Until a Witch Dies – Meg Raspberry’s One Year Left to Live

“Meg.”

“Yes.”

“I’m heading out for work tonight. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t burn the house down.”

“Yes.”

“You’re just sitting there blankly like an idiot.”

“Yes.”

“Hopeless.”

“Yes.”

Even while having dinner at home, my mind was elsewhere.

The clinking of utensils against plates seemed oddly loud in the quiet room.

Since that day, Master had not mentioned Mary or the demon even once.

She never engages in anything futile or dangerous. That’s just how she is.

And that’s precisely why she isn’t getting involved this time either.

Master must have foreseen the danger with her clairvoyance.

If we did nothing, nothing would happen to us.

Mary and Jill would eventually disappear without us knowing, leaving only mysteries behind.

But that thought alone…

Would gnaw at me forever, leaving behind a pain that would never fade.

Night fell, and Master left.

She mentioned she wouldn’t be back for a few days.

In that case…

I quietly snuck into Master’s study.

Silencing the small animals watching me with curious eyes, I combed through the bookshelves.

“Found it.”

I pulled out an old grimoire on demon worship.

I remembered coming across it once while cleaning.

This book contained forbidden knowledge—rituals, pacts, and the means to contract with demons.

If there was a way to form a contract, then surely there must be a way to break one.

If breaking a contract required sacrifices just as forming one did, then all I had to do was prepare the necessary offerings.

There had to be a way.

The history of witches and demons was long and deep.

In ancient times, contracts were formed at gatherings called Sabbaths.

Back then, Sabbaths were feared as horrifying rituals.

But in today’s world, Sabbaths were nothing like what was described in this book.

Now, they were merely small meetings where local magic users gathered.

Witches and wizards lived in towns, coexisting with their communities.

That’s why they shared information about the land and fluctuations in magical energy.

Demon worship had declined.

Because time and time again, the dark history of bloodshed had repeated itself.

Witches and wizards now lived in harmony with the world.

But in the past, they had been burned at the stake under the law.

Good witches, who lived to help others, were burned alive because of the crimes of evil ones.

This world carried such a tragic past.

Over the years, magic users who abused their power were weeded out.

Discrimination hadn’t disappeared entirely.

But at least, in Lapis, there was no lingering resentment from those old days.

As I flipped through the pages, my eyes landed on a specific passage.

A section detailing the rules of demonic contracts.

It mentioned that contracts required specific ritual sites.

A sacrificial altar must be prepared for the demon’s invocation.

After the contract was sealed, daily prayers were required.

Even offerings had to be made at the same altar where the contract was formed.

“So if I destroy the altar… maybe…”

The ritual was scheduled for the thirteenth of the month.

On that day, the contractor would receive a reward equivalent to their offering.

Today was the eleventh.

I had two days to find the altar.

Early the next morning, I observed Mary’s house from a distance.

Wrapped in the fur of a carbuncle and the feathers of my snowy owl familiar, I kept warm in the cold air.

Then, a figure emerged from Mary’s house.

It was her father, Ted.

Before a demon summoning ritual, the altar must be prayed over for several days.

If Ted showed no suspicious behavior today, then the altar was likely inside their house.

“Let’s go, you two.”

“Hoo.”

“Kyui.”

The snowy owl kept watch from above, while the carbuncle and I tracked Ted from the ground.

It was the perfect plan.

Yes, perfect—

“Ughhh, why… why did it have to turn out like this…”

I groaned as I was squashed inside a packed commuter train.

Ted was a company worker in the city.

By all accounts, he was friendly, diligent, and a devoted family man.

This was the evaluation of those around him.

And every day, he endured this overcrowded train ride.

I could never do it. I had newfound respect for Ted.
Or… maybe Ted was secretly a masochist?

“If that were the case, then I guess I can understand how he tolerates this commute… Guhhh…”

“Gyui…”

From inside my chest pocket, the carbuncle let out a pained whimper.