Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 59
Even Charlie instinctively stepped back upon seeing the scene. He knew what this terrifying sight meant but had never witnessed it with his own eyes.
Magic backlash.
This was one of the key reasons why great mages strove to absorb talented children into school systems to learn magic. Magic was a precious gift, but if one had abundant magic without control, it was like handing a sharp, pointed knife to a three-year-old child who was unaware of the power in their hands, making it more likely to cause harm before they realized what it meant.
Once these gifted individuals entered school, they also learned from books about another behavior that could lead to magic backlash—forcefully exploring forbidden magic.
Many mages, unwilling to be controlled by the kingdom and the church, were labeled witches or warlocks for this reason. The Mages Association classified magic very meticulously and strictly limited the range of magic that students could access according to their magic levels.
This wasn’t only because truly powerful and treasured magic must be kept in the hands of royalty, but also because attempting magic beyond one’s level could likely cause magic backlash.
At the Monterey Academy’s library, the first five pages of nearly every book on the magic classification shelves contained warnings about these taboos, printed with various bizarre outcomes of losing control: some people grew tentacles and eyes all over their bodies; some melted into a puddle of self-aware flesh that could be put into a jar; others grew skin several times their own surface area. In any case, no one could maintain a normal human appearance, and what was terrifying was they didn’t immediately die but remained temporarily conscious to endure it all. If no one ended their lives, they must continue to exist in an inhuman state, gradually losing memory and sanity over time, becoming a true monster.
The woman before them was clearly the result of a mage’s loss of control years ago. She looked like a faded plaster statue, emitting a smell akin to decay, which might be why the room always had strong incense burning.
Her physical damage was more severe than her mental state, with everything below her neck immobile, but her eyeballs could still crazily whirl around in their sockets, making her appearance nauseating.
“Ha! You ungrateful, lying little beast!” she rasped. “Got what was coming to you?”
She venomously stared at Mistress Daisy, babbling incoherently. “What day is it today? Tidy up my wardrobe. The Count is coming this afternoon. You better sew the pearls on my shoes properly. Don’t think about being lazy, or I’ll have Popo scratch your hands to shreds. You ungrateful, lying little beast, I should have thrown you into the fireplace and turned you into ashes, you dirty, shameless, vile scum—”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper had figured it all out.
Mistress Daisy, just like Alice and Daphne, had once been enslaved by this woman, enduring suffering without freedom.
As a mage (likely an unacknowledged witch), this woman had probably imposed much stricter control and oppression on the castle than Mistress Daisy ever did, to the extent that after she lost control and embedded herself into the wall, Mistress Daisy hadn’t killed her, but let her live in such a state for so long—concealed behind a curtain and strong scent of incense.
This was undoubtedly also a torment for Mistress Daisy, but…
“You once served this mage,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said to Mistress Daisy. “You know what magic she cast on this castle, and you know that even without magic, using that book could still maintain this magic operation.”
That was very likely.
For such a powerful mage, Mistress Daisy and the other servants in the castle were no different from ants in her eyes, and even handing that book of magic to Mistress Daisy wouldn’t work in front of the real master.
If it weren’t for her own magical loss of control, Mistress Daisy would likely still be just an ordinary maid in the castle to this day.
The woman in the wall was already not quite sane. Mistress Daisy looked at her coldly, saying nothing with eyes full of hatred.
Perhaps it was this hatred that made her preserve the woman’s life, wanting to watch her gradually lose her mind and become a crazed, unfree monster—perhaps even more so because the book controlling the castle came from this deranged mage’s hands. Although she was no longer able to manipulate anything, the magic remaining in her body could maximize the effective duration of this magical item.
At that moment, just as things had momentarily calmed down outside, there came a loud knock at the door. It was probably Shiloh who had dealt with the large hound, trying to figure out what exactly was happening in the locked study.
“I originally thought that this evil ball system was also part of your inherited property, but it seems not,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said softly. His usual relaxed and gentle demeanor was gone, and his voice became unusually cold and harsh. “This woman did even more evil things with young girls back then.”
