The witch was who you would call a witch.
Wrapped up in a black robe and stirring the contents of her cauldron, cackling "Eeeheehehee!" all the while – she belonged to that category of so-called witches.
A face that was deeply carved with wrinkles. An aged body that was appraised as the hag amongst hags, more hags, and even more hags.
To the side of that witch, the third son of the local feudal lord came along without bringing any companions.
Let's see, the splendid young lord's reason for his "esteemed" consultation is…
※ A series of short episodic stories.
