The pinnacle of pleasure is pain.
Having given this guiding principle, Lady Beatrice clearly didn't intend to explain further. Instead, with that alluring, enigmatic smile, she waited for the witches present—some bewildered, others seemingly enlightened—to recover from their contemplation. Then, she clapped her hands lightly and said,
"Alright, take your understanding of it and go put it into practice."
Immediately, she turned to Alice:
"Ms. Claire…you and this little 'witch' are both attending for the first time, why don't you choose each other as partners? You seem to have some interest in her, don't you?"
"I have no objection,"
Alice said, noticing from afar that the young witch's face changed drastically, looking as if she were being led to the guillotine.
Seeing her readily agree, Lady Beatrice chuckled softly, then turned and brought the pale-faced "witch" over.
"Go through this hall and you'll find several living rooms. You can choose an empty room to practice your understanding of that proverb... Have a good time in advance."
After politely thanking the overly gentle and friendly witch, Alice smiled and watched her walk towards Stephanie, who had been telling the story, before turning her gaze away and casually issuing the order,
"Let's go."
Taking a few steps towards the hall's exit, Alice suddenly turned back to look at the "witch" who was still standing still.
"Do I have to ask you to leave?"
Seeing that she remained silent, her lips tightly pressed together, but her attitude was not exactly cooperative as she began to move her feet, Alice showed slight impatience.
She silently summoned spider silk, which wrapped around that vulnerable neck when the witch was completely unaware, and then pulled the silk forward.
The witch, whose features were not particularly delicate on their own, but which combined to have a gentle and sweet appearance, suddenly staggered and almost fell forward, but fortunately managed to maintain her balance.
"If you don't want me to drag you around like a dog, you'd better behave yourself."
Alice was unmoved by the humiliation, resentment, and fear mingling in her eyes, even taking the time to observe the reactions of the other witches.
Unsurprisingly, they ignored her situation.
After this threat, the witch "assigned" to her finally agreed to cooperate, though her face paled even more.
Alice randomly chose an empty living room and went in first, walking around the fully furnished room.
She didn't find anything suspicious that had been tampered with.
But when she turned around, she was startled by the young girl's actions.
The girl had a complex expression of disgust mixed with shame, yet her hands were deftly removing her clothes.
In the brief half-minute that Alice turned to observe the room, she threw several petticoats on the floor. Her rather formal, pale white gown was also stretched loose, even revealing a small portion of her smooth, full breasts. Seeing
her gaze, the young "witch" merely bit her lip and remained silent, continuing to untie the layers of her belt.
...So be it, pleasure and pain, right?
Alice pondered for a few seconds, finally deciding to abandon further thought.
She approached the girl, who looked no more than eighteen or nineteen, until she was within five steps, confirming that the other's eyes were fixed on her.
She raised her hand, palm outward, fingers spread, and simultaneously uttered a chant woven from an ancient, foreign language:
"(False pain.)"
"(Phantom illusion.)"
—Yes, that will do.
It will allow the "witch" to experience the pain of the proverb, and through her imagination, she can construct a near-real phantom to do something to her... well, what she hopes will happen. Alice
cast an invisibility spell on herself and a silence spell to eliminate the noise of her footsteps and clothing rubbing together.
She then left the ambiguously decorated living room, shutting out the girl's cries of anguish behind the door. A witch has her ways, and she certainly had her methods.
The seed had been sown at the beginning; now was the time to reap the harvest.
Instead of leaving, Alice, now an invisible and silent shadow, stood quietly at the edge of the corridor outside the door, waiting for her opportunity.
About five minutes later, she saw the person she had anticipated.
Lady Beatrice, with long, slightly wavy black hair, a rich and alluring high-waisted red dress, and beautiful features, hurried along, her expression seemingly somewhat annoyed.
She stopped before the closed door, then pressed her finger to the keyhole under the doorknob, remaining motionless for a full five or six seconds before nodding slightly as if confirming something. She then took out a pocket watch-like object from her sleeve and carefully pushed the door open.
However, what gradually came into view was not the rose-red furniture and ornaments, but the person Mrs. Beatrice knew best, yet should least want to see
—she saw herself in the mirror.
Mirrors, countless mirrors, countless Mrs. Beatrices in magnificent gowns, making the same expressions and gestures, countless pairs of equally terrified eyes staring at her bewildered face.
"You suddenly realize you've made a mistake: you shouldn't have grouped those two new participants together, but should have had your apprentice, Stephanie, guide the new witch, while you personally dealt with the unknown Claire..."
As if oblivious to the eerie narration from the shadows of the corridor behind her, Mrs. Beatrice remained motionless, her hand holding the pocket watch resting on its cover; a slight push would open it, unleashing the extraordinary power residing within.
But she was as still as a corpse, the only difference being the faint rise and fall of her breath.