Mistress Daisy looked somewhat surprised. “You’re also a mage?”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper ignored her, walking straight to the woman embedded in the wall, examining her twisted body. “What did she do before she destroyed herself? Or should I say—what magic was she trying to complete that caused her to lose control of her magic?”
“That’s why I say, they’re all ungrateful, lying little beasts,” Mistress Daisy scoffed coldly.
“If they were under this woman’s control, they wouldn’t survive a year. The castle ten years ago isn’t what it is now. No one without a title could step in. Her guests even included several kings who came secretly with their guards, followed by carriages filled with gold and gems.”
Charlie seemed not to have taken in a word, asking again, “What magic was she trying to complete that caused her to lose control?”
Mistress Daisy could tell that the quirky rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s attention was no longer on her at all. She relaxed a bit, disdainfully saying: “She was always conducting strange experiments, making girls drink her potions, then forcing them to become pregnant—”
Charlie’s pupils suddenly constricted.
Mistress Daisy couldn’t see the expression on Charlie’s face, which was turned away from her, and she went on. “She hoped the girls would give birth to something special. I can’t remember. She only mentioned it when she was in a good mood—if it had been successful, she would have become one of the most powerful people across several continents. She put nearly all her energy into it, but the experiment never succeeded. With each failure, she would furiously smash everything in the room until, finally, she could no longer endure it and decided to try it on herself, and then…”
She laughed heartily. “She also failed, self-destructed, and it all ended.”
What did she want to give birth to? The rabbit-headed shopkeeper stared at the former mage’s swollen belly, feeling as if he were standing in the snow, frozen stiff, unable to move.
“What did she want to give birth to?” Charlie heard his own querying voice.
Mistress Daisy sneered, “I don’t know. She never let anyone near her potion chamber. Only kings were worthy of speaking with her alone.” It seemed like many years had passed since she last recalled these events, and she suddenly paused.
“I once brought tea in there,” she suddenly said. “She discussed this matter with a king from some country. She said she needed the ‘Holy Grail’, but all the girls were useless trash…”
Mistress Daisy shut her mouth because the rabbit-headed shopkeeper suddenly turned around, his face expressing something very terrible.
“I understand,” Charlie said coldly, repeating, “I understand.”
That was the true purpose of the mage hiding the castle and setting up a domain spell—not to attempt the forbidden, but to create the forbidden.
The ‘Holy Grail’ she spoke of held the power to control continents but could only be born through a mother.
But humans couldn’t even control the sex of a baby. How could they easily create something with such forbidden power?
As a result, she was punished by God and the natural laws, completely losing control of her magic, and this evil experiment was thus interrupted.
Mistress Daisy, her servant, had always been by her side. Although she had vaguely overheard some information, she didn’t truly understand the significance of her actions because she wasn’t a mage.
Thus, the ignorant Mistress Daisy merely used her inheritance to imitate her methods, repeating the past actions of exploiting girls for wealth, but she didn’t inherit the true pursuit—nor did she have the capability to do so.
But Charlie gleaned more crucial information from Mistress Daisy’s words: that the mage had sought cooperation with a [King], and not just one. This meant that, although this evil magic hadn’t reappeared in this castle, it was very likely that it had already spread out, and various forces had obtained the “experiment notes” of this mage and were attempting to continue exploring, either openly or covertly, to bring forth the “Holy Grail”.
“Give me that book,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said to Mistress Daisy, taking a step towards her. “This castle cannot remain—at least not in this form. She’s dead, but her experiments were very dangerous, and the people who dealt with her are equally dangerous. They are very likely to come knocking again if you keep these magical items.”
“No!” Mistress Daisy screamed. “I would rather burn it than give it to you. Everyone’s name is on it. Everyone has eaten the food of the castle. If this book is destroyed, everyone will die!”
“That’s just a side effect of the domain magic. Like a curse, it can be undone,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said as patiently as possible. “Give me the book. Let me have a look…”
“No one is taking this book away,” Mistress Daisy said, ignoring the shouting outside the door, her eyes flashing with fanatic light. “It’s mine. This castle is mine too. I have given everything. It must repay me. If anyone tries to take all this from me,” she paused, suddenly bending over to pull a burning log from the fireplace towards Charlie. “I’ll kill them!”
