Date a Witch: Reborn as the Witch of Lust! (GL)
Chapter 46: Cult Hunting and Maid Teasing!

Chapter 46: Cult Hunting and Maid Teasing!

Mel slipped between the crowds in the night market, her expression relaxed as she muttered inside.

Partner. Do the usual, like the last time with Rosana.

[ Got it, Host! Compiling information now! ]

[ Pursuer’s distance to Host: 17m ]

Mel mused at the ’short’ distance. Even without being an expert, she knew 15 meters was far too close to be following a <Witch of Calamity> casually.

Glancing at a jewelry display, she asked inwardly. Partner. Is the cult aware that I am a Witch?

[ Of course not, Host! This System is dutiful for preventing information leaks! ]

So they’re following me without knowing I’m a Witch? Mel hummed, but her thoughts quickly shifted toward reevaluating her approach against the cult.

With a top-down structure, the easiest strategies would be to take down the cult’s archbishops, or their leader, <Necromage> Nyrel. Yet both remained cautiously hidden, so even the Saintess and her Nyxia had difficulties finding them.

Partner. You have an idea why they were following me, right?

[ Yep! But it takes a confirmation from you, little Mel! ]

Then, we’re settled.

Mel’s lips curled to a knowing smile as she walked down the marketplace with practiced ease. She now had an idea how to lure the cult out.

The distance between the pursuer and Mel remained unchanged, with a couple of steps forward.

That was until Mel turned to a street corner where the moonlight failed to reach, shadows enveloping the alleyway and gradually shrouding her as she left behind the crowds.

[ Pursuer’s distance to Host: 17 -> 14m ]

How many others are there, by the way?

[ Four more at the rooftops, hurrying here! They seem to intend to capture you, Host! ]

The Witch whistled to the air as she took a sharp turn onto a narrow pathway. The windows above them were snapped shut, sealing themselves against even the whisper of the wind.

[ Pursuer’s distance to Host: 14 -> 9m ]

[ Other reinforcements approaching. Be careful, Host! ]

Mel stretched her arms, mewling. "Relax. You do know they can’t hurt me, right?"

[ The opposite still remained true. It is better if their minds were hypnotized in an unharmed state! ]

"Glad you thought ahead." Mel nodded approvingly, before stopping before a grey wall.

[ Pursuer’s distance to Host: 9 -> 4m ]

Mel spun on her heel, locking eyes with a man in a suit and tie, his face fallen with the weary pride of a disgraced noble.

She smiled kindly. "Hello. May I ask what this gentleman has in mind to follow a lovely lady like myself?"

The man paused, as if hesitating. But the System knew better.

[ This Cult Member, unprofiled, was stalling for other members to arrive! ]

Sweet. More pawns to control, then.

The thought flashed across her mind as she continued, calm and unfazed. "Oh, please answer if you would like to harm me or not. I’m a little... scared, you know?"

The man finally replied with a clanky, raspy voice as if on cue. "A Lost Magic holder... that controls one’s mind."

The Witch chuckled. Oh, the cult. Always a brute-like, predictable force that was too greedy for its own good.

She tilted her head. "Yes, I am. So, are you going to capture me now, Mr Cultist?"

The man shuddered, his gaze darkening. "It would seem you already know about us. No matter."

Mel’s ears perked up at the footsteps above her as his words dropped.

She glanced up. Several cultists, draped in dark hooded cloaks and armed with anti-magic crossbows, now knelt at the edge of the rooftops, aiming at her with indifferent expressions.

At least their efficiency hadn’t waned, misguided as it was. Mel sighed as the suited man’s grin spread.

He then began to preach. "Your hypnosis, as we checked, only worked on Apprentice targets or below. We’re all Adept ranked, while I am an Expert ranked executive. Your Apprentice ranked summons will be useless here as well."

And he bowed and stretched his arm out, like an invitation to a dance. "Please. Follow us for our grand cause. To save the World. To worship the great sins far above us, willingly without any struggle."

Mel held her chin, her brows drawn in deep thought, as if weighing a decision more difficult than choosing which college to attend, one that felt like it might tip the balance of her entire life.

So, she replied with a smile. "Nah. I’d rather hug pretty girls to sleep."

Swoosh! A crossbolt zipped towards Mel, threatening to silence her loose tongue.

Creak! Yet it snapped mid-air, caught by a ’shadow’ that flapped the wood like a writhing tentacle. Darkness now swallowed the alley, twisting and ready to lash out at any moment.

The Witch watched the shadowy tentacles whip at the air, twitching with clear irritation. It seemed Nyxia was feeling a touch impatient.

Not great. She would have to discipline her maid later.

Her golden eyes swept over the cultists, their lips ajar at the bizarre, eerie scenery. The man in a suit, in particular, had sweat enveloping his forehead, as if he had relived this trauma countless times.

Sighing, she muttered to herself. "<Switch: Witch Form>."

There was no time. Each cultist had an in-built <Self-Destruction> rune, an annoying mechanism that indicated this World was initially supposed to be a dark fantasy.

Unlike her human limitations, her <Witch of Lust> class allowed her <Echo Magic> to affect even those ranked above her, except in rare cases involving very specific artifacts or skills.

Purple and Pink mana swirled to a lavender dress and a Witch hat, as Mel’s hand released her grip, before clenching around the summoned wooden staff.

The man gasped. He was already shocked by another <Void> magic user other than the Archon-ranked Samantha, but Mel’s transformation collided in his mind like a turbulent storm.

He blinked, the Witch’s visage overshadowing the Witch of Pride’s 13 years ago. It was like he was reliving a trauma, before he had sworn never to allow such a power to be uncontrolled again.

And yet, his thought completely disspaited, upon one soft whisper of the pink-haired Witch.

"<Echo Series: Enthereal Call>."

Then, his brain was clouded over the Adept-ranked spell, a murmur that sounded gentler than anything he had ever heard.

His eyes shuddered, yet stubbornly darted around to find reinforcement, only to find his comrades’ bodies hunched, their lips hanging open like puppets with cut strings.

They have underestimated her. His last sight was the Witch’s curved, golden gaze. Perhaps they were less than even ants crawling on the dirt for her.

He chuckled before he ’fell asleep’ under the Witch’s spell.

Mel tilted her head as the shadowy tendrils relaxed around her, slowly retreating into the cracks between the bricks and window frames.

Before the Witch spotted it, a catgirl maid suddenly sprang from nowhere, her grey eyes glaring at the cultists.

She hissed. "Master. How shall you have me dispose of them?"

Mel frowned a little, the bloodlust oozing from her pet’s claws too apparent and overwhelming. She would not dislike it, but would like it more if Nyxia remained docile around others.

Her memory drifted back to when her pet nearly struck Ed in their first negotiation. This cannot continue.

"Nyxia."

Nyxia’s heartbeat stilled. Her Master’s voice, tinged with a quiet affection, tugged back her madness as her expression softened.

Before she knew it, a hand cradled her cheek, drawing her gaze to meet her master’s mischievous eyes.

Mel licked her lips, the sight of her pet’s faint blush stirring a mischievous urge within her. And as if on instinct, she gently pushed her against a wall.

A gasp escaped her maid’s lips, her body fidgeting uncomfortably against Mel’s touch on her face. It was unbecoming of her. A maid was meant to be neutral, mechanical, loyal. Free of selfish desire.

Yet her master leaned in, her hesitation cut with the hot breath puffing against her cat ears.

"You’ve been naughty, my pet."

Her ears curled back against her head, cheeks flushing. It felt like a new door had opened before the maid, one she hadn’t been trained to greet, not as a servant, but as herself.

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