CHAPTER~11
The Witch of the Story (2)
In her hand was a rag made of leather, from which red liquid flowed.
What I had thought was Kyrus’s blood was probably… just fake blood for stage use.
In the stage props of this world, there were pigskin pouches filled with red-dyed liquid.
‘Even in my debut work, I used tricks like this to save characters from danger. I just forgot.’
Bang-!
Crash!
“D-damn you, royal scum—!”
While the woman and Kallio engaged in a violent struggle, Kyrus whispered just loudly enough for me to hear.
“I-I’m fine.”
His voice was slightly trembling but otherwise normal.
Relieved that he wasn’t dead, my stomach calmed back to its original state.
After collecting my thoughts, I planned my next move.
Whoosh-!
As soon as the thought formed, I threw the torch I was holding.
I wasn’t throwing it at the woman or Kallio.
Whoosh!
The flames headed straight for the puppet stage.
Why?
The diary revealed that the woman was the ‘creator.’
[It’s time to focus on work rather than feelings. Creating the stage, writing the script, moving the puppets—though difficult, it’s okay.]
She built stages, made up stories, and had puppets act them out.
But that didn’t mean she was literally the scriptwriter of the puppet show.
[People who watch my stage laugh. I prefer freely using magic. That’s how my magic works.]
She was someone who could wield magic.
The words stage, script, and puppet were metaphors for how her magic operated.
Even this secret passage stage inside the tomb was arranged like a puppet stage, but no actual puppets existed.
[The magic of a story requires a stage, actors, and a script.]
The theme of her magic seemed to be ‘story.’
The ‘puppet’ she needed—that is, the ‘actor’—was a person.
And for now… everyone entering the tomb served as actors, with the entire tomb as the stage.
Fwoosh!
Flames rose from the old stage.
“Nooooo!”
The woman released Kallio without hesitation.
She desperately ran toward the burning stage, spreading her long arms to cover it.
Normally impossible, but her elongated limbs allowed her to move swiftly alone.
She shook her body frantically, trying to extinguish the flames, but the fire only climbed over her moving body.
The fire, greedily consuming the stage, wrapped around her like a snake.
“My stage… this is all I have left…”
She murmured sorrowfully.
Until the story ended, the actor could not leave the stage.
The woman’s magic, themed on ‘story,’ likely followed the same rule.
Unless she removed the curse she set in the tomb, we could not escape her grasp.
But there was one more way to end the story.
To manifest a story, you need the script, stage, and actors. Remove any, and the story cannot continue.
So I decided to burn the stage. I was certain she would stop moving if the stage caught fire.
I also knew, as a creator, what she valued most.
Thus, she embraced the burning stage and went up in flames with it.
Together with the owner of the script.
Along with the nearby diary.
The curtain of the story began to fall.
Presumably, she had cursed the tomb out of vengeance against the late emperor and his family, and died in the process.
But her dead body continued moving with residual magic.
The curse she placed on the tomb also remained, ensuring the emperor’s descendants would face consequences.
Her ability to place such a strong curse, despite learning magic roughly, was clearly due to the power of the Awakening Stone.
And if I guessed correctly, the Awakening Stone was inside her body.
There was no way to acquire the stone without defeating her.
‘Honestly, I didn’t really want to use this method.’
I passed by Kallio, who was coughing harshly, and Kyrus, still in the pile of objects.
The remaining embers leapt like clapping spectators, scattering in the air.
I stared at the woman, now reduced to ashes.
Yet there was no sympathy or pity in my gaze.
At the end of the story, reality remained, and I had to survive it.
Ssshh.
Where the ashes settled, a blue stone remained.
What had powered the curse inside her body had now come into my hands.
‘The Awakening Stone.’
The stone, still warm, scattered shimmering light like stars around me.
I hesitated for a moment, then, noticing Kallio approaching, swallowed the stone.
Whoaah!
It felt like my insides were filled with fire.
The heat shaking my inner body made me collapse on the spot.
It was as if my space and the surrounding space were separated.
‘What’s happening?’
In the wind-blown space, something strange began to occur.
Hundreds of sheets of paper, densely written with text, flew toward me.
The papers swirled like a storm, tugging my limbs in every direction.
When I tried to push them aside with my arms, other papers whispered at me.
I felt the danger that even a slight loss of balance could be fatal.
‘If I fail to control this magic, won’t it crush me instead?’
So I kept thinking.
The power of the Awakening Stone must be to materialize stories into reality.
That’s why the woman could cast magic themed on ‘story.’
To use this power, you need a stage, script, and actors, as written in the previous owner’s diary.
Setting that up was now the responsibility of the new owner of the Awakening Stone, the creator—me.
‘Honestly, I can’t be sure this will succeed.’
But I would try everything possible to survive.
The stage was the Amir Empire.
The actor was Emperor Kallio of the Amir Empire.
The story for the script began with this sentence:
“Emperor Kallio Rashid Mahgar… ceased his killings for pleasure.”
The papers swirling around me suddenly froze.
The scattered sheets, like lost sheep, aligned neatly into a single page.
Shortly after, the long page began displaying the words I had spoken.
But before the sentence ended, the context broke, and another sentence overlapped.
[Insufficient causality.]
Damn. Since it’s a ‘story,’ the sequence must be coherent?
Before the papers wrapped around me again, I quickly thought of the next sentence.
“Many women who lost their children to the Mahgar royal family sought to curse Kallio, even as ghosts.”
If I failed to make this magic work, I’d die anyway, so my creative drive surged.
“But as the woman’s life ended, she passed her karma to another woman. That karma became a curse to halt Emperor Kallio’s meaningless slaughter.”
That seemed like a reasonable development.
“If Kallio tried to kill for pleasure or interest, the arrow of death would instead strike him.”
Hope this works!
‘Otherwise, I’m going to die by his hand!’
I glared at the papers with bloodshot eyes.
The rippling sheets faintly overlaid words and sentences.
[Please set the title.]
Did it pass?
But the title? What should it be?
Thinking quickly, I shouted:
“T-the Title. One Night of the Woman’s Curse.”
Rushing the title, it sounded like another adult short story, but… as long as it worked, that was enough.
The papers shook violently and recorded my words.
Finally, one long sheet was fully filled.
[Approved.]
[Publishing authorized.]
Immediately, the shimmering papers disappeared.
I was still half-collapsed on the tomb floor.
I had returned to the original space.
‘Could this really be the end?’
Before I could panic, Kallio, who had been quietly watching me, appeared in my view.
Our eyes met, and Kallio’s gaze glinted coldly, like a blade.
He strode toward me and grabbed my chin, yanking me up like he was snatching prey.