Charlie had no choice but to raise his hands. A woman like Mistress Daisy was no match for him in a fight, and rather than worry about the flaming log poking him, he was more concerned about her swinging it around, causing more severe consequences.
“Calm down!” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper warned her loudly. “Your study is full of paper and wood. It’s best not to touch fire.”
But Mistress Daisy wasn’t listening. She held the log as if it were a long sword, filled with power and a face full of unnatural fanatic expression. She seemed somewhat deranged as she waved it towards Charlie. “Get out of my castle!”
Charlie quickly reached out to block it, retreating a few steps. “Don’t do this. Watch the fire!”
He tried to restrain Mistress Daisy as best as he could to protect himself, lest the log in her hand poke into the books on the bookshelf, but the frantic Mistress Daisy swung it a few times, setting the curtains on the wall on fire.
Charlie rushed to try to stomp out the flames but was driven back by Mistress Daisy—where she passed, a few more sparks ignited, and the burning letters were very quick to catch fire, the flames suddenly growing larger, smoke gradually filling the entire study.
“Break down the door!” Charlie shouted loudly without thinking. “It’s on fire inside!”
Columbus and the others had been keeping an eye on the noise in the room, and now, seeing smoke seeping under the door, Shiloh pushed the tin soldiers back and pressed the door panel to test its thickness before starting to kick the door.
“Don’t burn it anymore!” Charlie choked on the smoke. “Throw your book away!”
“No! It’s mine! No one is allowed to take it from me!” Mistress Daisy’s face twisted, as if she had really gone mad—perhaps she had been mad for a long time.
At this time, the woman in the wall started giggling again, shouting at the woman, who paid no heed to her, continuing to laugh and sing a strange song, seemingly pleased to see the room full of flames.
It was unclear how long Mistress Daisy chased Charlie around the cramped study with the burning log, but Shiloh finally kicked the door open. The rush of heat and smoke pushed him back two steps—perhaps the influx of air made the flames even fiercer.
Charlie’s eyes were nearly closed from the smoke, barely making out the door. He took long strides and rushed towards it.
Mistress Daisy, originally chasing him, stopped when she saw the study door open, turning back to look in the direction of the woman in the wall.
“Throw down the book!” Charlie hoarsely shouted at her. “Come this way!”
He shouldn’t have shouted, for it made Mistress Daisy neurotically clutch the large book even tighter. After Charlie left the room, she no longer moved, standing in the center of the study, holding the book. The carpet at her feet had also caught fire.
Dr. Salman, who at some point also arrived, helped Shiloh kick the door open; Shiloh, gasping for breath, pulled Charlie away from the door to prevent him from being scorched by the hot air. “Forget about her. There’s no water on the third floor. This kind of fire can’t be controlled—anyway, this evil woman deserves to die. Let’s close the door and let her go to hell with that magic book.”
Columbus was also righteously indignant. “Shiloh is right! She did so many bad things. She should go to hell!”
The fire in the study was already very large, the smoke making the inside scene blurry. As Columbus squeezed forward, he peeked in to see what that terrible woman looked like.
Mistress Daisy stood on the carpet as her dress also caught fire.
Her hair was disheveled, her expression obsessed, only looking down at the book in her hands with no intention of escaping the room—the fire was too large. She wouldn’t be able to escape in a few minutes.
Dr. Salman saw Columbus trying to approach the door and had to reach out to pull him back to prevent him from getting overheated by the flames, but he couldn’t move him.
The tin soldier stood at the doorway of the study, blankly watching the woman in the flames.
“Balda?” He softly called out a name.
The author has something to say:
“You do have a sister. Do you remember her name?” Charlie asked.
“I do, my little Balda!” Columbus brightened again. “Charlie, I haven’t forgotten her! I remember now. Mom embroidered many little daisies on her apron. Everyone loved her, lovely Balda!”
Chapter 16.
Kinky Thoughts:
That was a connection I did not foresee.
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
Kinky Translations 
oh. 😭
LikeLike