I'm on Maintenance Duty

Arc 1.7 - The Witch

Popi thought that he should've just let the protagonist die there. After all, one of the rules for the mission was to treat the protagonist like shit. Maybe he could choose which one would receive the "special" treatment.

He shook his aching shoulder and frowned. He felt that carrying the protagonist like a sack wasn't very convenient. After enduring the aching feeling for a bit more, he decided to just princess-carry the protagonist.

As Popi walked, the air around them slowly started to get colder. Faint mist obscured his vision little by little. The temperature got so cold to the point that frost started to form on the rubble.

Parchie and Popi both noticed the abnormality. Popi could feel the biting cold but he didn't feel anything else.

Are the ghosts rising from the dead? What's with the air?

He immediately felt unwell. The dark magic didn't have an effect on him but his body's instinct was warning him about something. He cautiously examined the entire area. They were in the outer part of the city; the slums. It was once heavily populated but now it was filled with the horrible stench of death.

There wasn't a single soul remaining in the ruined city. He even told Parchie to tell him if it sensed another breath in case he mistook another living person for a corpse. Maybe he should've told Parchie to sense ghosts too.

"Quick, hide."

Popi started sweating bullets. The wreckage around him was not very useful during this kind of situation. He looked around and found a barely intact wall. It looked like it would crumble under slight pressure but it was the only structure that could hide him and the protagonist. He dove behind it for cover.

As soon as he crouched down, a nasty smell hit his nose. The corpses' rotting smell was amplified by dark magic and it didn't help that they were in the slums.

The mist thickened and it soon began to snow. However, the snow was rising from the ground. Snow rose from the ruins and the corpses, painting the frosty surroundings with a tinge of dark red.

In the distance, a black silhouette hovered in the air. The exposed pale skin had strange cracks spread out like spiderwebs. 

The gravity-defying snow avoided the person frantically. The mist parted and opened a path, revealing a broken street littered with blood and flesh. Still, she didn't mind getting her feet dirty.

The witch landed lightly on a dried corpse. She closed her eyes and hummed a tune as she walked on the path leisurely. Dark magic seeped out from the cracks on her hands and twisted violently in the air. After a while, the magic calmed down and shot off somewhere.

...

Warm rays of sunlight escaped through the gaps of the closed curtains. It illuminated a dark room and brought warmth to the young man on the bed. However, the young man was not pleased with the annoying heat. He covered his head with a pillow and stubbornly refused to get up.

"Young Master! It's 9 in the morning!" The door to the bedroom was knocked frantically. The person on the other side was determined to never stop unless the master got up himself.

Even though he just got a whole night's worth of good sleep, the young man felt exhausted. If waking up was already this exhausting, the following hours would be worse! He knew the kind of trick that the servant was pulling on him. He'll see who will give up first!

"Young Master! Young Master! YOUNG MASTER!!!" The servant's shouts were getting increasingly louder.

"Alright! Fine!" He yelled back. He threw down the pillow. Why was it that he was always the one who gave up first? He walked to the door and yanked it open.