"But this isn't your fault. You made more than one mistake. From the very beginning, you shouldn't have gone alone to greet that strange visitor... Look, she's come to welcome you too."
As the narration became lighter, Mrs. Beatrice slowly turned her neck, like a puppet on a string, raising her lifeless eyes to look at the blurry black shadow that appeared behind her in the mirror.
It was a reflection with a woman's silhouette, her hair flying wildly like snakes, her eyes like empty, bottomless abysses, capable of dragging any intelligent soul into an endless struggle.
"She's come to welcome you, and you can make up for the many mistakes you made before—yes, you will be pulled into another nightmare symmetrical to reality..."
Captured by the countless long hairs of the black shadow that snaked out of the mirror, Mrs. Beatrice, like her countless reflections, drowned in the mirror.
The next instant, the whole scene spun, and Mrs. Beatrice fell as if she had crashed into the inside of the door.
Inside was the familiar rose-colored furniture set, but unlike reality, all the furnishings were arranged in a strange mirror symmetry, and Mrs. Beatrice herself seemed to have completely lost her soul, remaining motionless in her fallen position.
"In this dream, you resolve to make amends for your mistakes. You meet the one you trust most. You… will confess everything to the person who appears before you."
Only then did Alice's figure finally appear like ripples on water.
She walked towards the dazed Lady Beatrice, gently prying her head a few times with her closed folding fan, then casting several spells to detect oaths of secrecy, finally nodding in satisfaction.
"No oaths of secrecy on her, that makes things easier… Now, I'll ask, you answer—are you a member of the Witch Cult?"
Lady Beatrice, like a walking corpse, only instinctive reactions remaining, slowly nodded, giving an affirmative answer.
"What can you tell me about the high-ranking members of the Witch Cult?" Alice quickly asked again.
"I serve the Lady of Mourning, managing affairs in the Riseland region, as well as the affairs of this manor… As for the other high-ranking members of the cult, I have never had contact with them," Lady Beatrice replied.
The Lady of Mourning…
Alice silently repeated the name, feeling her terrible premonition about to come true again.
As expected, when she inquired about more information about the Mourning Lady and where to find this high-ranking member of the witch's cult, Lady Beatrice shook her head, indicating that she knew very little. In fact, every time they contacted each other, it was either the other party who initiated the meeting or a messenger who would inform her of the meeting place; there had never been an exception.
"I only know that the Mourning Lady's strength is at least Sequence 5, and very likely Sequence 4… She possesses the ability to infect people with diseases without them even realizing it," Lady Beatrice added finally.
Suppressing her disappointment, Alice changed her approach:
"Among the witches who gathered today, who has contact with high-ranking figures in other sects?"
Lady Beatrice initially shook her head blankly, then, as if remembering something, replied uncertainly:
"It's said that the new 'witch' Triss has met the Lady of Mourning, but it's just a rumor… I don't know the details, and I don't want to confirm. Triss's mental state isn't very stable; I think she could go mad and lose control at any moment. In fact, if it weren't for the Lady of Mourning's tacit approval and Sharon's insistence, I wouldn't have let this girl set foot in this manor."
Triss… it seems I'll have to interrogate someone else later. And who is Sharon? There wasn't anyone with that name among those witches.
Alice nodded silently in thought, then continued her questions:
"What's the purpose behind the disappearances in Dixi County?"
"Why would the witch cult kidnap people born with a life number of 6?"
"How much do you know about spells for summoning otherworldly beings?"
Faced with these questions, Lady Beatrice perfectly exemplified what it meant to know nothing.
Alice sighed, knowing she wasn't likely to be lucky enough to find an important clue on her first try, so she abandoned any wishful thinking and casually asked about things that concerned her.
"...Then, tell me the purpose behind this banquet,"
Lady Beatrice replied numbly.
"To help witches in the 'pleasure' phase stabilize their potion state. If conditions permit, we will also provide opportunities for advancement."
Stabilize their state, provide advancement... Could this really be some kind of charity?
Even Alice, lacking common sense about extraordinary worlds, knew that such a reason was far too unusual, but Lady Beatrice was currently under the control of her innate magic and multiple illusions, making it impossible for her to lie.
In other words, she genuinely believed it.
Therefore, the key to everything lay in her "opportunity for advancement."
"What are the conditions for the advancement to 'Joy'?"
Alice asked.
"First, of course, is complete mastery of the potion. Then, prepare the ingredients mentioned in the recipe, concoct the potion, and finally…"
"What is the final step?" Alice asked patiently, in a persuasive tone.
Lady Beatrice, who had stopped speaking for some unknown reason, finally gave a somewhat difficult answer.
"Finally, in the agony of the death of a loved one, take the potion to complete the advancement and transformation…"
"…It has to be this kind of pain? The death of a loved one?"
Alice was stunned for a moment.
