Truthfully, there was no reason for Dailah to accept Daniela's request. In fact, she was initially going to refuse it.

This was a "personal favor" rather than an assignment for the job. The witch mentioned no rewards of any kind but that wasn't important either, Dailah would hold all the cards if she did go through with it after all. There would be plenty of room to negotiate, assuming she did want something from her superior.

She didn't.

Still, the girl found herself considering the request regardless. Why one may ask? To put it simply, she was curious.

Why was Daniela interested in this hermit? Why did she ask Dailah for help specifically?

In the end, she decided to consult with Scariot who should've still been in her house. Daniela asked not to speak of this with anyone if she were to ignore the request, but talking about it with her partner should be fine considering she allowed her to be a companion in the task.

"This seems fishy Dailah."

Naturally, she was skeptical.

"...do you have any idea why she'd ask this of me?"

Among witches, there was an implicit hierarchical relationship between higher and lower-ranked witches, an expected outcome born out of the difference in power. However, such relationships did not exist in Stone City, aside from more subtle unconscious and cultural biases at least.

No matter how much more powerful Daniela was, she couldn't freely order Dailah to do her bidding in this city. Both of them knew that, meaning this was a genuine solicitation from her.

Scariot frowned in thought, raising one of her eyebrows.

"Maybe she's testing you?"

"Testing for what?

"I don't know..." - Scariot scratched her head. - "That woman did involve you, us, in that last ordeal even though that wasn't exactly our department."

Scariot shrugged.

"Perhaps she's gauging if you're someone she can trust? Or as i mentioned before, she could be more interested in your relationship with Mariane.

"Well, it's a good chance to have that crone own you a favor either way."

"Hmm..."

There probably wasn't much meaning in second-guessing Daniela's intention. In the end, the most important thing was...

"Do you think this is something dangerous?"

She shook her head.

"I wouldn't know. At least i don't think she'd intentionally throw you in harm's way in such a manner, she even went out of her way to tell you it involves a powerful witch. If Daniela wanted to trick you, she'd have kept that much to herself. However...

"Something outside of her expectations can still occur. Just like last time."

Indeed, it only happened once but Dailah couldn't help but begin feeling Daniela's name was synonymous with distress.

...or maybe she herself was the one born into trouble.

"I... i'll accept her request."

"Yes, i had a feeling you would. And i must admit, my interest was piqued too."

"Can i take that as confirmation of your presence?"

"Sure. Besides..."

The woman got up from her chair, did a light stretch and reached towards her gun belt, hanging by the wall.

"If something were to happen to you under my watch" - Scariot turned towards Dailah as she armed herself - "Mariane would certainly feed me to the slimes."

XXX

The cleaning of the sewers was still ongoing, there were far too many dead rats left behind by the previous chaos. As such, the area was still blocked off and the three of them, Dailah, Scariot and Mr. Crowley, couldn't get to the exact place Daniela sent them to, forcing them on a little detour.

Dailah was reluctant to bring the bird along inside the forest, but she wanted to keep their avenues for retreat open. The crowley didn't refuse to come along either so it should be fine.

Or rather, if he had refused to enter the forest she would've called off the entire thing. These creatures were good at detecting danger after all.

Inside the woods, they were walking towards the area that should've been behind the sewer entrances. They didn't have a precise location but they decided to start looking around from there.

That was the plan at least.

"...these owls."

Scariot murmured, looking at the round white birds perched in the trees, pseudo-horns standing erect imposingly above their eyes. They haunted them during the previous operation and now they were back at their antics.

"Mr. Crowley doesn't seem too nervous despite staring at them... let's keep looking."

Yes, she was using him as a way to measure danger.

It was still the middle of the day so the forest wasn't overly dark, though the high tree-tops did block the sun to a degree.

It's the yellow girl.

"!?!?"

Dailah was startled by the sudden voice. She desperately looked around for the source.

"Did you hear that....?" - She whispered to Scariot who also seemed tense.

"...i did."

Who is this other woman?

Weren't just the girl and the raven supposed to come?

You can't trust these succurbi after all.

Both witches looked around for the source of the voices, which seemed to resonate inside their heads. Eventually, their gaze settled on the branches above. At the owls.

"Are these birds speaking...? Is such a thing normal in the city Scariot?"

Cold sweat trailed down the mid-rank witch's forehead. She heard about a few witches that could communicate with animals, but never the opposite.

Mother asks us to guide you.

