Volume 3 Chapter 177 The Regular Army Of Maribel
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Back at Ramsey Castle, Kian gave his report to both Owl’s Knights and the Holy Squad, including Gary and Homork III. After that, Natra took charge of inspecting and organizing the weapons and armor they had recovered. He was also put in charge of their redeployment.
Meanwhile, Kian got to work drafting the official announcement, which would be held at 7:30 AM. He also planned to leave a short window for questions afterward, so he couldn’t end it with something like, “Owl was killed and replaced by a monster. That’s all.”
He needed a believable explanation—one backed up by proof and logical conclusions.
Although the administrative aide Knight hesitated about allowing questions, the recent tension among the townspeople made it likely that they might explode again. It was better to be open and honest, to earn their trust by showing a clear effort to compromise.
Elsewhere, Rufna, Sarah, and Linca were continuing their work on Ramsey’s defensive barrier, which had been left unfinished. There was no clear date for completion. If Umar had already left the old temple, then he’d likely passed through Ramsey without triggering any alerts. With Owl’s Wing-Cain no longer patrolling, even a dragonfly could enjoy a smooth ride through the skies.
By the time the clock passed 6 AM, Kian finally wrapped up the draft and handed it to the aide Knights for review. While they worked on edits, Kian decided to send letters to Eleonora and Maribel.
In the letter to Eleonora, he asked about his recent encounters with the Wolfmen and Umar, and whether the temple group was still safe. The letter to Maribel carried a warning: Umar had attacked him and might already be heading her way. Nervous but calm, Kian chose to entrust the rest to Maribel and Lucretia, the Head Magician of Izerland.
As for Christy… Kian could only hope she stayed out of Umar’s path, especially given her tendency to trust the wrong people.
Out in the back garden of the castle, Kian was calling for Wing-Cain when he spotted the aide Knight and Gunter, the head of the military, running toward him from the back gate.
”Lord Kian!” the aide shouted.
”Is the draft finished?” Kian asked, brushing some dust off his sleeve.
”No, it’s not about that,” the aide replied, glancing sideways. “Lord Gunter says he needs a warrant.”
”What kind of warrant?” Kian asked as his eyes shifted to Gunter.
The man was wearing a white surcoat, his face pale and worn. Across his neck ran a fresh-looking scar—evidence of the recent Adventurer attack. Linca had said it would probably fade after a few weeks and blend in with his tan, but until then, every glance in the mirror would bring back the pain.
”This is a search and seizure warrant—for Adventurer Guild leader Dainan’s residence,” Gunter said, handing over the documents. “Here’s the investigation report.”
”You’re not the type to act on impulse anymore, are you?” Kian asked with a faint smirk as he accepted the eight-page report.
”You should speak with more respect toward your lord,” the aide muttered.
Gunter glanced at the aide beside him.
”Anyway, understood,” Gunter said with a dry laugh. “Soon, Princess Maribel will issue a formal decree. She plans to place me directly under her command. It’s sudden and might not be easy, but I thought you should know.”
”Princess Maribel’s…? Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Kian replied, lowering his gaze. “Lord Gunter, if I may be honest—I don’t wish to serve under Princess Maribel. Look how Lord Owl was treated. If we go down that road, we’ll be thrown into the frontlines again… used up and forgotten in the next war.”
”H-Hey! That’s not something you should say in front of the Knight Commander!” the aide whispered in panic.
”Ah—”
”──Sorry. I got caught up in reading the report,” Kian said, looking up. “Did you say something?”
Gunter and the aide both froze, expressions stiff with unease.
”I won’t report it to the princess,” Kian added. “It’s fine.”
”Really?”
”Yes. I’m not sworn to Princess Maribel. I only aligned with her temporarily to stop Oswald.”
After reading through the entire report and confirming nothing was missing, Kian signed the warrant and handed the papers back.
”Wait a little before detaining him,” Kian said, tapping the signed document. “If we grab him now, it could cause an unnecessarily long detention. If he runs, resists, or starts destroying evidence, then act right away—but let me know first.”
”Understood,” Gunter replied with a nod.
”Thank you.”
Kian tied his letters to Wing and Cain, the two winged messengers that had just landed nearby. Once he gave them the signal, they took off, flapping high into Ramsey’s sky. With that, there was no longer any need to send Natra or anyone from Izerland just to deliver the message.
