Reborn as a witch in another world [slice of life, isekai] (ch. 84)
Blurb:
What does it take to turn your life around? Death, of course!
I died in this lame ass world of ours and woke up in a completely new one. I had a new name, a new face and a new body. This was my second chance to live a better life than the previous one.
But goddamn it, why did I have to be a witch? Now I don't just have to be on the run from the Inquisition that wants to burn me and my friends. But I also have to earn a living?
Follow Elsa Grimly as she:
- Makes new friends and tries to save them and herself from getting burned
- Finds redemption from the deeds of her previous life
- Tries to get along with a cat who (like most cats) believes she runs the world
- Deals with other slice of life shenanigans.
--
Chapter 84. A different kind of illness
“We'll discuss more on what to do next after you return from Noblegate,” I said to the Radcliffs as we escorted them to the front door. “We might have a handful of adventurers and property by then, but we still lack one asset that a business needs to go up against something like Order of the Unseen.”
“Which asset is that?” Cynthia asked.
“Money,” I said.
Rowland gave a dumb frown. “But don't you all have a million–”
“We'll need more,” I said. “To make future adventurers stay loyal to us in this situation and keep them working for us, we are going to need more money and a bit of something else as well.”
“Like what?” Cynthia asked.
“I'm working on it. We'll discuss when you return,” I said. “One more thing. What happened to that gate under your house after the spider monster appeared?”
“The gate is still hidden.” Rowland nodded.
“The Internal Police doesn't know about it,” Cynthia said, “Your friend's deception barrier really helped.”
“Good,” I said and nodded.
The siblings nodded back and took their leave. We waved at them as the steam carriage took them away. Then Lily said, “We'll have to talk to our landlord when they return. I know they'll be staying with us since their home is destroyed.”
--
Lily and I dug into the honeydrop cakes while Lenora was still asleep upstairs. After that Smokewell lit up her ivory pipe and took a drag. I saw that the blue light that flickered in the well of the pipe was missing right now–probably because Smokewell had used up all the souls she kept stored in them and none remained in it.
“You told me what you did in Noblegate,” she said. “Now tell me what you made. Show me those dolls you were talking about.”
I pulled out the curse channeling paper dolls from my reticule and laid them in front of her. The cat eyed the items with a twinkle of approval in her red eyes. I felt a small swell of pride at her appreciation.
Lily showed her new summoning card she had forged before we'd left for Noblegate. Smokewell nodded at the girl with a similar hint of approval. The girl flashed her a big smile and asked, “These dolls and familiars reminded me about the story of Sybilla Hollow,” she said. “If Sybilla had means to use card summoning for her familiars, she could've raised them like children, right?”
Smokewell sighed and shook her head. “Lily, I told you that story because you were young and I didn't want to tarnish the image of this world in a child's heart,” she said.
“Um, the story of a woman losing her children and trying to replace them with artificial ones and going crazy once she failed doesn't paint a very pretty picture either,” I said.
Smokewell ignored my words and said, “I think you both are now old enough that I can have this talk with you.” The cat paused to take a drag from her pipe. “Witches don't have children. I'd even say that they can't have children. I'm not saying they can't give birth. It's just that whatever a witch gives birth to well…it can't be called a child.”
“I don't get it,” Lily said with a frown.
“Any children that witches give birth to are not going to be normal,” Smokewell said, “Because the child in a witch's belly is exposed to pure and developed malice in her body. Imagine a creature that has no means or ways to develop their own malice and no means to avoid absorbing that malice. What ends up happening is the witch doesn't give birth to a baby but a sentient, intelligent and often a potent curse. But if the witch is on a high echelon while she is pregnant, it might lead to a miscarriage. As for the story of Sybilla Hollow, more scholarly witches believe that Sybilla must've had a still birth. And her mind wasn't ready to believe it. So she might've reanimated the dead baby. But as I said, a witch's child is more often than not a curse, what she resurrected probably tried to hurt her or kill her. So she put it down. But in her mind, she still wanted a child. So she decided to craft familiars and raise them like children. Since familiars don't work like that, she lost all hope and abandoned her hut where other witches found her notes on dollmaker’s alchemy.”
I felt my heart sink at the story. Lily had pursed her lips and she seemed unsure of what she wanted to say. Smokewell kept talking.
“I'm glad you brought up the story of Sybilla,” she said, taking another drag of her pipe. “Because, besides Dollmaker's alchemy, her case gives us a nice glimpse into another important thing about witchcraft. The malice illnesses.”
“Malice…illness?” Lily said, confused.
Smokewell nodded. “There are several reasons why malice illness happens. Sybilla's cursed child is an example of extreme malice illness--caused by the lack of control over the amount of malice gathered in a person at such a young age. Another reason is when a witch enters a state of extreme focus during a ritual or while forging something complicated. Her witchcraft abilities are boosted temporarily but she risks losing control over her own power to the point where her ritual might hurt her, maybe even kill others. Or herself.” The cat paused. “Malice fever is a good example of it.”
