Ethan panicked on the inside as his vision prompts went haywire. Why was the Grimorium Lustra attacking his system? Did Beatrix's blood trigger its hidden magic?
The reaction confirmed his nagging suspicion that the journal's author, Cassandra, was none other than the most powerful witch in the world, Cassandra Galore. Or at least, someone similarly named in her bloodline.
If so, was the book trying to revive its dark owner? If the infamous witch actually wrote the grimoire, then she definitely killed a man through sexual exploitation. Should Ethan be a party to such a maniac's resurrection?
Moreover, the entire process was happening inside his body. Would the boy survive the battle between his system and the Grimorium Lustra?
On the outside, Ethan shifted uncomfortably on his horse. "Are you okay back there?" Beatrice asked, realizing he was rubbing up against her. "If I am too much of a burden, I can change horses and ride with someone else."
"It's okay… A bug crawled up my pants, and I'm trying to kill it."
The witch giggled and shook her head disapprovingly. "I hope that is not a metaphor. Just because I let you sniff my hair doesn't mean you can squash your bug against me."
Typically, Ethan would find the double entendre exciting and perhaps engage in a flirty conversation. However, his body and mind were currently a battlefield for two powerful, opposing forces.
"Message received," the boy replied. "By the way, can I ask you a few questions about grimoire magic? I am intrigued by the field."
"Um, I don't mind," the witch replied, disheartened that the flirty back and forth did not happen. About the intrusive question—the Cromwell heir had openly defended her against the elves and humans, and even protected her from ridicule. If anybody deserved to pry into her favorite subject, it was him.
Ethan tried to frame his question so it may appear harmless. "Let's say a random witch successfully finished writing a grimoire and activated it by draining a fertile man to death. What comes next?"
Beatrix shrugged nonchalantly. "Well… she dies of old age, or a natural or accidental death as she is supposed to. However, the moment the spirit escapes her body, it enters the grimoire and remains trapped. Thus, the spirit is again anchored to the mortal world."
The Cromwell heir raised his brows in fascination. He needed to know how immortality was achieved in Promiscua. "Where does the book go now that its author is no longer in her body?"
"Typically, a witch practicing grimoire magic makes suitable arrangements to pass her journal on to the right people—her descendants or pupils. She also pre-determines a decade or century when the resurrection ritual will be carried out."
Ethan nodded. "I see. What ingredients are needed for the ritual?"
Beatrix half-turned to cast him a sideways glance. "Those are magic secrets, Count Cromwell. I can't answer your question casually."
"Fine! Can you tell me whether Cassandra Galore fixed a date for her resurrection? If so, did anybody try to bring her back?"
The little witch raised an eyebrow, wondering why the Cromwell heir was needling into her ancestor's matters. "I wouldn't know anything about it. Cassandra existed hundreds of years ago. Don't ask me! I don't even know who my mother is!"
"What? I don't understand. Regardless of being raised in an orphanage, you are a member of the Galore coven, right?"
Ethan had researched Beatrix's background. Covens were like witch clubs whose members were typically blood—or marriage-related. The Galore coven was quite wealthy and influential. They produced the most powerful witches in the world and had the Crown as a patron.
Beatrix fidgeted on the horse and chuckled bitterly. "I call myself a Galore, but I don't legally belong to that family. My mother likely dropped me off in an orphanage when I was an infant. I was never baptized and inducted into the coven."
The Cromwell heir nodded. "Hmm. I was confused about why someone from the Galore family was broke and homeless. Your answer explains it all. Anyway, how did you discover you belong to Cassandra Galore's bloodline?"
Beatrix placed a hand on her bust lightly. "There's a permanent birthmark on my skin."
Ethan, realizing the mark was between her breasts, fought an urge to say, "Can I see it?" Instead, he raised his brows in feigned intrigue. "Everyone from the coven has the same mark?"
The witch shook her head and laughed aloud. "No, silly! Only those from Cassandra's direct bloodline possess it. Apart from me, only one other witch in Promiscua has it—Amelia, the head of the Galore coven. Her followers called her Mother Amelia."
"Oh? Doesn't that make you special? You should be a princess or something."
The little witch bit her lip in consternation. "Amelia rejected my claim to Cassandra's bloodline, calling my birthmark fake. It was her word against mine. Who would believe an orphan over the head of the most powerful witch coven in the world?"
Ethan patiently listened to Beatrix's answers. She appeared to have a lot of backstory. Once you got her comfortable, the girl was quite talkative and honest. The Cromwell heir had a few queries he wanted addressed.
"What do you think about the Alaric and Lucifer mythology? I could not digest why the chosen one would force himself on his nemesis. Wasn't he supposed to be the epitome of virtue?"
Beatrix scoffed aloud. "Forced himself on her, huh? That story is hogwash cooked and propagated by the Crown for centuries!"
The Cromwell heir looked confused. "Is there another version of the story? My mother believes that's what happened."
"You are indeed new to Promiscuan politics, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question and did not need to be answered.
Velma had informed Beatrix how Ethan was homeschooled and knew little about the outside world. However, the little witch was genuinely surprised to find the boy intelligent and intuitive. It was as if he was hiding his true abilities.
Beatrix rolled her eyes. "Fine! Here's your first lesson about the real world you missed all these years. Tell me… Who suffers more in Promiscua? Men or women?"
Ethan considered the question for a moment. "I would assume men suffer more."
"Why do you think so?"
"Because they are born weak and can't do much to uplift their life. Only the fertile ones are considered of value to society."
The beauty shook her head. "That is absolutely wrong. Aren't most of the nobles in Fondel County male, and many of them are infertile? Try again!"
Ethan gripped the reins tightly, thinking hard. "I guess those born into power and those with the right opportunities do well in Promiscua. The others fail or live ordinary lives full of suffering."
Beatrix nodded with an impressed smile. "Exactly! Fondel is a rural county. You should go to the cities sometime and see how tough life really is."
The Cromwell heir wasn't really in the mood for a lecture from a broke witch. "What does this have to do with Lucifer and Alaric?"
"You tell me… If Alaric was accused of rape and blamed for the Chaste Devil's curse, who would gain from it?"
"Lucifer?"
"Yes! To this date, there are secret outfits in Promiscua, living in the underworld, waiting for their mistress' kingdom to arrive."
Ethan pursed his lips in confusion. "I still don't understand why the Crown would push this story. What do they stand to gain?"
"Power. As you already know, the Barclay royal family rules Promiscua. Edmund Barclay, the founder of the post-war empire, was one of the leaders of the resistance. With Alaric dead, he defiled the hero's legacy with lies."
"Don't listen to the deceptive witch, Young Count!" Greta exclaimed from the vanguard. "She'll fill your head with conspiracy theories."
"Homeless people like her have nothing more to do than defame the Barclay Empire. Please don't forget the Cromwell family rules Fondel under their authority."
"I'll ask for your opinion when I need it, Commander!" Ethan chided the Elf, making her turn silent. He turned towards Beatrix. "Finish the story and make it quick."
The little witch nodded. "The Crown pushes the narrative that Alaric forcing himself on Lucifer created the Chaste Devil's curse. However, they leave out an important part of the story—the chosen hero, Alaric, and the powerful witch, Cassandra, were lovers!"