Once the birds disappeared into the clouds, Kian and the others turned and headed back inside.
* * *
Later, the public announcement and Q&A session were held.
It took nearly two hours to settle things with the residents. When it was finally over, Kian returned to his study and sat down. The aide Knight soon brought word that Maribel’s group—not trained soldiers, but a band of rogues—would arrive after 1 p.m.
Until then, Kian decided to go over the applications from residents who wished to evacuate to other cities.
To help with the task, the aide handed him Ramsey’s residents’ ledger, which also worked as a land registry.
To his surprise, the ledger was actually up to date.
By contrast, in Eleonora’s Sunlightland and Maribel’s Westside, the lords didn’t even know where their own people lived. This wasn’t uncommon. Many of the regional lords under Franz were in similar situations.
Without knowing who lived where, they couldn’t collect taxes directly.
Instead, most lords relied on tax agents—often mid-ranked Adventurers who lived nearby and knew who owned what. These agents handled everything, from measuring land to estimating livestock numbers.
But without a proper ledger, there was no way to check if the agents’ tax reports were true. As a result, embezzlement ran rampant. Many agents skimmed off large amounts of tax money, forcing the lords to raise taxes just to make up the difference. Some said more than 30% of all taxes were stolen this way.
Oswald, however, had been different.
From his predecessor’s time, he had taken steps to investigate his lands carefully, build a reliable ledger, and remove tax agents entirely. Instead, his own officials collected taxes directly.
Because of that, both the people and the city of Ramsey flourished. The tax system was fair, and life here was easier compared to other places. When war threatened the land, many residents chose to stay—partly because they didn’t want to leave behind a town they could actually rely on.
Oswald wasn’t just strong in battle. He had been a true ruler. And perhaps more than anyone else… he loved Ramsey.
”Lord Kian!”
Kian looked up as the door to his office burst open. Gunter rushed in, the Vassal Knights right behind him.
”What is it, Mr. Gunter?” Kian asked, standing from his desk.
The Knights had bound the Guild Master of Ramsey’s Adventurer Guild with thick rope and were dragging him like a prisoner.
He told them to report to him—not to do something so rough.
Kian clicked his tongue softly and walked toward them.
”Let go of me! Do you know who I am? I’m the Guild Master of Ramsey! The Adventurer’s Guild won’t ignore this!” the man shouted, his voice cracking with anger.
”Mr. Gunter, untie him right now,” Kian said calmly.
”Lord Kian, he was obstructing official duties,” Gunter replied.
”Even so, this isn’t the way. Please, untie him.”
What a hopeless military head, Kian thought with a sigh.
From the balcony, Talia watched the scene below and let out a disappointed breath.
Once the ropes were removed, the Guild Master gave Kian a glare full of anger—but also defeat—as he stepped forward.
He looked like a man who already knew the outcome.
”We found what looks like Azrael’s magic tool in his house, along with contracts and a set of very detailed instructions written in the Azraelian language,” Gunter reported. “Lady Linca translated them for us. From what she read, it’s clear this man was guiding children and stirring up riots.”
”Please show me the letters later,” Kian said, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “I’ll examine them too.”
”Damn Azraelians,” the Guild Master spat, his phlegm landing heavily on the fine carpet.
”You and Owl have no right to rule Ramsey!” he shouted, baring his yellowing teeth at Kian. “Sir Oswald is the true lord of this town!”
The middle-aged man’s gums showed with each word. His teeth were chipped, the marks of stress and time.
”You Azraelian rats are worse than Beastmen,” the Guild Master growled. “That Owl who plays with filthy monsters is even more disgusting!”
”Are you just a plain racist?” Kian asked calmly, tilting his head. “Even so, you listened to Umar.”
”Azraelians should tear each other apart,” the Guild Master muttered, jaw clenched.
”That’s all you have to say?” Kian asked, eyes narrowing. “You went to school there, didn’t you?”
The Guild Master’s face turned red in an instant.
”Because I’m from the West, they all stepped on me!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Umar helped me… he made sure I could graduate. I don’t care about him, but I pay back what I owe. I’m not like you stink-covered rats!”