My throat went dry at the description of malice fever. Smokewell wasn't looking at me in particular when she described it. And I knew she wasn't dropping any hints about anything that happened in Godfrey's domain. But these reactions I had to some things Smokewell said now felt unavoidable. “I didn't know about these illnesses. They sound interesting,” I said in a normal tone. At least it sounded normal to me.
“Since malice illnesses are directly linked to a witch's capabilities it is obvious that the higher echelon a witch is on, she is more likely to be vulnerable to a malice illness,” Smokewell said. “That's how it is for us independent witches, at least. The ones that are in a coven don't have to worry about it because the Ravenous One who has a pact with them eats their malice in just the right proportion to not let it form any illness.”
“What other illnesses are there?” I asked. “Other than just malice fever. I'm curious.”
Smokewell blew another cloud of smoke. “There are quite a few. Some of them cause ashening of the skin, faster aging. Sprouting poison boils. Delicate pimples that are filled with poison that burst easily and burn the skin. Other illnesses affect your brain and make you see things while some might strike you blind or some might make your eyes rot slowly in their sockets.”
“But why do these illnesses happen? Just because a witch is really good at witchcraft? What causes them in higher echelon witches?” Lily asked.
“There are speculations that it happens because your malice develops and becomes so potent it is difficult to be contained within the mortal human body, leading to the illnesses I mentioned.” Smokewell said, “The only way to avoid this from happening or any illness from getting worse is to progress faster up the echelons. You are safe once you hit the Highmistress echelon.”
Lily seemed flabbergasted. “You mean I'll have to be the best witch in town to avoid turning into a nightmarish hag?” she said. “And wait, what are the symptoms? How do I know I'm contracting a malice illness?”
“That's the amusing part.” Smokewell smirked. “You'll just wake up with an abrupt symptom. That will keep causing other symptoms. You'll have to stay engrossed in witchcraft day in and out. Also, yes, you are going to be safe at the highmistress echelon because only then you can mess around with the shape of your soul, allowing you to make it impenetrable to any dangers. Even against your own malice.”
Lily threw up her hands. “That makes no sense! How am I supposed to focus on witchcraft when in the back of my mind I know I'm slowly rotting away?”
“That's why I said it's amusing, you have to do it despite the illness. There are a few backdoors to it, however.”
“Like what?” Lily said.
“You anchor yourself to something that soothes you and dulls any pains you might have. And you put a special spell on yourself before going to sleep so that the symptoms don't manifest overnight.”
“Anchor?” I frowned.
“Yes, there are many anchors. Like smoking.” She brandishes her ivory pipe. “Or drinking or sniffing ink, sniffing paint, sniffing–”
“No!” I snapped.
For some reason, the room went silent. Both pairs of eyes turned to me. I laughed nervously. “I mean, it sounds a bit ridiculous. Like, the only way to soothe any pain is to…to get addicted to something? Doesn't that sound…a bit excessive?” I said.
“It's the easiest method.” Smokewell shrugged. “Also, once you reach archmistress echelon, something as trivial as smoking or drinking won't be able to hurt you. But you won't be able to kick the habit easily either. Because humans get easily obsessed with anything, you see.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes they do.”
“You are a cat.” Lily pointed at Smokewell. “You are still smoking. Why don't you kick the habit now?”
“I can but I don't have to,” the cat said, blowing smoke at the girl. “Mainly because, it isn't going to hurt me the way it would've when I was fifty or forty. Plus, the body of a malice demon isn't going to be affected by it. And lastly, a human smoking endlessly is pathetic. On the other hand, a cat smoking while teaching witchcraft is quirky. It makes me unique.”
Lily seemed ready to have a profound discourse about what the cat had just said. That's when I interrupted them both. “You said getting addicted to something is the easiest way to dull the pain and enhance focus, right?”
Smokewell nodded. “Either that or find a way to boost your progress.”
“Well, then I'll find a way to do the latter.” I nodded and clenched my fists. “I can prove that I don't need an addiction to make my life easier.”
“Prove it to whom?” Smokewell raised an eyebrow.
To myself, I thought. I realized that I had never tried to prove anything to myself like that before I became Elsa. I had just accepted that I couldn't be anything better. Meth just made it easier to live like that while it was actually ruining me silently.
Now that I had this knowledge, I wanted to do better. This is what Old Elsa would've done too.
Lily hopped out of her chair. “Yes! I'm with Miss Elsa on this. We can prove to madam that we don't have to take up an addiction to become better witches.” She took my hand and smiled.
I smiled back. “Right.”
Patreon (if you wanna read advanced chapters. It has 2-5 weeks worth of chapters rn, depending on the tier)
Posted Dec 19, 2025, 3:59 AM UTC