Chapter 03
That Damned Bastard Came Looking for Them (1)
‘To break the curse, the caster must at least be equal in skill to the one who placed it.’
And who exactly was the Great Witch Shyloi?
A being so perfect that ordinary human mages could never hope to compare.
The greatest among witches.
‘As expected of me— …No, damn it!’
Thanks to the memories of her previous life returning, her mind was overflowing with magical knowledge.
But what was the point of knowledge alone?
“Ha… damn it. Me…! I, who was once the greatest witch…!”
Her current body belonged to a frail noble girl.
A human body—the very kind she had once looked down upon as inferior.
A body that required training and discipline just to control mana and cast magic.
Faced with that cruel reality, Mariella could only cry out in despair.
“How am I supposed to learn magic in this body and reach Shyloi’s level?!”
Even if she were reborn as a witch and spent decades honing her abilities, it still might not be enough.
‘No matter how hard I work… would it even be possible…?’
The same despair that had tormented her for the past month surged up from deep within her chest once more.
But Mariella quickly shook her head.
‘There’s no other way!’
If she simply gave up now, her father might never wake again.
And that wasn’t all.
Misfortune in other forms would eventually befall Marsen and Marey as well.
‘If this had been an ordinary family, they would’ve been wiped out long ago. The only reason the Esteban Ducal House endured the Great Witch’s curse for a hundred years is because they were powerful enough to survive it!’
In other words, the House of Esteban didn’t have much time left.
If Mariella wanted to protect the family who had adopted a filthy, pitiful orphan girl and showered her with unconditional love, then there was only one path she could take.
She had to claw her way up through sheer effort and become a grand mage equal to the Great Witch herself.
‘For an ordinary human, it would be impossible even if the heavens split apart…’
But she was different.
She had already stood at the pinnacle once before.
She possessed all the knowledge, instincts, and understanding necessary to reach that height again.
‘I can do it. No— I’m the only person in this world who can.’
After regaining the memories of her previous life, she could even recognize the Witch Tongue.
That alone proved this body possessed at least some talent for magic.
Mariella clenched her fist tightly.
‘First, I’ll make simple magic potions to increase my mana affinity as much as possible. Then I’ll strengthen and expand my mana vessel.’
If the body’s efficiency improved, learning magic would become far easier and faster.
…Though, now that she thought about it, there was one tiny problem with that plan.
‘Even simple magic potions cost a fortune to make.’
What had those human mages used to say again?
Magic was a field only accessible to those born with both talent and money.
‘To think the day would come when I’d personally experience their suffering.’
Maybe that was why people said life was long enough for anything to happen.
If Herace—the white dragon she once kept as a familiar—saw her like this, he’d probably sneer at her with that insufferably arrogant face of his.
‘…It’s fine. Calm down.’
Who was she?
‘I was a witch blessed not only with overwhelming magical talent, but also with an exceptional mind. Of course I know ways to make money.’
Still, before she could solve the problem of finances, Mariella had to deal with another headache entirely.
The Esteban Ducal House of the Adrian Empire.
Though its former glory was crumbling like a sandcastle before the wind, the weight carried by the family name had not disappeared.
Which meant there were countless hyenas drooling at the sight of the young head of the household, Marsen.
Among them, two people stood out the most.
The first was Count Edwin Richto, younger brother of the previous duke—and Marsen’s uncle.
Unlike the former duke, who had been praised throughout society as a benevolent man, Edwin was known as a meticulous and cold individual.
The count firmly believed that he alone possessed the ability to restore the declining ducal house.
Even after receiving the fertile Richto territory when he branched off from the main family, he had never been satisfied.
The fact that he had failed to inherit the title of duke remained the greatest resentment of his life.
Naturally, he could never accept Marsen becoming the new master of the house simply because he happened to be the eldest son—just like Edwin’s older brother before him.
The second was Marchioness Terso, the older sister of the previous duke and Marsen’s aunt by blood.
The Terso Marchionate had defected from the Kingdom of Lyusel roughly thirty years ago, meaning they still hadn’t fully integrated into imperial high society.