”That sense of honor is what ruined you,” Kian said, voice flat.
”Damn you!”
”Hold him in a cell for now,” Kian ordered, turning away. “Since we can’t hold court here, speak with Princess Maribel later. Transfer this one and the other suspects to Izerland.”
”Understood. — Move!” Gunter and the other knight called out.
”Ugh!” the Guild Master groaned as he twisted under the knight’s grip. He spat toward Kian.
”You called me a racist, didn’t you?” he sneered, eyes burning.
”So what if I did?” Kian replied, not flinching.
”Your own father can’t stand you,” the Guild Master hissed, words sharp and low. “He hates your face, the way you talk, even your smell. Says it all reminds him of his mother.”
”I’ve never seen my grandmother’s face,” Kian said coolly. “So that’s a strange thing to bring up. Are you saying Umar told you all that?”
”I don’t care about your grandmother!” the Guild Master barked. “What I’m saying is—people can hate each other even if they’re blood. Even if they’re the same race.”
Dragged away by the vassal knight, he threw his last words like a curse.
”If different races or species hate each other, it’s just natural! Don’t act like I’m the strange one, you naive fool!”
”Lord Gunter, take him away,” Kian said.
”…Hah,” Gunter sighed, yanking the man along.
”Sir Oswald will be back!” the Guild Master shouted behind him. “And when he is, this town will belong to Ramsey again! Until then, enjoy your spice while you can, you freak!”
The guild leaders left one after another. When silence returned, Kian gave a quiet sigh and walked back to his desk.
* * *
The work was finally done past midnight.
Only an hour remained before the reinforcements from Izerland were set to arrive. After giving a few final instructions to the assistant knight about the unfinished paperwork, Kian dressed in his full Silver Ice armor and strapped on his magic sword. Then, with no time to waste, he made his way behind the castle toward the rally point.
The incoming reinforcements were supposed to teleport to the farmland south of Ramsey. To meet them, Kian would travel through the castle’s teleportation gate. Once they joined, the plan was to escort them north, where they’d set up camp in the farmlands.
”Sir Kian,” a calm voice called out.
Waiting behind the castle was Natra, a magician from the Wolfmen. She stood with her staff in one hand and a large cloth bundle in the other. The scent of warm bread and roasted sage sausage drifted from the bundle.
”Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kian said, stepping up beside her. “Let’s go to the meeting point. Can you open the gate?”
”Yes,” Natra answered with a nod. “But please eat something once we’re there. You haven’t had a bite since last night, right?”
”You’re right,” Kian admitted, glancing down.
Natra looked up at him, worry flickering in her eyes.
”Your magic link is still cut off,” she said softly. “Wouldn’t it be better to reconnect it and restore your magic flow?”
”No,” Kian replied, adjusting his gauntlet. “You and Rufna are both holding magic swords. It’s more useful if you act on your own. If we stay linked, my power drains fast with distance anyway.”
”You don’t have to push yourself so hard…” she said.
Without waiting for his reply, Natra stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. Even though both of them wore heavy Silver Ice armor, the faint smell of soap from her clean skin still reached him.
”Natra?”
”I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t understand you before. Maybe I still don’t. But… I want Sir Kian to know that he’s not alone.”
”Is this about what happened with Umar this morning?” Kian asked.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she gently pressed against his shoulders, guiding him down. He leaned forward without resisting. Her small chest, covered in a white formal dress beneath the armor, softly rested against his face.
”I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It must’ve been painful… having someone see you get scolded like that. Especially by your father. I’m sure it made you feel strange.”
”It was sad,” Kian said quietly.
Natra’s voice trembled as she spoke again.
”I was just… sad and lonely.”
”Natra… are you crying?” Kian asked, lifting his gaze to her face.
Natra, who rarely showed emotion, now had tears running down her cheeks, her face tightly scrunched up.
”I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m ashamed that you saw me like this.”
”You are not to blame for any of this!” Natra’s voice broke with sobs as she knelt beside him, her eyes locked firmly on Kian’s face.
”Sir Kian, I’m here. I will stay with you forever!” she promised with a trembling voice.
Kian shook his head softly. “Thank you, but mercy isn’t needed. It will be hard, but I want you to treat me like before.”
