His Breeding Obsession

Amid the instantly vivacious crowd, the middle-aged man calmly opened his mouth.

 “Who are you, and which clan do you belong to?” 

Donnie hastily interrupted the harsh atmosphere.

 “Hey, she might be human.” 

He added with a wink.

 “She said she was from the imperial palace.” “The imperial palace!” 

Someone exclaimed in a surprised tone. The middle-aged man’s expression changed and he swallowed hard.

 

The ripple effect of Donnie’s words had been profound.

 “It can’t be, if the imperial palace had a human slave like that, the information would have come down long ago.” 

Someone pointed a knife at him. It was a woman’s voice.

 “Could it be that the imperial palace has noticed this place and is playing a trick on us?” “If they did, they wouldn’t have bothered sending anyone.” “Couldn’t they be trying to get information? You said they’ve been scouring the northwest for your location.” “It’s not like them to send men.” 

He whispered, low and fast.

 “The rendezvous is soon. We can ask them then.” “But that’s a month away. What about this one now?” “Tie her up.” 

Surprised gazes tangled.

 “Professor, she’s dangerous, it’s better to kill her…” “…If she’s useful to us, we might use her. It’s a first, isn’t it? Just tie her up tightly.” 

A tall man stepped out of the darkness.

 

A large scar ran across his brow. He snarled as he sheathed his greatsword at his waist.

 “Don’t you dare?” 

Mirania remained still as he untied the crude copper cord around his waist and bound her wrists.

 “If there are any communications or magical tools, collect them.” 

The middle-aged man watching ordered.

 

A woman with a husky voice stepped forward. She was slender and voluptuous, with unusual twin swords strapped to her waist.

 

Mirania allowed the woman’s hands to touch her body.

 

‘You’re used to handling prisoners.’

 

The pat-down was quick. She wore nothing but a thin dress. She wore no other jewelry.

 

The woman fiddled with the dress, then said in a slightly surprised tone.

 “There’s not much else, but this fabric, it’s hard to find here.” “What do you mean?” 

The woman turned to the middle-aged man.

 “It’s made of thread spun by the spider people, the finest.” 

The spiders are a race of people with delicate hands, but their ability to spin thread was their most special skill.

 

Their threads are strong and lustrous, and have long been favored by clan heads and high-ranking nobles for their robes. It was also expensive.

 “There’s only one place that uses such cloth, and that’s in the current situation. You’re not lying when you say it’s from the imperial palace.” 

The woman nodded slightly and stepped back.

 “I don’t have any other magic tools.” “Bring them in. Derek, you two, I want you to search the area once more.” “Yes sir!” 

With the woman close behind her and the other two on either side of her, Mirania stepped into the ramshackle mansion.

 

It was dark inside, draped in black cloth, but the candles lit here and there made things discernible.

 

The first floor seemed to have three rooms, and was larger than Donaty’s house.

 

Inside were several desks, and the humans seated around them looked at her warily at her sudden appearance.

 

Shabby, unremarkable clothes. Nothing particularly noteworthy.

 

‘A lot of young humans.’ 

 

The woman pushed Mirania to a seat in the far corner of the table.

 

It smelled faintly of boiled beans, as if it hadn’t been long since the last meal.

 

In the corner was a wooden cage barely big enough for a grown man to lie down with his legs stretched out.

 

It was barely tall enough to reach a grown man’s chest.

 

In a cage that looked like it was meant to hold animals, not people, there were clumps of fur all over the floor.

 

Roots. The woman who opened the entrance to the old wooden cage patted Mirania on the back.

 “Come inside.” 

Mirania frowned slightly, her nose already tickling.

 

She sat down, uncomfortable with the hunched position, and the woman who had locked the door turned back to them.

 “Never mind, go about your business.” 

The middle-aged man’s words quieted the chatter.

 

The people, initially curious and frightened by Mirania’s presence, soon returned to their work.

 

Orderly, if somewhat disorganized.

 “If you hold the sword like that, you’ll get a cramp in your hand before you’ve made a few swings.” “Write the numbers and letters I asked you to memorize yesterday. Let’s see how many you’ve memorized today.” 

‘I see, now I get it.’

 

This was school.

 “Donnie, what’s wrong?” “Oh, nothing, Miss Wigenia, did you happen to have the book I asked for the other day…” “I was going to tell you anyway. There are only a few books on magic left in the library, and they can’t lend them out for long.” “Oh…” “I’m sorry.” “Why did you say that?” “But he said someone might come in today, so if you wait, you might be able to see the books.” 

