Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 56
Reluctantly, Hansel stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, carefully embracing his massive frame as if it were a giant tree trunk. Only then did he place his arms around her shoulders.
Normally, he would let go after a few seconds, but today, the hug lingered.
His scent was, as always, sweet. Even in a house filled with the sugary aroma of gingerbread, his unique fragrance stood out. It was almost dizzyingly sweet, yet not unpleasant. It had an oddly addictive quality.
“I’ll leave some food in the dining room,” he said, his voice brushing against her crown.
Startled, Hansel blinked up at him, then tilted her head to rest her chin against his chest.
“Are you going out? For what…?”
What business could Dante possibly have outside the house? Normally, he showed no interest in the world beyond the gingerbread fence surrounding the garden. His daily routine, repetitive and complaint-free, resembled that of a devoted monk.
If Dante was leaving the house, then…
Was it to kill a mage?
Hansel swallowed the question that had risen to her throat. The memory of their first meeting—when the sweet scent had mingled with the sharp tang of blood—was still vivid in her mind.
Would she be able to welcome Dante back as easily if he returned after killing someone? Even just discussing such a thing had left her hesitant.
“Who are you going to meet? I mean… for what purpose?” she asked cautiously.
Dante stared at her for a moment before answering.
“Just someone I know.”
“Someone you know? You actually have someone you know? Well, I guess you would… sure.”
She almost voiced her honest surprise.
At least the phrase ‘someone I know’ was more comforting than ‘a mage’. A faint sense of relief washed over her before curiosity took its place. Didn’t Dante say he killed any mage who entered the forest? And this house was deep within the northern woods—not a place easily accessible to ordinary people.
“If you’re going out of your way to meet them, they must be a close friend?” Hansel probed.
Dante frowned slightly, his nose wrinkling.
“He’s not a friend.”
“Then what is he?”
“Not a person.”
Hansel narrowed her eyes, trying to decode his succinct phrasing. She filtered his words through her own logic, piecing together fragments until a plausible explanation took shape.
“So, you’re going to meet one of the non-human creatures living in your forest?”
Her thoughts turned to the northern woods.
Since the northern forest had been tacitly agreed upon as the Gingerbread Witch’s territory, mages rarely set foot in it. Dante’s claim that he killed intruders who threatened the forest also meant that ordinary soldiers wouldn’t dare enter.
With human presence scarce, the forest had naturally become a haven for non-human creatures—werewolves, fae, and the like. It was a pocket of untamed wilderness, untouched by the march of civilization.
Now that she thought about it, Dante often referred to himself as the forest’s master. Perhaps the other creatures simply didn’t care about titles, or maybe Dante’s strength was so overwhelming that they all acknowledged his dominance.
“So, as the master of this forest, are you going to handle some kind of issue for him? Like… community management? You know, solving complaints and such? That’s what leaders are supposed to do, right?”
“No. I’m going to kill him.”
“……”
Her breath caught. Just hearing the word ‘kill’ from Dante’s mouth made her heart sink. The chilling aftereffects of their earlier conversation in the kitchen hadn’t yet worn off.
Fear froze Hansel’s thoughts for a moment, but soon her mind began to race. Dante had said he killed mages—humans—so she had assumed non-humans wouldn’t be targets. Apparently, she was wrong.
“Who is it you’re meeting? Wait, you said you protect what’s yours. If they live in your forest, why would you kill him? What’s the standard here?”
Suddenly, she found herself wishing the target were a mage. At least that would make sense—they were intruders. But if Dante killed even those who belonged to him, then earning his favor was meaningless.
If being ‘his’ didn’t guarantee safety, it was clear she needed to escape as soon as possible.
“He needs to be punished. He did something wrong.”