”Of course,” Natra said, then gently cupped his face and stroked the back of his head. He almost whispered “baby,” but Talia’s sharp voice cut through, ‘Read the room, idiot.’ So, he held back and stayed serious, continuing the embrace.
”Sir Kian, your heart has had enough rest. There’s not much time left. Please take care of the gate,” Natra asked.
”…Understood. Sorry,” Kian bowed slightly and stepped back to open the gate.
Kian passed through and descended onto the town road that cut through the farmland south of Ramsey.
To the south, the wheat fields stretched wide as always. The wheat was still green but tall and full at the tops. In about ten days, it would turn golden, glowing under the sunlight.
The wind coming from Izerland was dry, swept over by the Snow Pass of the Giant. The sky was clear—no sign of rain today.
Ramsey rarely saw rain because of the Dacia Mountains and Snow Pass of the Giant surrounding it. Only in some autumns, when winds changed, would long rains fall. If winter to spring had been warmer, the wetlands and marshes would have dried long ago.
”They haven’t come yet, right?” Kian asked.
”No, we still have about twenty minutes,” Natra replied.
”Then, let’s have lunch,” Kian said.
”Yes, let’s.”
They sat on a stone wall reinforced with earth magic and shared bread and sausage sage.
Their talk turned to Serena.
Earlier that morning, twenty-one Wolfmen had been killed, and their gear stolen. It was impossible to hide this from Serena. Natra had asked someone to explain everything to her.
”Lady Serena looked very sad,” Natra said quietly.
”I felt sorry for her,” Kian admitted.
”But she said, ‘It can’t be helped,’” Natra added.
”‘It can’t be helped’… but this isn’t something we can just forget. Because of us, the Storm Herd is nearly wiped out. We don’t even know what will happen to them now.
”Ozeas, Glen, and the others from the Silverwooloo clan—Barghest, Isthbaran, Juji—at most thirty-six top magicians—they’re all dead too,” Natra said grimly.
”All gone?” Kian’s eyes widened.
”According to Lady Linca, after you and the Elder Sister infiltrated, three magicians were confirmed dead. Barghest fled. The magician who controlled siege magic, who died this time, was sixteen in number. Plus, sixteen magicians in the Silverwooloo warriors were either lost in the other world or turned to crystal in the ancient temple. So except for Lady Serena, all magicians were wiped out. They’re gone completely.”
”I guess it’s mostly our fault,” Kian admitted, handing Kian a water bottle.
”I heard even Silverwooloo’s regular soldiers are elites. If any magician knowledge stays with them, they might rebuild in five to ten years, when a new generation grows up. And since we’re in the middle of war, even if we hadn’t done this, it might have happened anyway.”
”Do you really think so?” Kian asked, doubting.
They couldn’t imagine Juji or Isthbaran falling to regular soldiers. Even the Holy Squad wouldn’t handle them well unless facing Oswald or Renaud directly.
”Sorry, I take it back. Maybe it really is our fault…” Kian muttered.
”Yeah, probably. Even though we won the fight, I still feel down,” Natra said. “At times like this, we need something fun. How about a one-person comedy show? I’ve been practicing an impression of Lady Linca.”
”Oh? What kind?”
”An impression of Lady Linca spilling tea when no one’s watching, then turning bright red with embarrassment. I didn’t miss a single detail.”
Natra’s impression of Linca was surprisingly good, and Kian nodded, judging it.
Kian then crushed a mug with his strong grip and did an impression of Sarah, who embarrassed, shouted, “The mug is cheap!” in mock anger.
”Have you ever thought what if that mug were your male organ, Sir Kian?” Natra teased.
”Stop it,” Kian said, rolling his eyes.
Suddenly, Natra pointed. “Ah, the gate just opened. A big wave of magic is pouring out.”
As she said, a giant gate appeared where the town road met the farm road by the wheat fields.
By the time Kian and Natra stood up and approached, shadows of armed soldiers poured out from the gate. The town road quickly filled with soldiers, their armor clanging and voices mixing in a loud roar.
Kian stopped at the front of four soldiers leading the group and gave the Azrael-style salute.
”Welcome. I am Kian of Izerland. You must be reinforcements for Her Excellency Maribel, yes?”
”No doubt about it,” a rough voice answered.