What a big heart she has.

Be thankful, curs.

One of the owls jumps down from the branches in front of the two, making them stand on guard. The bird open its wings menacingly, before turning around and trotting in one specific direction.

Dailah and Scariot look at each other. Nodding their head in agreement, they promptly follow the owl.

As they walk in silence, Scariot murmurs towards her partner.

"I can feel some magic in the air, it's faint but it's there."

Dailah turns to look at her. She herself couldn't feel anything, probably due to her lower rank.

"Some type of barrier? An illusion perhaps?"

"It's too weak to be one of those... unless the one casting is either extremely efficient with mana usage, or very good at hiding her traces. I don't like the implications of either option."

Despite saying this, she showed no signs of wanting to turn back. They already crossed the rubicon some time ago after all.

Interestingly enough, Mr. Crowley still didn't seem restless despite the situation.

The thicket gradually opened up. Soon the two women and the crowley stood before what looked like a simple hut. A woman in a light white dress crouched by the garden of the house, seemingly tending to the plants.

The owl that guided them flew towards that person, perching at her shoulder. Dailah and Scariot approached, slow and careful.

"Welcome, you three."

The woman stood up and turned around to meet them face-to-face.

Her clothes were worn and creased, but strangely they did not look bad on her small frame, which exuded an alluring beauty and youthfulness. Silver, slightly disheveled hair covered her head almost all the way to her shoulders. She wore a thin smile on her face that almost looked seductive.

And two horns sprouted out of her head, both adorned with owl feathers.

Succubi. That was the first word that came to Dailah's mind.

Curse you, Daniela. What manner of evil den did she throw them into?

She observed the two with golden eyes that almost seemed to shine, then directed them towards the crowley behind.

"Incredible." - The woman said, walking towards the giant bird - "I never thought i'd see a raven doing a pact with a human again."

"Pact...?" - Dailah murmured unconsciously.

"Yes, a pact. A unique aspect of these marvelous creatures. They'll pick a soulmate, regardless of species, and spend the rest of their lives with them."

She stood right in front of Mr. Crowley. He gazed in her direction with mild interest, the bird didn't seem to consider her presence a threat.

Scariot was the next to speak.

"Are you telling me those bastards have any concept of loyalty? I've seen crowleys abandon their masters as little as-"

"I know the slander you and your cousins spread about ravens" - The weird woman interrupted her. - "Your kind simply does not understand their hearts. Ravens are very perceptive of the hearts of others, humans, magical creatures, beasts... they may be loyal, but they choose their loyalty carefully."

She turned back to look at the two, her bright yellow eyes almost looked as if they could pierce through their skins and peer directly into their souls.

"A quality humans would do very well to learn themselves, i must say. I've met plenty of both discerning and loyal individuals, but rarely the two together."

Dailah could more or less understand what the woman was talking about, but it still felt strange to hear that was the true nature of crowleys. Or rather, she has no memory of ever making that kind of profound pact with Mr. Crowley. She gave him food and he gave her transport, which about summed up their current relationship. He did save her life once, but that could just be treated as a whim on his part.

As if she knew exactly what Dailah was thinking.

"There's no big ritual or complicated process behind the pact of a raven. They just choose their partner and that is it."

"...what if i didn't want him around?"

"Then he wouldn't have chosen you in the first place. I told you, didn't i? They're very sensitive to other's intentions. They're even capable of seeing through someone like me."

Someone like her...

"And what exactly is someone like you?" - It was Scariot who asked that.

The silvery woman widened her eyes slightly, putting a hand over her mouth as if she had realized something important.

"Oh my! Where are my manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves properly. Please come inside, i made some tea."

Dailah had a slight suspicion this was her way of avoiding the question. She walked past the two, towards the hut. As she did the girl couldn't help but notice that, despite the woman's petite frame, she herself was still shorter than her...

With an inexplicable sense of defeat, she went after her, Scariot following right behind.

The inside of the hut was rather simple. There were many herbs and flowers decorating the house, as well as all types of tools and contraptions placed at random places. The place was rich in character, it truly felt like it was arranged for and by a single person in particular.

"Please sit by the table as i serve the tea."

There was only one small, round, wooden table. There were two stools close by, and with the two witches picking one each they couldn't help but wonder if the woman would just stand while speaking to them.

A tray containing three cups of completely different shapes and designs was placed on the table. Then, snapping her fingers, roots grew out of the floor of the house.

