His Breeding Obsession

Mirania seized the moment and walked into the woods, performing her nature assimilation trick on and off.

 

It was still an odd sight to see the giant tree swaying with the movement of the hiding place, but Mirania was so focused that she didn’t even realize how effeminate she looked.

 “Wahhh.” 

She pushed past the wolfman’s jaw-dropping yawn and continued deeper into the forest.

 

Once she was far enough in, she saw a familiar sight.

 

Everything she remembered was familiar, from the tenderly spoken and favored privet tree to the welcoming acorn tree that invited her to pick acorns from its branches after a long absence.

 {Mirania! Mirania! Mirania!} {Are you back now? We were so worried when you didn’t come back!} {Did you know that Bibi cried every day because she missed you, Mirania?} “How is Bibi?” {Bibi died, which is sad, but her cubs had another litter, and they’re called Little Bibi now.} {You must be the one I heard about from Alice, I’ve heard a lot. I’m only a fifty-year-old baby tree, but you’ll be seeing me around a lot!} 

The trees spoke in unison, not waiting for their turn, and Mirania was dazed, but she understood what they were saying.

 

‘Bibi is dead.’

 

 

Mirania’s heart was saddened by the death of Bibi, whom she had raised with her own hands before giving Grecan and Leverianz away, but death was natural, so she shook off her grief with only a hint of bitterness.

 

‘I see you’ve made it to the Witch Forest safely, judging by the mention of Alice’s name.’

 

The spirit of the forest was more energetic here than elsewhere.

 

The presence of the High Witch and Alice explained the vibrancy of the forest, and Mirania felt a sense of relief in the midst of her turmoil.

 

Her body, exhausted from the dark realm, began to revitalize from the forest’s refreshing energy.

 

After walking for some time, the witch castle began to draw closer, close enough to see with the naked eye.

 

Just as she was about to speed up her pace.

 “Who are you!” 

A shrill voice stopped Mirania in her tracks.

 

Mirania stood tall and turned toward the source.

 

A scantily clad woman stood there, her eyes glowing menacingly, a bow pointed at her.

‘There were warriors on guard this far?’

 

Puzzled, Mirania scrutinized the woman and formed a question in her mind.

 

‘That looks like… one from my clan.’

 

She couldn’t be sure, as she didn’t recognize the face. The woman stepped closer and closer to Mirania, her gaze fierce and wary.

 

The woman’s gaze was intense enough that Mirania knew if she made the slightest movement, an arrow would pierce one of her limbs.

 

She wasn’t the only one. One by one, others began to appear around Mirania, each with their weapons aimed at her.

 

Some of them were poised to use their tassels as if to manifest a curse.

 

The sight convinced Mirania.

 

‘It’s the witches.’ 

 

What happened to their usual vigilance?

 

‘They’re tied to the wolf clan that’s forming a siege network in the distance.’

 

With the confirmation that it was the witches, Mirania relaxed somewhat and observed the faces of the people.

 

Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but some were recognizable, and there were even bats with black, flapping wings.

 

‘…This is unexpected. What a surprise.’

 

The witches, bats, and wolves were the most powerful clan groups on the continent, and had been in a three-way war.

 

They were incompatible, but now they seem to be living together.

 

Mirania couldn’t hide her surprise as she looked at the clothing worn by the witches and bats.

 

It was an eerily similar outfit, with some differences, as if made by the same person.

 “Identify yourself. You don’t look like wolves from the way you’re dressed. Did Grecan send you?” 

Mirania shook her head, unfamiliar with the childish calls of the enemy, having only heard High Lord and Lord as honorifics on the Second Continent.

 “Then why did you come this far? The excuse that you didn’t realize this was witch territory doesn’t work.” “…” “If Grecan sent you, go back and tell him. We do not open our territory. I don’t know why the greedy man wants to come here, but if he wants his way, he’ll have to deal with all of us!” 

The woman growled fiercely, pointing the sharp tip of her spear at Mirania.

 

Mirania stood still, unsure of what to say in response.

 

‘Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t know what’s going on here. And even if I were to reveal myself to be a High Witch from a previous generation, nobody would be in a position to believe me.’