The man at the front stepped forward. He was a Beastman with a large, drooping nose, sagging skin around his eyes, and two tusks pointing upward from his mouth. His unhappy mouth set him apart. This was Bertrand de Guéclan.
Talia circled him and whispered, “Looks like he would struggle chewing food.”
”Nice to meet you, Lord Kian,” Bertrand said. “I’m Bertrand de Guéclan from Westside. I was a knight there and was recently made an official knight of Izerland by Princess Maribel. I’ll fight under her banner.”
”Pleasure to meet you,” Kian replied, nervous but steady.
Despite his rough past with bandits, Bertrand spoke clearly and carried himself with dignity. His small eyes scanned their gear and stance quickly. Even with his uneven body shape, his balance was perfect. Beastmen are known for strength, and his tackle could probably knock a horse down. He seemed more like a veteran mercenary captain than a bandit.
Bertrand frowned at Natra, who stood just behind Kian. His suspicion was clear.
’Heh, he’s realized we’ve fought many times without winning. Smart man,’ Talia said quietly.
(Smart? Or just sharp-eyed?)
’And the three women behind him—are they the witches, Your Excellency’s reinforcements?”
Kian glanced back at the three shadows behind Bertrand.
Two were small—one a tiny human girl, the other an elderly woman. The third was medium-sized, about the height of an average woman.
The small girl darted quickly behind Bertrand’s blind spot like an animal. The old woman trembled, leaning on her staff. The medium-sized woman, with short brown hair, stared blankly away, looking bored.
”Captain, I’m hungry,” one of the bandits muttered. Another asked, “Is it okay if I go to the bathroom in the wheat field? We won’t get caught, right?”
The bandits behind spoke up instead.
The bandits gave off a rough, wild feeling, very different from Bertrand’s calm air. Some had crazy, wild eyes that looked like they didn’t care about anything. A few were puffing on pipes filled with strange smoke, the kind you wouldn’t want to get caught with. Others were licking their knives like they were ready to cause trouble. One of them muttered, “I can’t wait to take down those Beastmen,” he said quietly.
”Shut up, you fools! Who told you to open your mouths?” Bertrand shouted, his voice cutting through the noise. ” Or rather stand straight, you lowlifes! We’re the regular soldiers serving Her Excellency Maribel!”
A burly bandit laughed loudly, waving his arms. “Haha, right! Then I’ll stand straight! ‘Ahhh, the drugs are hitting me! Feels so good!’ ‘Regular soldiers get steady pay! Long live!’ ‘Money, booze, drugs, gambling!’ ‘Next stop, Châtillon! Hahaha!’ ‘Izerland dreams forever!’” he called out.
Kian blinked, staring at the strange group. What kind of people are these? It was obvious—they were a weird bunch.
Bertrand pushed the small girl next to him forward and said, “Lady Witch, say hello.”
The girl moved nervously, like a scared little animal. She made a strange noise and looked all around.
”W-wait, me?” she stammered.
”Just introduce yourself,” Bertrand urged.
”I-i-introduce…? Uh, um…” Her long bangs hid her face, and she hugged a staff taller than herself. She spun slowly in place, her messy black hair fluttering in the soft wind blowing through the wheat fields.
”P-people… scary… I-I can’t do introductions,” she whispered.
”Then just say your name,” Bertrand said firmly.
Under the pressure, the girl gasped and glanced at the old woman nearby, who seemed neither alive nor dead. She then shuffled forward, legs bent inward.
”Ah—anyo!” she said quietly.
”Botti… that’s… nice… to meet… you…” she said softly.
Kian smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Botti. Your friend Christina Famille is my lover. I’ve visited your Witch dorm before,” he explained.
”Ah… huh?” Botti blinked in surprise.
”If you ever need help, just tell me,” Kian offered kindly.
”Y-yes… uh… hehehe… so kind…” she replied with a sad smile and stepped back.
Bertrand’s earlier annoyance melted into kindness. “Thank you!” he said loudly, making Botti flinch.
”Next is the one over there,” he said.
It looked like the old woman would speak next, but instead, the tired-looking girl stepped forward. She wore modern, flashy clothes and lots of bright accessories.
”Next!” the others called.
Kian looked at the old woman briefly, then moved forward, nervously playing with her bangs. She stared at Kian and gave a slight bow by tilting her neck.
