Forest Witch?

The girl in the red hood quickly noticed Kas and the others. Curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she smiled and waved to them.

"Hey, are you lost?"

She quickly walked over, her eyes still full of curiosity and liveliness, without the slightest fear of anything strange about Kas and the others.

That was highly unusual.

First was Kas. As the last descendant of the Zagwell Clan, a warrior's blood flowed through his veins. His battle-hardened body was exceptionally burly, and the sunlight streamed past him toward the forest's evening glow, dragging his shadow across the ground like a marble pillar.

His short orange-red hair swayed in the wind like dancing flames, while his frost-blue eyes gave him an especially cold air.

Then there was Morse. Although Ancestor looked rather like a comedian, the cracks covering his skull proved the terrifying battle he had endured before death. Two sparks flickered in his empty eye sockets; if he floated out in the middle of the night, he could scare a living person to death.

Lastly, there was Miss Aowu. She might have been a young woman at heart, but her werewolf appearance was particularly ferocious.

Her roomy leather coat was stretched tight over her refrigerator-like frame, the bulges beneath her sleeves seeming ready to burst her arms free. Her reddish eyes in the evening glow looked as though they could swallow someone whole.

None of these three looked like good people.

"From a certain perspective, I'm not lost... I just can't find a way home." Kas muttered vaguely as he remained where he was, observing the red-hooded girl approaching them.

The girl in the red hood was somewhat strange. Not because she was gathering mushrooms alone in the forest at night, but because of her body.

The Rishiman People had thrived in the Sorrow Mountains for thousands of years. On that cruel land, only the toughest and most tenacious people could survive.

Those who were short and frail had long been eliminated by society in the river of history.

Among the Rishiman People, it was generally hoped that one's spouse would have a tall and healthy body. That way, the children they produced would be more outstanding and have a greater chance of survival.

Generations of genetic selection had made the Rishiman People generally very tall. Even the tribal girls Kas thought had arms thicker than a bear's waist were actually known more for their agility and nimbleness.

But when the girl in the red hood stood before Kas, she was a full two heads shorter than him, likely only around 1.6 meters tall.

Her frame was slender, and her movements showed no obvious traces of combat training. She was like a country girl from America in his impression, singing as she ran into the mountains to gather mushrooms—not for survival, but simply as a pastime.

The girl in the red hood stood before Kas, her body enveloped by his marble-like shadow.

She was greatly surprised. Rising onto her tiptoes, she raised a hand to compare their height difference, her rosy lips parting slightly.

"You're really tall... like the giant in stories who holds up the sky."

"May I ask where this is? And who are you?" Kas asked warily. He did not trust this mysterious girl who had appeared out of nowhere.

"Me?" The smile on the red-hooded girl's face was as warm as sunlight. Smiling sweetly, she narrowed her lovely crescent-shaped eyes.

"I'm Nosa. As for where this is, I don't know either. Ever since Grandma passed away, I haven't seen anyone else in a long time."

"Where is your clan?"

"I don't have a clan. Grandma raised me." Nosa shook her head. Her gaze passed through Kas's shadow and landed on the ferocious werewolf.

A look of amazement appeared on her little face. She was even more surprised than when she saw the giant. "Big sister, you're so beautiful."

Without caring at all about Kas's strange gaze, Nosa briskly walked past the marble giant and came before the werewolf. She set down the wicker basket filled with mushrooms and matsutake, then took the werewolf's claw in her slender hands.

"Even your hands are so pretty. Hehe."

"Aowu~"

She seemed to lack some basic common sense. Upon meeting for the first time, she opened her arms as if embracing family, wrapping them around Miss Aowu's waist and rubbing her cheek against the abdomen covered by the leather coat.

"You smell nice too... Can I call you big sister?"

Nosa raised her head expectantly, looking at Miss Aowu with eyes like flowing amber.

"Aowu~"

Miss Aowu seemed quite unused to Nosa's overly familiar behavior. She raised her hands, yet did not know where to put them.

Several times, she wanted to touch the girl, only to pull back. In the end, her hands remained at her sides.

"Big sister, what's your name?"

"Aowu~"

Kas folded his arms and pondered. In a low voice, he spoke to Ancestor, who had jumped onto his shoulder. "Is she dangerous? I think there's something odd about her."

"Hmm... I can't deny that." Ancestor looked at the red-hooded girl and the werewolf embracing each other, the sparks in his eye sockets swaying as if in thought.

"No clan, raised by her grandmother, and that unusually small body... She may be an abandoned infant adopted by a witch."

Kas nodded. This guess was similar to his own. Witches were strange spellcasters rooted in forests, swamps, and wastelands.

They had no clans and spent their days alongside wild beasts and spirits. They usually appeared as villainous figures in stories Rishiman People used to frighten children into behaving.

In a world without magic or mystery, women living alone in the woods would be regarded as villains from stories. But in the mystery-filled Sorrow Mountains, witches were a group of strange old women with formidable power who were difficult to understand. No one wanted to approach them voluntarily.

They were powerful spellcasters, unlike shamans who communicated with gods and all spirits.

Witches paid more attention to the land and spirits. They could use inconspicuous branches, stones, and animal bones to cast curses or blessings.

And Miss Aowu's transformation into a werewolf was precisely the result of a witch's curse.

As the two discussed whether Nosa posed a threat, Kas's ears suddenly twitched slightly. He heard an extremely faint sound.

Little Red Riding Hood, pressed against the Big Bad Wolf, secretly tilted her head, half-covering her mouth with a hand as she whispered.

"Big sister Seneya, are you saying that big guy with the fierce eyes is your husband?"

Miss Aowu nodded somewhat shyly. The hand that had been at her side now rested on Nosa's red velvet hood.

Seneya... That was a lovely name.

And why could she understand Miss Aowu's howls?

That strange thought surfaced in Kas's mind. At an inappropriate moment, he interrupted the warm interaction between Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

"Nosa, I'm Kas of the Zagwell Clan. For some unknown reason, I came to this forest. Do you know Ferode Canyon, where Her Tribe is located?"

"Ferode Canyon..." Nosa scrunched up her little face and thought for a while before speaking hesitantly.

"I remember it's a very large mountain range, even bigger than this place. But I've never been there."

"All right, but where is this?"

"I don't know either." Nosa stuck out her pink tongue and scratched her head with an embarrassed silly smile.

Seeing Kas's disappointed expression, she immediately added, "But Grandma left behind a map. It will definitely have the clues you need."

Hmm...

That seemed like a good idea. If there was a map, Ancestor, that living fossil, should be able to tell at a glance how they could return to the tribe.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to borrow the map."

"Sure, but the map should be at home. Ever since Grandma passed away, I haven't touched her things in a long time."

"And it's already late today. Why don't you come back with me and rest first?" Nosa happily buried her face in Seneya's chest, greedily breathing in the Werewolf Lady's scent. "Tonight, I'm sleeping with big sister Seneya."