Who Told Me I Like Playing With Little Boys

Looking at the elegant and opulent stranger before him, Ian felt an unavoidable sense of tension.

Although he possessed the talent to enter the Blurry Realm, he had only ever encountered two people in this world.

The lady before him was the third.

This was the world of the dead.

Who knew what kind of status or past this lady possessed?

"Who are you?"

Ian quietly braced himself, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Faced with Ian's inquiry, the young woman arched a brow slightly.

"That poor girl has gone off with your wanderer friend to search for a ridiculous golden apple. As if such a place could ever hold a golden apple."

Her words were laced with clear mockery.

A wanderer friend?

Ian thought it over and immediately understood; the person the mysterious young woman spoke of must be his other friend. Like Ariana, this friend was a wandering soul.

Pendro Natger.

It was a very ordinary name for a boy filled with a passion for adventure, which was likely why the mysterious young woman before him called him a "wanderer."

Even within the Blurry Realm, Pendro had tirelessly explored this world for many, many years. In his own words, he had long since lost track of time.

Yet, for a soul who had lived for at least a thousand years, his face miraculously remained that of a fifteen-year-old. Perhaps that was the wonder of the Blurry Realm. According to Ariana, who was also in this world, Pendro had possessed that same youthful face when she first met him.

He wondered if Pendro had somehow offended the mysterious lady before him.

Did they have a history?

What kind of history?

Ian's gossiping heart could not be suppressed.

He didn't know much about Pendro Natger; his impression of this friend was that he possessed the wisdom of an elder combined with the spirit of a youth.

Occasionally, he was even a bit foolish.

He figured he couldn't be a character from the original story, as Ian had never heard the name before, neither in history nor in his knowledge of the source material.

He wondered what kind of obsession could keep Pendro Natger in this Blurry Realm for so many years.

And an adventure like "searching for a golden apple" certainly sounded like something Pendro would do, and dragging Ariana along as a partner was just his style.

Ian recalled when Pendro had once dragged his five-year-old self along, excitedly declaring they were going to find Herpo the Foul, the most notorious dark wizard in the wizarding world.

Me?

Five years old?

Fighting Herpo the Foul?

Whenever Ian thought back on that past, he still found it absurd.

"This golden apple—is it the one from the fairy tales I know?"

Looking at the elegant young woman in the black gown, Ian tried to keep his demeanor as humble as possible, attempting to use his youthful advantage to put on an innocent expression.

"A flashy, useless thing. Do you really expect a golden apple tree to bloom in this world?" The noblewoman continued to mock him, looking at Ian as if he were an idiot.

"I chopped down the last apple tree when I was still alive, let alone the fact that the Blurry Realm could never have golden apples." The woman's tone was absolute.

"Do golden apples exist in the real world?"

Ian was somewhat stunned.

At that moment, the mysterious young woman turned her head, her stunning face suddenly drawing close to Ian's as she took two steps forward. A scent of roses washed over him.

Ian hurriedly stepped back.

Whether it was her aura or something else, the mysterious young woman was simply too oppressive.

"What do you think a fairy tale is? Do wizards count?"

Once those words were spoken, Ian was left completely speechless.

Looking at Ian before her, the mysterious young woman suddenly laughed.

"Although you are indeed a fool, as dull as a little pig, you are the one who is different." She raised a fair finger and pointed toward the castle looming faintly in the distant mountains.

"If you wish to learn magic, go there and find me."

Ian followed the direction of her finger and saw the castle, its exterior eroded by time, appearing ancient and eerie. He was suddenly struck by a realization.

So, this woman was the witch from the castle that Ariana often mentioned!

As expected.

The urge to run away wasn't cowardice! It was simply the instinct of a wizard! Yes! That was it... It must be the innate sensory ability of a powerful wizard!

"What do I need to pay?"

Ian scrambled to justify himself in his mind. Facing the invitation extended by the mysterious witch, he remained cautious; after all, there was no such thing as a free lunch in this world.

"Hmm?"

The witch looked at Ian with a surprised expression. She even began to pace, circling around him, letting her long black robe glide across the muddy ground.

Yet, not a speck of filth touched it.

"It seems you still don't know just how special you are..."

The witch let out a scoff.

Immediately after.

Her expression shifted again.

"Of course, for someone of your young age to already understand the rules of the wizarding world shows that your dullness is only temporary, which isn't a bad thing in the current world."

The witch stopped in her tracks and looked into Ian's eyes.

"If you truly wish to follow the principle of equivalent exchange, then bring my magic mirror back to me."

After she finished speaking, Ian saw a flicker of nostalgia in her beautiful eyes, but her tone quickly returned to cold indifference.

That trace of longing vanished without a trace.

"Find my mirror and bring it to me... and you shall learn the most powerful magic from me."

"A mirror?"

Ian frowned, feeling somewhat puzzled.

The witch did not respond, merely revealing a smile full of hidden meaning.

"Actually, even if you don't find the mirror, you can still come to me to learn." She smiled in a somewhat mysterious way, though it was unclear if she was intentionally trying to scare Ian.

"After all, I do enjoy toying with little boys."

The words were tinged with a hint of malice.

The moment the witch's voice faded.

Ian felt his time was up. His final view was of the graceful and luxurious witch, watching silently as he slowly turned transparent and vanished.

Once the sounds of their conversation were lost.

The entire town fell back into silence.

The witch's expression slowly turned desolate. She turned around, her high heels clicking against the cobblestone path as she walked into the quiet forest and returned to the front of her castle.

The castle stood in a clearing within the forest. Vines coiled around the high walls built of bluestone, the masonry marked by the weathering of time, with sharp spires piercing the overcast sky.

The weather here.

Was the complete opposite of the town.

It was gloomy and heavy, yet, upon pushing open the heavy doors and stepping inside, one would see the magnificent scene within the castle—in the center of the spacious hall stood a carved marble table draped in a bright red silk tablecloth, scattered with gold-rimmed tableware, while the roaring fire in the fireplace cast shadows of the exquisite murals upon the walls.

The story of the knight and the princess in the paintings seemed to come alive in the firelight.

The witch moved with elegant steps. From the moment she entered the castle, everything around her began to work automatically.

Candles lit up one by one, the tablecloth flew through the air to land on the table, spreading itself out perfectly, tableware arranged itself neatly, and all sorts of food floated out from the kitchen, placed on plates, and flew neatly onto the dining table.

Among them was a small suckling pig, roasted to a golden, glistening finish.

The witch merely glanced at it. Silent before, she suddenly murmured, "I've already seen one stupid pig today; I don't want to see another."

With that, the suckling pig flew back to the kitchen, and soon, a small lamb flew onto the dining table in the same manner.

The clothes on the witch's body shimmered with invisible magical starlight, becoming impeccably neat and clean. She did not eat, but instead walked slowly into her bedroom.

"Magic mirror, magic mirror, who is the most beautiful woman in the world..."

In the empty room, the witch seemed to be talking to herself. She sat before the vanity that lacked a mirror, whispering in a voice that sounded slightly self-deprecating and complex.