Reborn as a witch in another world [slice of life, isekai] (ch. 95)
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 95. For the sake of charm
When I woke up, Lily and Smokewell still hadn't arrived. They'd been out all day yesterday since we parted ways at the station. I took a long bath, letting the week’s fatigue dissolve, then slipped into a simple gown and stepped out into the hallway.
Lenora was still in her room, probably poring over the witchcraft material we'd given her. When I'd returned from my negotiations with Mirabelle, Lenora had opened the door with one of my old notebooks in hand. She had given me a nod in greeting with her eyes still fixed on the pages and then quietly walked back to her room. I smiled wistfully as Old Elsa's memories of learning witchcraft as a beginner flashed in my mind. The obsession that sets in when you learn something new, something that would make you better at something.
These flashes of memories could be surreal sometimes. They snuck up on me like an unseasonal rain and made me nostalgic about moments I hadn't even experienced first-hand. Yet they were my memories now. And I felt them the way Old Elsa would've felt them.
As I made my way downstairs I remembered the vision of my past that I had in Noblegate. I hadn't remembered any of Old Elsa's memories as vividly as I did this particular one. And I still didn't know exactly what that meant. But I felt like it wasn't really a coincidence that I had such a vision only a little while after my eyes had been altered with corpse blood. If I could see and hear other people's abyss because of this alteration, it was quite possible that this ability of perception also affected me on some level in return. For now, this was just a theory. But certainly something to keep in mind for my progress up the echelons. Especially if it meant that I could remember something that might aid me in becoming more like Old Elsa. Or make me a better witch.
But that could wait for now. The worry of the current hour was food. I needed breakfast and I needed more of it than usual.
I cut several slices of bread, fried four eggs, several strips of bacon, then made four cups of coffee. Then I sliced an apple, a pear and some strawberries before tossing them together in a bowl to make a quick salad. Then I rushed back upstairs and stormed into Lenora's room. I hadn't been wrong, she was hunched over her desk, still immersed in the study of witchcraft. I invaded her private space like a four-year-old high on sugar and shut her books. I pulled her out of her chair and pushed her out into the hallway. “You are joining me for breakfast and that's an order,” I said.
Lenora yelped at my ambush but let out a chuckle before coming to the table with me.
“You should've called me if you were hungry,” she said as she sat across from me.
“And make you cook for me? Really, Nora? Who made you the housemaid again?” I rolled my eyes playfully and set a loaded plate of food in front of her. “Or are you implying that my culinary skills are lacking compared to yours.”
The woman's eyes went wide. “I would never–”
“It's just breakfast, Nora,” I said. “It's no big deal. Also, you need your calories. We don't want you passing out in the kitchen again.”
The woman looked down sheepishly before forking a piece of bacon into her mouth. We ate in comfortable silence for a minute before I said, “So, how goes the study of witchcraft?”
“It's difficult,” Lenora said without missing a beat. “And fascinating. That's the reason why I can't put the notes down.”
“Have you figured out your malice yet?” I said.
This was where Lenora hesitated, “I…don't.” She idly stabbed one of the eggs with her fork.
“Relax,” I said. “No one is rushing you to become an archmaster. Also, as amazing as witchcraft can be, it is also very dangerous. Not just to others but also the witch involved.”
Dangerous? her abyss perked up.
I quickly stopped the question before she could voice it out loud. “Dangers you don't need to face yet. You haven't even advanced to the lowest echelon. Which means you can still have fun with this new thing you discovered.” I remembered the conversation Lily and I had with Smokewell. I felt a shiver at the idea of having to rely upon an addiction to numb myself from the fear of malice illnesses. “You don't need to face anything that comes with being a serious witch. I mean, look at madam now. She is a cat and she still can't stop smoking.”
She nodded passively. I listened to her abyss. It still wouldn't hurt to at least be able to know what my malice is. Even if I don't advance to any echelons, I would like to know what's special about me.
I took a sip of my coffee. "Have you done the Malice Divination Ritual yet?" I asked, tapping into Old Elsa's memories from her early days of learning witchcraft. The ritual involved drawing a pentacle on a piece of cloth. At its center would be an empty cup. You had to focus on filling that cup with your malice. If the cup caught fire, your malice gave you physical powers. If the cup became transparent, your malice was something abstract. Those were the two categories that malice could be divided into.
Lenora pulled out a handkerchief and held it up. A pentacle with a cup at the center was drawn on it with charcoal. "I'm trying to charge it but it doesn't work," she said with an annoyed huff. “I don't even know how to use my malice to charge a pentacle. Smokewell had pissed me off that time that allowed her to determine that I had malice in me. But even when I try to anger myself to charge the pentacle, it doesn't work.” She tossed the handkerchief on the table, frustrated.
“Maybe anger isn’t the thing that puts you in touch with your malice,” I said, shrugging.
The woman looked at me curiously.