”I’m Aerial. Nice to meet you,” she said quietly.
Without another word, she returned to her place. She didn’t seem interested in talking or waiting for a reply. The silence that followed was cold and strange. There was no warmth or friendliness in her.
’In the end, it’s that old woman…’
(Why are all these witches in Princess Maribel’s group so odd?)
’It’s about skill. Even Christy is strange, but her power is top level.’
Among the witches, Lucretia was the most normal, but remembering all her sharp comments, maybe she was strange too. In truth, every one of Maribel’s witches was a little unusual.
Bertrand approached the old woman and asked, “Will you introduce yourself last?”
She nodded and took his hand, wobbling as she stepped forward.
”I’m Marilyn~desu. Nice to meet you, Master Kian,” she said in a hoarse voice from beneath her black robe.
”I can use almost all basic magic and open teleport gates. I’ve studied large group magic chants. I’m tougher than I look, so even if I’m sent to the front lines, I can fight hard,” Marilyn explained.
”That’s great! I’m relieved to hear that!” Bertrand said happily.
Though Maribel had assigned her a safe spot, it was still important to show respect.
Marilyn nodded slowly, then glanced at Botti behind her.
”Botti is skilled with deadly curses and weather control. Before Maribel hired her, she was a priestess in a small village. She’s awkward with people but follows clear orders well, so don’t worry. And then…” Marilyn looked back at Aerial.
”Lady Marilyn, I will speak for myself,” Aerial said quietly.
”Good. From now on, speak up first without waiting for me,” Marilyn answered.
”…Yes,” Aerial said as she stepped forward again and bowed deeply in a style like an opera performer.
”I specialize in healing. Nice to meet you,” she said softly.
”That’s not right, Aerial. You’re a witch who uses singing magic. Your song heals and encourages people,” Marilyn corrected gently.
”That’s…! I can’t do that anymore!” Aerial’s voice cracked, and she bit her lip sadly.
”I… can’t make loud sounds now, but I can still heal. Christina taught me basic magic, so I can do simple spells. Nice to meet you,” Aerial finished quietly.
”Yes, I look forward to working with you! Let’s all clap and cheer!” Bertrand shouted cheerfully.
”Hey, everyone, clap your hands! When Marilyn says ‘clap,’ clap like monkeys, got it? Come on! Applaud!” he encouraged.
”Yes, Captain! Uhoh! Nice! Clap clap clap! Haha, clap clap!” the others shouted back.
Kian watched them with disbelief. What are these people…? he thought.
”Hahaha, funny little fools,” he said quietly, hiding his true feelings as he turned back to Bertrand.
”Now, I’ll take you to the campsite. Ramsey’s town is under a magic barrier by Lord Owl, so it’s too dangerous. We’ve set up temporary shelters here, so please use them,” Kian explained.
Notes:
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Gunter – Male. One of Owl’s knights, fully armored in a turtle-like appearance. He is easily distracted by Linca’s charm and struggles to maintain professionalism. His relationship with Owl is one of a subordinate, and he is often scolded for his behavior.
• Serena – Wolfmen Girl
• Isthbaran – The High Warlord of the ‘Storm Herd.’
• Ozeas – Son of Glen, involved in forbidden experiments.
• Juji – Male. Leader of the Wolfmen’s ‘Jinsou’. A skilled warrior with sharp senses and combat abilities. Relationship: Part of the Beastmen Alliance’s delegation.
• Bertrand – The recent knight recruited by Maribel from bandit. He is from boar tribe and have goblin-like face.
• Botti – Female. A petite, nervous witch with long bangs that hide her expression. She specializes in curses and weather control. Botti is socially awkward but follows direct orders well. Her appearance is small and animal-like, often hugging a staff larger than herself.
• Aerial – Female. A modern-looking young woman with short brown hair, revealing clothes, and gaudy accessories. She specializes in healing and basic magic but is cold and unsociable. She has a sad backstory related to losing her ability to sing magic.
• Marilyn – Female. An elderly witch who uses a hoarse voice. She is versatile, skilled in basic magic, teleportation gates, and large-scale group chants. Despite her age, she is sturdy and capable of frontline combat. She acts as a mentor figure to Botti and Aerial.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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