 

It was then.

 “Wait, hey, hold up your head. This way.” 

A shaky voice called out.

 

Mirania turned her head toward the source. Her eyes locked with a woman’s blue eyes.

 

The woman’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, then widened.

 

Then they shook. The tremor spread to her entire body.

 Shudder— 

The bow dropped and her body collapsed. The woman beside her cried out, wary of Mirania.

 “Sister Tessa, what’s wrong?” 

The witch who called herself Tessa didn’t answer her companion’s call, only burst into tears.

 “Hey! What did you do?” 

The younger witch seemed to think Mirania had pulled some kind of trick.

 

Mirania was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, both elated and trembling, as the intense energy surged through her.

 

‘It’s good to see you’ve grown stronger… but I don’t know if I should be pleased or not, since I’m the one you’re trying to attack.’

 

Tessa’s puzzlement was soon echoed by others.

 

Upon closer inspection, they were young witches whose faces Mirania had recognized a few times in the past, and three or four bats.

 

The once vibrant forest had become cluttered.

 

Mirania stretched her back as she received disbelieving stares.

 

Her shoulders relaxed as she felt a sense of familiarity after being treated as a weakling by both Grecan and Malandor since her powers had faded.

 

Mirania, her dignity restored after so long, looked around and said.

 “Has it been a hundred years?” “…” “It seems like we’ve all been through a lot.” 

Mirania’s chilly, yet piercingly unique tone caused their eyes to shake, and they burst into tears.

 “Mirania!” 

The first woman to collapse jumped up, feverishly.

 

Mirania gently stroked the head of the clan member in her arms.

 

She was not a woman of many emotions, but her fingers trembled slightly with the excitement of seeing the clan she had pushed to the back of her priorities to change their fate.

 

‘I was supposed to be greeted by these children as I passed into eternity,’

she thought to herself.

 

But somehow, through a twist of fate, we met in this way.

 

Seeing them again, Mirania’s heart was filled with a sense of satisfaction.

 “What? Who, Mirania?” “The former High Witch…? No way, she can’t be here…” 

Eyes widened like rabbits as those who had been wary of Mirania until the last moment recognized her name if not her face.

 

The witches who had already recognized her were all in tears.

 Tuck— Thud! 

One by one, weapons began to fall limply from their hands.

 

It was said that crying was as contagious as laughter, and soon the place was a sea of tears.

 

A hundred years had passed, and when she saw her again, Chera was much older.

 

She had lived longer than most humans, but not nearly as long as the other long-lived beasts.

 

Chera had lived long enough that Mirania wasn’t surprised by the lines on her face, but she was disturbed by them.

 

It was a kind of guilt that her closest clan mate had grown this old, and she hadn’t even been around to see it.

 “It’s so much fun to see each other grow old, and it’s a shame that you and I don’t get to do that, it’s a pity.” 

As Mirania spoke with such sincerity, Chera, whose eyes were puffy from tears, bluntly replied.

 “You say that with a face that hasn’t changed at all.” 

Still the same fiery personality, apparently.

 

The black and blue fur that protruded from behind Chera’s shoulders watched Mirania curiously.

 

The number of familiars who stayed with her seemed to have skyrocketed, as did her breeding skills.

 “Well, she should have already died and returned to nature.” “…Do you really have to say that in this situation?” “Did you say something unkind?” 

Chera, who had cried so hard when she realized Mirania was alive, shook her head in disbelief.

 “Never mind, I feel like I’ve suddenly been transported back 100 years.” “You don’t look too happy, do you?” “It’s good. I haven’t laughed out loud in a while, so that’s a good thing.” 

Chera spoke casually, and Mirania’s shoulders sagged, feeling as if she had done something wrong.

 

She’d speculated that Grecan was part of the reason the witches were shrinking. It was more fact than speculation.

 “What is the High Witch like?” 

Mirania glanced at the empty chalice. It was where the last Great Witch had sat and drank her tea.

 

She wondered what had become of the Great Witch now that she was alive, but it was said that the Great Witch was born from the Witch Tree as planned.