To compensate for that weakness, they had married a daughter of the Esteban Ducal House into their family for the sake of prestige.
And now that an unexpected opportunity had appeared, their greed had only grown larger.
Inside one of the few rooms in the ducal castle still carefully maintained despite the shortage of servants, a middle-aged man and woman were loudly cornering a young man.
“Why won’t you sign it?!”
“According to the imperial law Uncle loves so much, I became an adult years ago. I possess both a sound body and a functioning mind capable of making my own decisions, so why would I need a guardian? Must I really explain something so obvious?”
“My, my. Edwin, you really do treat Marsen like a child. He’s grown into such a fine young man already—he’s at the age to marry.”
Though the marchioness scolded Count Richto, Marsen didn’t feel even slightly grateful for her attitude.
“A man only becomes a true adult once he marries and starts a family. Frankly, Edward and the late duchess neglected your marriage prospects for far too long.”
While Count Richto aggressively shoved guardianship documents toward Marsen, the Marchioness Terso instead presented portraits of beautiful young noblewomen.
“Sadly, the ducal house no longer carries the prestige it once did, so recommending daughters from the highest-ranking families would be difficult. Still, I selected girls with decent looks and education.”
All of them were daughters of barons or viscounts strongly tied to House Terso.
Her intentions were painfully obvious.
She wanted to install a puppet duchess loyal to the Terso family and interfere in the affairs of the ducal house.
“Have you lost your mind, Sister?! You’d sell off the ducal house to the Terso family?!”
Count Richto glared at her through gritted teeth.
“What nonsense! You’re the one still unable to accept Father’s decision, bullying your own nephew like this!”
The marchioness shot back with an equally disgusted expression.
“Please, both of you, calm yourselves.”
Ironically, the one who should have been the most exhausted by the situation—Marsen himself—appeared the calmest.
“We’ve repeated this exact conversation five times already, but I have no intention of appointing a guardian or marrying anytime soon.”
“It’s not for you—it’s for the ducal house!”
“And if the house falls even further, do you think any of those girls you introduced today would so much as glance at you?”
“My father will awaken soon enough, and my younger siblings are already grown. There’s no urgent succession issue, Aunt.”
“Oh my. I must have heard something strange just now. Only one of your siblings actually carries the blood of the ducal house, does she not?”
For the first time, Count Richto nodded in agreement with the marchioness.
Marsen’s gaze instantly turned cold, but she continued without hesitation.
“Besides, once a woman marries, she belongs to her husband’s family. Your marriage may be overdue, but shouldn’t we also begin looking for a fiancé for Mariella? Fortunately, the girl’s face is at least fairly pleasing to look at—”
“I have no desire to continue this pointless argument late into the night. Please leave.”
Even the polite smile vanished from Marsen’s lips as he cut her off coldly and issued a clear order of dismissal.
Watching Count Richto and Marchioness Terso leave the castle with obvious dissatisfaction, Marey ground his teeth.
“Why do you keep letting those people come and go from the castle like they own the place?!”
Mariella looked at him as though he were hopelessly foolish.
“They may be annoying Eldest Brother, but they aren’t openly threatening him, are they?”
“So?”
“If Eldest Brother throws them out under such ambiguous circumstances, then we’ll be the ones accused of being disrespectful and mistreating our elders!”
“Wow. Our precious youngest sibling and older brother are both sooo thoughtful.”
“The best outcome would be for them to rediscover their conscience and stop coming here altogether.”
“If they were capable of that, they wouldn’t act like this in the first place. Honestly, they should get cursed every time they step foot in here. That’d make them stop visiting.”
“…A curse?”
That was it.
Mariella suddenly threw her arms around Marey in excitement.
“So even a dung beetle rolling around in dirt can have a brilliant idea! I always thought your brain was made entirely of muscle, Brother, but hearing something useful come out of your mouth is truly moving!”
“What?! You little—! And what happened to all those refined manners you were supposed to learn?! You’ve done nothing but master insults!”
Like a cow stumbling backward and accidentally catching a mouse, Marey had unknowingly given Mariella the perfect clue for driving away the two unwelcome guests.
