To His Hell and Back
Chapter 294: It’s A Witch-I

Chapter 294: It’s A Witch-I

Lastor suddenly went quiet and she could see how at that moment he seemed fearful, as though he had just seen something he wishes wasn’t true but knew no matter how much he hope for it, the truth cannot be denied. He fiddled with his hands and counted the dusts on the floor, "I don’t know any other witches. However she used to tell me that there were other witches in Versailles."

Arabella studied his face and broke a smile, "Other witches," she whispered. "But all this time they were keeping quiet, living amongst the humans, even when they have heard about the potion that could turn vampires into remnants?"

Lastor nodded briefly, "Though I have never seen other witches, I heard that most of them tend to be fickle. They have their own goals and they never liked bothering other witches’ business as they are all quite territorial."

"I see," she hummed while tapping the table, "Means that even if they knew who was behind the potion, they won’t try to stop it."

That moment of confirmation was brief, almost subtle, but Arabella saw it.

The flicker in his golden eyes, the too-measured pause in his breath, the way his lips didn’t curl naturally when he nodded. All small things. But enough.

Lastor had lied.

He hadn’t told her everything about the potion. That much was clear. Whether it was about the cost, the caster, or its true purpose, she couldn’t tell. But she saw it in him, the lie nestled carefully between truth, like a wolf in sheep’s skin.

Still, she didn’t call him out.

Not because she trusted him. Trust was something Arabella had learned to ration carefully, like blood in a drought. No, she kept silent because liars tend to reveal more when they believe they’ve fooled you. And Lastor... Lastor knew too much to be discarded so easily.

Her thoughts spiraled inward like a quiet storm. People tell the truth when they think lying would cost them something. But people lie most when they think you’re not paying attention.

So she smiled.

A soft, agreeable smile that masked the gears that worked inside her head like a clockwork. She would keep Lastor close, not as an ally, but as a lantern leading her through the dark, one she would eventually burn if needed.

While piecing everything together, Arabella’s voice cut through the quiet with clarity, each word becoming more certain with realization. "If it is as you said, that witches don’t like to dip their fingers into other witches’ problems, then that means..."

She paused, the final threads of the puzzle pulling together in her mind.

"All this time... we haven’t been fighting against Morpheus," she said slowly, her green eyes narrowing as the weight of truth settled, "we’ve been fighting alongside a witch who’s allied herself with him."

"Pardon?" Lastor shook his head, "It is true that Morpheus had walked away from the first witch but I have never seen someone who had walked out of a coven to serve another witch after that."

"You have never seen it, but it’s not impossible," answered Arabella, noticing what was off. "He served the first witch but to work together with the witch who has been behind all of this, he doesn’t have to serve her. He simply need to be in a level of a partner. A partner for crime that is."

Lastor’s lips pursed, "No.. that can’t be."

But Arabella was more certain now than ever.

She sat, her fingers unmoving over the notes she had scribbled in haste, and in her stillness, her mind unraveled the twisted knots of events, each thread clearer now than it had ever been.

The potion. The one that turned humans and vampires alike into Remnants.

Everyone believed it had come from Morpheus and his followers. And perhaps that was true in part. But the source, the true start of all the chaos, was never fully confirmed. They had all assumed the outbreak began after the vampires migrated to Versailles... but what if that assumption had been a carefully laid lie?

What if they were wrong?

What if the potion wasn’t designed to destroy the vampires?

What if it was created before the vampire court ever arrived, crafted not as a plague against them, but as a weapon against humans?

A weapon... to punish the old human king.

Arabella’s heartbeat picked up. Yes— yes, this made far more sense. The timing, the target, the secrecy. The potion had been in circulation before Morpheus’s open rebellion. Before the first Remnant even appeared. Before the king’s mysterious downfall.

But there was one problem with the theory that Morpheus was behind it alone: Morpheus and the other sorcerers couldn’t step foot into the castle. But back then didn’t he need information? Informations from the castle itself. He didn’t like humans and he would never consider working together with vampires. So he needed a partner... a trustful partner who knew about sorcerers and magics, and ways to destroy the kingdom from inside for good.

Not his own people as the curse bound all sorcerers under Morpheus to never step into the castle... So how could the informant have entered the court? Unless...

Unless someone already inside had made it possible.

Unless there was someone else.

Someone with a gift for potions. Someone not bound by the curse placed upon Morpheus and his kind. Someone fickle enough to play both sides of a war. Someone with the power of a witch.

A witch who had helped Morpheus brew the potion. A witch who had tested it on humans, her own test subjects, before handing it off to the vampires in Versailles.

Arabella’s hands tightened around the parchment. Her breath slowed. The weight of the truth pressed against her chest like an unseen hand.

Not Morpheus.

Not entirely.

This began with a witch.

And the real war... hadn’t even started yet.

"Your Highness?" Lastor asked, "You look pale..."

"I was just thinking of something impossible," she muttered, not saying the entire truth as she could’t tell whether Lastor was really someone who is on their side or perhaps... someone on that witch’s side. "The way to break that magic on the King, do you know any?"