"The Mourning Lady says that the deeper the love, the more profound the influence of the person on us, the more the grief at the time of death can help us resist madness. Otherwise, we will only be overwhelmed by the pain in the potion, twisted into mindless monsters…"
Lady Beatrice answered very slowly, almost word by word, but every word was exceptionally clear, leaving no possibility of mishearing.
"Then, Miranda and Saffron…" Alice almost immediately thought of the two witches who were always nestled together.
Before she could say anything more, Lady Beatrice continued in a hollow voice.
"The twisted love between Miranda and Saffir stems from the side effects of some extraordinary item. The Mourning Lady ordered me to take this item from them, but without attracting attention… Furthermore, whichever of them successfully fulfills the ritual requirements, the other must also be dealt with. So I plan to inform them separately, in private, of the ritual requirements for the advancement to 'Pleasure,' so that…" This way
, the lovers whose feelings were once formed by external forces will become suspicious of each other, and may even descend into fratricide.
Alice vaguely sensed the problem.
"…Is Triss also a member who needs to be 'dealt with'? Stephanie too?"
Under the influence of the spell, Lady Beatrice, speaking without reservation, gave a very honest answer.
"If Triss shows signs of losing control, then she must be dealt with… Stephanie, she seems to have fallen in love with the target's youngest son and wants to break free from the cult's control, marry an ordinary person, and have children… I need to observe her situation. If she decides to betray us, then I will have no choice but to take appropriate action."
So, this is the truth behind this gathering?
Although she knew it was a trivial matter unrelated to her own purpose, Alice couldn't suppress her curiosity and asked a few more questions. She learned that similar actions had been taken many times in the year or so that Lady Beatrice had been holding this regular gathering.
As for the uninvited guest "Claire" who had barged into this gathering, Lady Beatrice admitted that she couldn't make the decision and would pass this information to the Mourning Lady for her to decide.
But as for when that high-ranking lady would contact her, Lady Beatrice couldn't guarantee.
"Irregular contact inevitably leads to information delays… It seems that this 'processing workshop' isn't considered very important by the higher-ups, or perhaps they have other surveillance agents stationed there."
Considering that Lady Beatrice was even a member of the cult who had mastered the fifth-order witch advancement ritual, the latter possibility was more likely.
In this way, Alice would inevitably come into the sights of that high-ranking lady sooner or later.
But that was exactly the effect she wanted.
"Claire" is her false identity, and "Alice" is not her real name either. Anti-divination and anti-prophecy are her forte; even if the world possesses the great power to rewind time, it's impossible to find any trace of her.
The theory of "every action leaves a trace" doesn't apply to Alice.
Once these anomalies are discovered, the high-ranking member of the cult, the mourning lady, will inevitably have no choice but to contact Lady Beatrice, who had met "Claire" in person.
This will provide her with an opportunity to find the other party in reverse.
The control implanted in Lady Beatrice needs to be maintained as much as possible; she doesn't know if it can last until the mourning lady initiates contact…Alice nodded, estimating the time should be about right, and then, after organizing her thoughts, prepared to ask her final question.
Just as she was about to speak, a familiar voice suddenly resonated deep within her mind, carrying a clear sense of tension and urgency.
"Hey! Alice, are you there? You're there, right? You can hear me, right? Are you done on your end? Anyway, whether you're done or not, you have to listen to me. Something's happened here… something's wrong here! Quick, quick, help me think of a solution! It would be best if you could come and save me… no, that's not right, I have my dignity, 'save' isn't quite the right word… Holy crap, I can feel the danger word appearing above my head…"
…Holy crap?
Alice was a little confused and couldn't respond in time. It wasn't until a lot of chaotic thoughts came through on the other end that she activated the telepathic communication and relayed her reply:
"I probably need another five minutes to finish up here. Can you hold on?… Have you used up all those potions?"
"Five minutes! I don't think five minutes… no, it's not about the potions, it's more like I can't find a chance to use them. Five minutes… I'll try, try to hold on, but it's hard to say…"
"What exactly happened? You've been dragged into some murder scene, and you're being treated as a suspect?"
Because of the telepathic connection, Alice knew her thoughts would be captured by the spell, so she instinctively threw out the question she'd prepared beforehand—
what were the general circumstances of witches who were originally women?
"No, why are you thinking of a murder case? Even if I'm prone to accidents, I wouldn't be like that… Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, this woman is so proactive it's terrifying… Could she be a witch? No, no, I'm getting paranoid right now, I can't always think the worst…"
Unlike the honest voice deep within her mind, when Lady Beatrice heard Alice's last question, a painful struggle appeared on her face, a hint of wanting to break free from the control of the suggestion.
Alice was no stranger to similar reactions.
This was a special reaction that only occurred when the other person's deepest secrets were touched.
Previous Chapter