Sitting on the roots, she picked one of the cups and brought it to her lips.

"Ah, sorry. Should i have served it in front of you? I heard that was the proper manner once but it was so long ago...."

"No, it's fine." - Dailah said as she picked up another cup randomly. By the smell it was probably mate.

"Introductions, introductions... my name is, well, you can call me Ishmael. From, uh, here. Whatever you call these woods.

"You must be Dailah, correct?"

"Yes, Dailah from the Nineteenth."

Dailah gathered her courage and took a sip from the cup. This woman was clearly very powerful and there would be no reason for her to resort to contrived methods like poison when she could just strangle the two here and now. The tea was way too sweet.

On the other hand, Scariot had crossed her arms and manifested no intention to even pick up the cup.

"I see, it's what you call villages around here. And your friend here is..."

"Scariot." - Her partner murmured curtly.

As she did, the woman's, Ishmael eyes went round.

"Iscariot? Is that truly your name? What kind of parent would name her child that?"

The "child" in question narrowed her eyes at the comment.

"...are you trying to insult me?"

Probably realizing she sounded rude, Ishmael promptly apologized.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry, i didn't mean to sound insolent. I was just surprised." - The woman said, making a strange gesture with her free hand in front of her face as if she was about to give a knife-hand strike. - "It's a name that used to carry quite bad connotations you see... but names are just names i suppose. Whatever meaning they carry is purely self-inflicted in the end."

Relaxing again, Ishmael took a sip of her tea, murmuring something about not having put enough honey. Dailah opened her mouth.

"So, Ms. Ishmael. What exactly are you doing here?"

She tilted her head at the question.

"Living? This is just my dwelling."

"But, why here?"

She looked at Dailah as if she was genuinely confused by the question.

"I just like it here, i suppose? I've moved my home a few times but i always stayed in this forest."

"How long exactly?"

Ishmael put a finger over her mouth as she contemplated. After a while, she shrugged.

"No idea, it's been so long already. Well, the last time i moved my house was when the city began approaching the place where i was at before. Not too far from here."

Scariot narrowed her eyes and whispered to Dailah as she heard that piece of information.

"That makes it at least two decades. It's when they built the sewers."

A bit surprising, but they were dealing with a witch after all. If the person in front of them witnessed the foundation of Stone City, they wouldn't doubt it. In fact, if Dailah is not mistaken, Mariane herself should have been born during its beginnings.

Ishmael gave them a meaningful smile.

"Now, mind if i ask a question now?"

Dailah nodded.

"How many men are still out there?"

This was a completely unexpected question for either one of them. The girl looked towards her partner, hoping she'd have a proper answer. Thankfully, it seems she had.

"W-Well, i don't know the exact number, but right now we should have a man for every six women or so... at least in Stone City. Numbers are much lower in the countryside and could be different in other places....

Putting it like this, it did make the prospects of finding a stable partner for herself very grim. Unit or not.

"I see..." - Ishmael had a pensive look on her face. - "Seems it's still decreasing."

"Wait, are the number of men going down?" - Scariot asked with a slightly loud voice.

"It used to be one to four in a distance past... but local numbers like this tend to be unreliable, i could be wrong."

It was still fairly worrying. Forget finding a partner, the population itself was at stake here. Coming from the countryside, she knew how much of a problem keeping villages with a reasonable number of people was.

"Well, humans were able to devise ways to reproduce without relying on sex before, so you should be ok as long as the number doesn't get too close to zero. Still, a shame."

The way she had been speaking since earlier... it's not as if she was only referring to second-hand knowledge.

Dailah had to ask.

"...how old are you exactly? No, what is the oldest memory you can think of?"

She demonstrated earlier she did not count her years for that was how long she led this type of life. The girl had no choice but to rephrase the question in such a way.

The woman pouted like a kid.

"Asking the age of a lady is really rude you know..."

Huh? What is she on about? Many witches liked to flaunt their years. Some even threw celebrations for those who crossed the hundredth-year mark.

What is this feeling of disconnect?

"But, my oldest memory, was it? That's quite a difficult thing to ask." - She closed her eyes, deep in thought.

Dailah glanced at Scariot. Like her, she was also making an uncomfortable expression.

Immersed in her memories, she finally seemed to settle in something as she lifted her eyelids again.

"My oldest memory. I was but a child then, but i remember it vividly."

She smiled faintly, but unlike her previous ones, it didn't reach her eyes.

"The Slayer."