Hope (2)
In every town they passed through, Vergil made it a point to leave something behind on the guild bulletin board.
[If you’re a witch, your knight is waiting.]
Without fail, he left message after message, ensuring it was placed where it couldn’t be missed in case Seris happened to be in town.
[If you’re a dragon, kindly fuck off.]
And more than that, he wanted the locals to know he was searching for her, so that if word ever reached a white haired witch, she would know where to look.
After a year, his efforts were finally starting to bear fruit.
“Eek!”
“It’s the Death Knight!”
“Quickly, hide!”
Careful never to reveal his real name and trigger the bounty tied to it, Vergil traveled under the title of “The Witch’s Knight.”
But somewhere along the way, words twisted themselves, and he was branded instead as the “Wandering Death Knight” or “Death Knight” for short.
Vergil paid the panic little mind.
He strode toward the fleeing bandits, beat them for a bit, then seized one of them by the hair and hauled him upright.
“Heard a witch came into town. Any idea about that?”
“Y-Yes! M-Might be the one you’re looking for, Sir—no, Lord!”
“Details.”
“She came in at dawn! W-White hair. Kept her hat low, b-but everyone noticed. Didn’t stay long. Asked about supplies and the road west, then left before noon…”
“Which way?”
“T-The old forest path. Toward the cliffs.”
Vergil released him without another word. The bandit collapsed to the ground, scrambling away as fast as he could.
Vergil turned toward the horizon, already moving.
“Ah, morning, Death Knight. Care for some bread?”
The local baker greeted him with a familiar smile, holding out a fresh loaf.
Ever since Vergil had driven off bandits and thieves more times than anyone could count, she had taken to offering him free bread every morning.
“Not at the moment. I’ll come back later. Miss Lara, did you hear anything about a witch in town?”
She paused, thinking, then nodded slowly.
“Aye. Word’s been going around since yesterday. White hair, wasn’t she? Sounds exactly like the woman you’re looking for. Passed through early. Bought a bit of flour and dried meat. Didn’t cause trouble.”
“Which way did she go?”
“West. Toward the old forest. She looked like someone who knew exactly where she was heading.”
Vergil inclined his head politely.
“Thank you.”
A small spark of hope stirred in Vergil’s chest.
Could it truly be Seris?
Holding on to that possibility, he made it a point to write something every day in the gallery notebook in the hope that she might come across it.
He imagined her finding a gallery notebook, recognizing his words, and knowing he was still searching.
But nothing ever came of it.
Seris never responded. And in the end, the thread he had kept alive was drowned out by trolls.
There had been one time, however, when someone did reciprocate.
‘You’re not Seris…’
——Of course I’m not. Get him, boys!
The meeting that followed had been nothing more than a trap.
A group of scammers had tried to ambush him, hoping to steal whatever he had.
Naturally, it ended with blood on his hands.
Vergil hurried through the streets, then slowed when he spotted Mary and her mother, Hannah, among the bustle of the marketplace.
Hannah noticed him first.
“Oh, Sir Knight. You left quite early this morning. I was going to prepare breakfast for you.”
“Sorry, woke up quite early. But no time for chat, she might be here.”
Mary turned at the sound of his voice. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
“Really?”
“Yes, well. I hope she is. I’m heading to where she was last seen right now.”
Hannah’s expression softened as she watched him. She didn’t ask who he meant. On the other hand, Mary smiled even wider.
“I hope it really is her!”
“Me too.”
Once more, Vergil headed west.
As he moved through the town, familiar faces turned his way.
People recognized him now.
After three months of staying there, helping with odd jobs and driving off bandits whenever they appeared, his presence had become a strange sort of reassurance.
To those who wanted nothing more than an honest life, Vergil was dependable. To bandits, he was the bane of their existence.
He returned nods as he passed and kept moving.
The road thinned as the town faded behind him. Buildings gave way to dirt paths, then to uneven ground marked by old wagon tracks.
Trees began to crowd closer together and, by the time he reached the forest’s edge, the noise of the town was gone.
Vergil noticed a group of hunters approaching the village in wagons. Several deer lay piled on it.
“Ah, Sir Knight. A pleasant morning to ya.”
Vergil slowed and inclined his head in return.
“Morning.”
The hunter glanced toward the forest behind him, then back at Vergil.
“Heading out again? You’re usually the one coming back when we’re just setting out.”
“Looking for someone.