Listening to the casual conversation, Mirania looked away as a middle-aged man approached.

 

The middle-aged man pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her, clasping his hands together.

 

His eyes were sharp, but Mirania was calm.

 

She even looks relaxed, as if she’s at home.

 

The man’s brow wrinkled slightly.

 “I’m going to start asking you questions, or rather, interrogations. Don’t expect to be treated like a prisoner. The security and safety of this place are prioritized above all else. If you show any signs of suspicion, your life is not guaranteed.” 

A clear threat. Mirania leaned her back against the wall and glared at the middle-aged man.

 “They call you Professor. What does that mean?” “Only I have questions.” 

‘I’m the one who asks the questions.’

 

Mirania replied lazily,

“How about this: you ask a question, I ask a question. It’s the law of equal exchange.” 

The man smirked,

“You think you’re qualified to make an offer?” “Do you think I’ll never get out of here?” 

The odd golden eyes scanned the crude cage.

 “With something as crude as this?” 

A childish sneer at the slow-moving gaze.

 

The middle-aged man’s face hardened. The knight’s aura radiated fiercely, but Mirania was as relaxed as if she felt nothing.

 “A hundred years ago, the Academia, the educational institution of humans. Humans who taught there were called professors. I remember.” 

Surprise flashed in the middle-aged man’s eyes.

 “Who are you?” “Donnie told me.” “Don’t lie to me about being human. Humans don’t hold mana in their bodies like you do.” “You don’t seem to be a mage, are you an adept swordsman?” “I can create Aurors, and I have an innate ability to sense energy.” 

Whispering to the man that it was now her turn to answer.

 “I am a witch.” “A witch?” 

The middle-aged man’s brow narrowed, and he stared at you in incomprehension.

 “You mean a human who has practiced curses?  “…” 

He blinked, as if something had suddenly dawned on him. His voice trembled slightly.

 “Or… do you mean those witches who inhabit the First Continent?” 

The term witch usually had two meanings.

 

One was any mage not related to the Witches, but who practiced a form of magic that was not entirely magical.

 

The other refers to a member of a clan of witches, like wolves or bears.

 

However, the two are often thought of as the same by common humans, and those who know of witches tend to think of them as legends and myths.

 

An unknown clan that harvests gifted girls and huddles deep in the woods tends to be the stuff of legend.

 

Those who knew exactly who they were and what they could do were wary of witches as if they were human enemies, which was the case with the wizards of the Tower of Magic a century ago.

 “In the Second Continent, witches are generally regarded as evil, evil people. But I sense nothing sinister about you. Quite the contrary.” 

His expression clouded with confusion.

 “I didn’t know there were any witches left on the Second Continent. No, wait. I thought the Witches had a strange relationship with the Emperor, which is why they’ve only ever lived on the First Continent. Why would they be in the Imperial City?” 

Despite the questioning glances she received, Mirania pressed on.

 “Emperor?” 

The man’s eyes narrowed.

 “Ah, the leader of the beasts, whom the palace folk do call High Lord.” 

‘You don’t like Grecan, no wonder.’ 

 

Perhaps Donaty was a peculiarity, a difference between the beast and the humans.

 

The man opened his stiff mouth,

“Then tell me. Why are you, a witch, in the imperial palace, and what is your connection to the Emperor?” “…” “You’d better answer, or I’ll summarily execute you if I think you’re suspicious.” 

Looking into the middle-aged man’s sunken eyes as if he wasn’t being serious, Mirania shrugged.

 

Her wrists were tightly bound, making it difficult to move.

 “You don’t seem to have enough teachers for the number of children, do you mind if I help?” 

The middle-aged man’s eyes narrowed at her nonchalant response.

 “Do you think I’m joking?” 

Clenching his teeth, the middle-aged man’s jaw tightened. Mirania glared at him, then spoke up.

 “Why did the Witch Clan appear on the Second Continent? It’s not hard to answer that question.” “…” “Because the Great Witch has returned.” 

The nervous middle-aged man’s expression turned dumbfounded.

 “The Great, Great Witch?” “…” “You mean the head of the Witch Clan, and she’s with the Emperor, does that mean she’s going to meddle in the affairs of the Second Continent?” 

Mirania shook her head at the stare that demanded an answer.