“Yes, malice is the thing that we harbor within ourselves since childhood because of some bad things that happen,” I said. “That doesn't mean that we can access that malice only by making ourselves angry and sad. Look at me.” I leaned back in my chair and opened my arms. “My malice is knowledge. The way I draw upon its power is by being curious, trying to piece together the puzzles around me, trying to see what others miss.”
“But you can do that because you already know your malice is knowledge. You know you are getting better and more intelligent each time you do it,” she said, crossing her arms with a little pout.
“There you have it,” I said, going back to eating my breakfast. “Close the books and think. What was it that you did to ease your own suffering? When you answer that, you'll know how to draw upon its power.”
Lenora just stared at the food in front of her while I quietly ate mine. We finished our breakfast in the thoughtful silence of the dining room.
--
I spent a couple of hours in my room at my desk, making a few sketches in my notebook about an idea I had got since my little trip to Noblegate with Lily. The bottles lined with azure varnish sat on the window above my desk. I looked at the unnatural glow as sunlight glinted through their glass.
Azure varnish was the thing that necromancers used to polish skeletons with. It kept the essence of undeath bound to the bones, allowing them to walk around and do their master's bidding. It made sense to use something like that to contain abysses within jars.
A similar principle could be applied to something else maybe?
I kept making my sketches with notes in the margins about my ideas.
I got up from my desk sometime in the afternoon, got dressed and left the house to board the tram to Orowen.
--
Asmod's Nook was as obscure as always by the sidewalk. I stepped inside. The deceptive greeting cards sat on their shelves, affecting my emotions as I let my gaze linger upon them without piercing through their illusion.
“Hello,” a voice spoke up.
I jumped with a start. Myrtle was standing behind me with a broom. “You scared me,” I said.
“I'm sorry,” she said nervously, “I was standing right here for several minutes but you didn't notice me so I decided to call out to you in the end. I didn't mean to startle you.”
“It's okay, I guess.” I sighed, putting a hand on my chest to feel my heartbeat that was almost racing.
“Hey there, Grimly,” another voice said.
I jumped again. Asmod had appeared by the opposite wall. “You guys need to stop sneaking up on me,” I said.
He looked at me, confused. “I didn't sneak. I was right here for five minutes. You didn't notice me so I–”
“Yes, I get it. I get it.” I sighed again. “It's okay.”
The three of us headed up the stairs to Asmod’s apartment. He was making us some tea while Myrtle and I sat in the small living room. I leaned back on the couch and said, “Tell me what you know about charms?” I said.
Myrtle perked up a bit but recovered quickly. “Um, a charm is an object that amplifies the effect of certain spells or runes.”
“That's the basic definition,” I said. “Tell me how many kinds of magical energies can a charm store within itself?”
“Three,” Myrtle said confidently. “Because more than that can make the charm unstable.”
I nodded. So I hadn't been too off the track with my idea. I pulled out my notebook and flipped it open to the pages where I'd made my sketches. I handed it to her. “Take a look at it and tell me what you think,” I said.
The dwarf girl went through the sketches and notes and raised an eyebrow. She examined the drawings and notes for several minutes, mumbling something to herself while nodding a little as if working out the logistics in her mind. By then Asmod walked over with the tea. I picked a cup and took a sip.
Myrtle put the book down and blew a soft breath. “I've never seen a charm that served this purpose,” she said. “Or one that worked on this principle.”
Asmod looked at me, intrigued. “What have you cooked up now, Grimly?” he said.
“Myrtle,” I said. “Why don't you explain it to him? So I'll know that you understand my idea and whether or not it is possible.”
“Okay, I'll begin by saying that yes, it is possible,” she said and turned to Asmod. “Miss Grimly made a design for a special kind of charm. It contains an abyss within itself. And a hex. Every abyss contained within the charm will serve its purpose for a fixed period of time. And then it will be extinguished by the inbuilt hex after that period.”
Now it was Asmod's turn to raise an eyebrow. “That sounds interesting. But what purpose is this charm going to serve?”
With a small smile, I said, “Communication.”
“Right now, the biggest hurdle that any business in Ravenwind faces is fast communication,” I said. “That's also the reason why a chain of outlets like our taverns couldn't work before. Gathering information about what goes on in every city is going to be the main purpose of these taverns. That information needs to be passed around quickly. This charm will help us in that.”
I could hear Myrtle and Asmod's abysses being both intrigued and impressed. That charm was nothing but an abyss powered mobile phone. And even though I was selling it as a faster means of communication, there were several other theories I wanted to test through this charm.
I looked at Myrtle. “Well, you know the concept. Now it's your job to craft those charms. And craft them quickly.” I turned to Asmod, “And it's your job to use your contacts and fix her with a good workshop and materials.”
Both of them perked up in unison and nodded. I sighed inwardly. To them, this probably looked like a small grind. From what I’d seen of her work, I could safely assume that Myrtle could craft a dozen charms without any problem in a couple of days. But neither of them knew the danger that I was facing. If I could destroy an abyss instead of liberating it, I wouldn't be making the Ruler of Abyss any stronger by being a puppet in her hands.
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Posted Jan 30, 2026, 12:21 PM UTC