The man scratched his chin, exchanging a glance with the others.
“If it’s the witch folk’s been whispering about, you might be late. Saw a woman pass through the forest early. White hair. Didn’t look like she was hunting.”
“Which direction?”
“Deeper west. Toward the ravine. Strange place to go alone.”
“Thanks.”
Vergil didn’t wait for anything else. He turned and continued on.
The forest grew denser as he went.
By the time he reached the ravine, the air had turned cooler with the sound of rushing water below.
Vergil slowed.
“.......”
There were signs someone had passed through.
Footprints were etched into the soft earth near the edge, as if the person had known exactly where to step.
A torn strip of cloth hung from a branch, caught where someone must have accidentally brushed past in a hurry.
Vergil crouched and touched the ground. The prints were fresh.
He followed the trail along the ravine’s edge.
His mind told him he was close.
Yet as the path stretched on, the presence he expected never appeared.
In the end, the tracks led him to a large boulder, half buried into the ravine’s edge as if it had fallen there ages ago and never moved since.
“Sigh.”
Vergil placed a hand against the cold stone and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
“Another dead end.”
Vergil stood and let out a breath, forcing the disappointment he felt down.
He had been through this before, too many times to count.
Still, something bothered him.
There were scratches along the stone.
“......”
Vergil stepped back and looked around once more, committing the place to memory.
Even if it wasn’t her, someone had come through here.
With one last glance at the boulder, Vergil turned away from the ravine and continued west.
He moved along the higher ground, following the smallest signs.
Things that most would miss, but Vergil had learned to live off small things.
After an hour, the air changed.
“......”
Vergil stopped.
He reached out to the edge of a frozen leaf that didn’t melt despite the climate.
“Seris…”
He followed the trail of frost between the trees until he reached a small clearing tucked away from the main paths.
The grass was flattened as if someone had knelt or fallen to the ground.
A few stones were cracked, and at the center was a shallow circle where the earth had been kissed by cold.
Vergil crouched, eyes narrowing.
There was a mark on the soil that was barely visible.
A single line drawn through the dirt with something sharp, then another beside it, like a simple symbol someone had left without thinking.
He stared at it for a long moment.
It wasn’t proof, but something close enough to hurt.
Vergil rose to his feet and looked toward the deeper west, where the forest turned darker.
“If you’re out there, then stop running in circles…”
Time passed.
Vergil slowed, then stopped altogether.
“……”
Ahead of him, someone was standing under the trees.
A witch hat.
He couldn’t see her face clearly, nor could he tell the color of her hair clearly.
The hat’s brim cast a shadow, and her back was turned as she crouched near a fallen log.
But a witch hat was a witch hat.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if Seris even still had the witch hat. Nevertheless, it was something only he and she knew.
“......”
His heart lurched. He had to calm his breathing.
He took a step forward.
“…Seris?”
The witch paused.
Slowly, she turned around.
For a split second, Vergil nearly smiled out of relief.
Then he saw her face.
“…Who are you?”
Indeed, her hair was white, but she wasn’t Seris.
The woman blinked, clearly surprised by the question. Then she stood up, brushing dirt from her gloves.
“So it really is you. Sir Vergil.”
“You know me.”
His eyes narrowed. The fact that she knew his name was enough to put him on edge.
A bounty hunter, perhaps?
Vergil’s hand went to the hilt of his blade.
“I do. Lord Noah sent me.”
“Lord Noah?”
The tension in his body eased as his hand slowly dropped away.
Noah.
The novel’s protagonist. The lord he had once served.
“Yes. He asked me to find you. It’s been a year since then.”
She paused, studying him openly.
“It wasn’t easy, following your trail. You move around too much. But you’re quite active in the gallery notebook. And because of the messages you leave on guild boards, I at least knew I was heading in the right direction.”
Vergil eyed her warily.
The disguise made sense now.
She had mimicked Seris so he would notice her.
“What does Noah need?”
“For you to meet him. He says you should stop wandering around.”
“......”
“You might not know this, but the Empire has begun cooperating with the beastfolk, the dwarves, and even the dragons to search for you. It’s only a matter of time before they find you here.”
“......”
“Lord Noah says he can protect you.”
Vergil considered it for a moment, then asked.
"Where am I supposed to see him? Not many places where I can move around freely."
"Where else? The capital, obviously."
"......."
Vergil frowned.
"Are you crazy?"
