that witch, nothing bad will ever happen to us again.”

“Hey, why are you still mentioning such an ominous thing?”

“Right, right! Do not bring up that taboo anymore. It’s bad luck. Come on, bring out more jars of liquor!”

“We must celebrate the fact that we have rid ourselves of a scourge that never lets us sleep in peace.”

“To a peaceful sleep tonight!”

“To a bountiful harvest in the future!”

“Cheers!”

Draven’s sharp ears heard their conversation clearly, yet he could not understand the entire thing. It sounded like this group of people successfully hunted a witch, thus they were celebrating it. It didn’t seem related to what he came for here in the first place.

A witch? Unless a witch is willing to let herself be killed, with their powers, regardless of which type of witch they are, there’s no way a bunch of weak humans could kill her.

But could that witch who they killed be related to the reason why he was summoned to that mountain, not that strange female creature in his palace?

That didn’t make sense. He felt like the key to his questions lay on that female creature. Could they be mistakenly referring to her as a witch?

“Go ask what happened to that mountain,” Draven instructed Erlos.

“Excuse me, sire. I think I misheard your order.”

Draven’s flat gaze fell on his body, and Erlos shivered in realization.

“You want me to approach those…those foul-smelling, disgusting humans?” Erlos asked with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He stiffly looked back at those drunk humans, who were either laughing out loud like crazy men or dancing like mad monkeys. “Sire, you want me to go there? There? To those mannerless creatures….” he mumbled, feeling displeased about it.

“I can throw you there if your legs are tired to walk,” he heard Draven saying.

Erlos trembled, knowing his master would do exactly what he said if he didn’t move now.

“I don’t wish to trouble you, sire.” The elf then made a dramatic bow. “I shall excuse my humble self from your royal presence.”

Erlos snapped his finger, and out of thin air, a common-looking brown cloak with a hood appeared and dropped onto his hand. He covered himself with it, making sure to keep his long ears hidden.

As a direct subordinate of the King of Agartha, Erlos’s attire was nothing short of luxurious. Although it wasn’t regal like Draven’s long tailcoat that had dragon scale patterns and gold accents, the outfit of the young elf was at par with the clothes human nobles wear, with a magical twist. In fact, the young elf’s clothes were similar to a squire but the materials used were things only an elf could gather. He wore a doublet made out of leather from a creature with no ordinary background, while his long-sleeved white dress shirt was made out of silk given by faeries.

Not to mention his trademark long ears, his silver hair, coupled with clothes that looked extraordinary despite their simple design, Erlos was sure he would become the centre of attention the moment he entered that village filled with poor people.

As Erlos wrapped himself in that brown cloak, he forced a smile on his lips with each step he took towards the village.

‘Human female if it is all because of you that I am here, once I return, I will make sure you will remember my great sacrifice, jumping in the middle of those disgusting humans, for your sake. I will seek a handsome reward for this, just you wait.’

The moment he stepped past the entrance of the village, he felt himself assaulted by the strong smell of liquor and sweat and other nasty smells that made him almost want to bolt out of the place. Erlos was a pureblooded elf, and elves are creatures of nature. Many creations and traditions of humankind were things they found innately disgusting.

‘I should just ask the nearest person to me so I can leave at once!’ he cried in his mind.

However, he underestimated how inhumanly attractive his face is.

Elves were an ancient race that represented everything beautiful in nature. Their appearance was peerless, their bodies generally tall and slender, and their eyes of various colours like gemstones, to the point they were claimed to be the fairest creatures to walk the land every time they were mentioned in folklore.

Even though the ordinary brown cloak covered his attire, it didn’t hide Erlos’s young face. The fact that he looked displeased didn’t even decrease his attractiveness. Not to mention, those who were near him could see tendrils of silver hair falling out from outside the hood, spilling like threads of real silver glistening under the sunlight.

Regardless if they were tipsy or drunk, the villagers all gawked, staring with gaping mouths the moment they laid their eyes on the divinely handsome Erlos.

The elf servant felt creeped out.


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