The scenery inside was strange, like a different world.
Well, if Hans had to compare it to something he’d seen before, the closest would be a forge.
If a well-traveled guide were to look inside this place, they would call it a volcano.
Both impressions were right — and wrong — at the same time.
The fire and heat filling the space were far too intense for a simple forge’s hearth, yet too restrained to be the lava of a volcano.
And right in the middle of it all, standing in stark contrast to this apocalyptic landscape, was a cute young girl wearing a red dress.
Her youthful appearance, mature clothing, and the hellish surroundings combined to create a jarring sense of discord — yet she was, in fact, the master of this workshop.
Amid the flames that moved, danced, writhed, and breathed as though alive, Gretel turned around.
“You.”
Hans braced himself, expecting a scolding.
But surprisingly, Gretel only let out a sigh.
Contrary to his expectations, she didn’t offer any harsh words.
In fact, her attitude toward Hans was rather gentle.
Her words were still sharp and teasing, but considering Gretel’s usual personality, it was almost kind.
“Why that stupid face? Did you think I was going to scold you again?”
“To be honest… yeah.”
Gretel let out a small laugh and walked up to him, giving his shoulder a light pat.
It was a gesture much like a master patting a dog’s head — but still, it was clearly a sign of affection.
Not something you’d expect to receive after making a mistake.
“I told you. I see everything.”
Hans felt a faint rustling from within his coat.
“Ah.”
And then, he understood why Gretel was being so unusually kind.
It seemed she had been watching everything that had happened to him through the doll she’d given him.
Since Gretel was — by witch standards — a fairly reasonable person, she wasn’t the type to blame Hans for things that were clearly beyond his control.
If she had been like the other witches, who punished anything that so much as irritated them without even bothering to understand the situation, the two of them would never have grown this close.
“Sit.”
“…Where?”
“Oh, right.”
Still, she was a witch — and no matter how close they became, a perfect understanding between them was impossible.
In this workshop of roaring flames and wild lava, Hans looked around, confused.
Seeing his bewildered face, Gretel simply snapped her fingers.
The air shifted, flames twisted, and the lava defied its natural flow — cooling and hardening in an instant — until, in the blink of an eye, a perfectly usable chair took shape.
Hans naturally settled onto the hard granite chair.
He still didn’t understand — not the world she saw, nor the mysteries she commanded.
He’d heard a few things in passing — like how she couldn’t control things this delicately outside the workshop — but that was about all he knew.
Gretel, on the other hand, didn’t bother with something as mundane as a chair.
While Hans sat on the hardened stone, she took a seat on the flowing flames.
The angle of the rushing fire adjusted ever so slightly, lifting her eye level just above his — and Hans decided not to point it out.
Once she was comfortably seated, legs crossed and clearly pleased with her position, Gretel gave him a cool, commanding nod.
“Explain yourself.”
“…Wasn’t this a gift?”
“Understanding is one thing — but my losses are still my losses, got it?!”
But of course, that queenly demeanor didn’t last long.
That didn’t mean Gretel’s tantrum was any less terrifying, though.
She might look like a cute young girl — but the flames writhing and twisting wildly behind her were very, very real.
Still, Hans knew one thing for sure: Gretel had seen everything that happened to him through the doll’s eyes.
Which meant her outburst could only mean one thing…”She just wants me to make it up to her.”
Putting it nicely, she just wanted some sweet words.
Putting it not-so-nicely, she wanted me to prove that whatever losses she suffered were worth it.
Not that Gretel was thinking about it in such a complicated way.
Thinking too hard was always the burden of the weaker party.
Luckily, this time I had one sure way to turn things in my favor.
“Gretel. If you’ve been watching me through the doll, then you know.”
“What now?”
As Gretel narrowed her eyes suspiciously, Hans did his best to look as reliable as possible.
“I didn’t lay a finger on Alje.”
That definitely got a reaction.
“Hah? Of course you didn’t. What, you want praise for knowing exactly who you should be wagging your tail for?”
Her words were as haughty as ever, but the corners of her mouth were twitching upward.
Not straying was the absolute bare minimum.
