The Devil's Cursed Witch

Draven sighed and stood up. Her wary gaze continued to follow his body as he walked towards a certain statue. It was the statue where a snowy white owl perched on it.

“What do you think? Shall we let her be or shall we take her back?”

The owl tilted his fluffy head, blinking his big eyes in the direction of the human girl as if sizing her up, and let out a hoot in response.

Draven looked at the girl who was still on the ground. “He decided for you. Don’t blame me.”

Before she could understand the meaning of his words, the human girl felt an invisible yet heavy force restrict her limbs, binding her entire body like a rope. She started to struggle and kick her legs about, only to realize she could not feel the ground under her. She was floating helplessly in midair.

“Ahhh—mmf!”

Her startled scream was cut off midway. Obviously, he used his power to shut her mouth. Fear and anger could be seen in her eyes as she tried to break away from the binding made of his powers.

“Since you refuse to speak, I am giving you an excuse to not speak.” As if he did nothing wrong, Draven looked at his owl. “Is this enough punishment?”

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The owl looked at the human girl floating in the air and made a hoot that sounded like an approval.

Draven didn’t even look at her again as he walked back towards the palace at a leisurely pace, with the strange sight of a human girl floating in the air behind him. She looked pitiful, squirming as she tried to protest to her captor, but not only was she not able to break whatever was restraining her, the man who caught her seemed to have forgotten her existence.

After accepting that resistance was futile, she sadly resigned to her fate.

Not long after, she found herself carelessly dropped on top of her bed. They were back inside the palace, inside the guest room temporarily given to her.

Only then did Draven release her from his powers.

Without looking back at her glaring form, he stepped out of the room and used his powers to wake up the two elf servants lying unconscious on the floor.

The servants were scared witless to open their eyes and find the King glaring down at them.

“Y-Your Majesty?” Realizing what happened, they immediately jumped to their feet and bowed. “Your Majesty, please forgive us! We were incompetent—”

“If she runs away the second time, I will turn you both into blind bats,” Draven warned, “and leave you hanging on a tree upside down for a week.”

“It will never happen again.”

“Thank you for your generosity!”

The ears of the elves drooped as they watched the King walk away, but they were relieved that at least they were not punished for their mistake. Still, they were scared of their bad-tempered king, and their backs were wet with sweat after that encounter.

Draven returned to his bedchamber. If Erlos were present, he would have an incredulous expression, and he would pester his master for the reason why an uncharacteristic smile now graced his handsome face.

His lips were curved into a wicked smile, as if he had thoroughly enjoyed playing some interesting game with a little mouse that wanted to run away from him.

As he relished in his good mood, he flicked his wrist and a black sleeping robe came flying towards his hand. Changing out of his silk bathrobe and into his night robe, he walked in the direction of his bed, ready to retire for the night.

However, when he was about to tie the knot of his robe, he caught sight of his image in the mirror—in particular, the sight of his chest. On the left side of the chest, a strange mark could be seen.

A dragon tattoo.

The head of that black dragon was placed just above his heart, its long body coiled like a serpent, with the tip of its tail ending at the left side of his stomach. That black dragon looked fierce, with its mouth open wide and its tongue out. Its eyes looked ferocious and there was a vertical mark inside the iris, which was in fact a scar over where his heart was located.

His fingers traced over that scar. He could not remember how he got it, but if his dreams are to be trusted, it seemed like he had been once stabbed in his heart.

‘No matter how much I try to recall, I do not know anything beyond the scene in my dreams. I do not even recall how I got this dragon mark on me.

‘How much did I forget? Why did I forget in the first place? Did someone… tamper with my memories?’