But in the labyrinth, even the simplest things became the hardest — and both of them knew it well.
“Besides, it’s not like you didn’t touch her at all. You two were practically glued together.”
“No, that was – ”and just like that, she went straight for the weak spot.
Hans had expected this kind of teasing, so even though he wasn’t flustered at all, he made sure his voice sounded thoroughly aggrieved.
“That’s not fair! We live under the same roof — of course we’re going to brush against each other sometimes…”
“Oh sure. It always starts with a hand brushing by, then a shoulder bump… and next thing you know, you’re belly to belly, right?”
“It’s not like that!”
To be fair, that was kind of how his relationship with Gretel had started — but Hans denied it firmly.
“Besides, thanks to a certain someone, my sense of beauty’s been completely ruined. Now I can’t be satisfied with anyone else.”
“Oh, please. Do you really think I’m going to fall for that sweet talk? You’re so obvious it hurts.”
Gretel snorted coldly, but Hans knew he hadn’t made a mistake.
Despite her frosty demeanor, the workshop told a different story.
Flames were spreading wildly, pillars of lava were shooting up, and the entire space was turning into complete chaos.
The heat grew more intense by the second.
Even with Gretel making an effort to shield him, Hans could feel his skin starting to sting.
Without her protection, he’d already be a nicely grilled Hans skewer by now.
“…Sure, Alje’s pretty. But Gretel — to me, you’re far more beautiful.”
That was a lie.
Gretel was certainly cute , like a noble’s pampered daughter — but her youthful appearance made it hard for her to exude mature charm.
Alje, on the other hand…?
Though Alje also had a youthful appearance, her body was far from childlike.
In fact, the contrast between her innocent face and her devastating figure made her beauty almost surreal — so much so that it felt less like a blessing and more like an act of violence against those around her.
And Gretel was well aware of that fact.
“Hmph.”
But witches… well, witches were a sad kind.
No matter how powerful they were, they couldn’t help but fall for words of praise about their beauty.
The ability to twist the world and wield arcane mysteries never came without a price.
Saints, who were born with their powers, paid that price upfront by losing their futures — every saint was barren.
So what about witches?
Chosen later in life, they paid their price after the fact.
The world collected its debt in different ways for each witch, but it always took the form of physical changes.
A hunched back, wrinkled skin, warts, hooked noses — those didn’t become symbols of witches for no reason.
“Your mouth sure does run, doesn’t it?”
“Well, it’s not just my mouth that’s alive. Want me to prove it?”
Every witch despised beauty.
Even Gretel — who was relatively better off — was no exception.
A princess is visited by a prince — but for a witch, the only ones who come are bloodied, dirt-covered hunters.
And yet… even if what’s offered isn’t a gleaming golden ring but just a smooth, pretty stone — how could she possibly refuse it?
Peck.
Soft, fleeting kisses brushed back and forth, light as a bird’s wings.
Maybe because it left him wanting more — or maybe because he was trying to prove his bold words — Hans grew more eager, pressing forward like a loyal dog seeking its master’s affection.
Gretel let out a soft laugh, gently pushing him away.
“You’re so impatient. As much as I’d love to, we can’t right now.”
“Why not?”
“I told you — I’m busy.”
Hans didn’t quite recall her saying that, but he nodded anyway.
“Losses… ugh, I’ve got losses to make up for.”
Now that he thought about it, Hans had been to Gretel’s workshop a few times before, but the flames and heat had never been this intense.
And she often sent him on errands.
Usually, it was things like exploring certain areas or fetching rare herbs and monster parts.
Hans knew she spent most of her time holed up in this workshop.
Not that it was unusual.
Most witches were the same — they were so reluctant to leave their lairs that they handled even the smallest tasks through their familiars.
“Losses? Come to think of it, I’ve never really asked.”
It might have been a bit too bold — like a dog daring to question its master — but the mood between them was good right now.
Hans had already proven his loyalty by keeping his hands off Alje, so surely Gretel would forgive him for stepping just a little over the line.
So he asked.
“What exactly do witches do in the labyrinth?”