Save the Blond Boy?

Don’t be ridiculous. The people who die most often in this world are the ones who stick their noses where they don’t belong.

No one knew whether they’d come into contact with something filthy that had driven their behavior beyond the bounds of normal, turning them strange and deranged. If she approached them out of kindness or curiosity, that filth would cling to her too—and make her go mad.

It was like an infectious disease. Almost no one who came into contact with it could escape.

The strange tales in this world were terrifying.

To stay alive, Sherry never listened to other people’s bizarre experiences. No matter how curious she was, the threat of death always made her back off.

After all, some strange tales dragged you into their depths the moment you heard them—even by accident. Once you were caught up in one, there was no escape.

Liya’s gentleness and kindness only extended to things that posed no danger. The moment anything seemed even a little out of the ordinary, she’d find an excuse to run.

If that unclean thing weren’t threatening her life, she wouldn’t be a Saintess of the Church now.

All she wanted was to learn a few protective spells and some divination, then live an ordinary life in Ayideen until the end of her days.

Without helping the blond boy, she headed straight for the giant eagle’s third toe.

The closer she got, the more guards she saw on patrol. This place was some distance from the center of Ayideen, and there weren’t many residential buildings nearby. It clearly wasn’t meant for people to live in.

At the entrance stood a gate shaped like a candelabrum. Above it, a flame said to never go out blazed fiercely.

Behind the gate, the Church’s eye-catching buildings rose from the ground. The clash of vast knowledge and extraordinary wisdom sparked inspiration, guiding countless scholars in their exploration of the mysterious powers of the unknown. This was where most of the world’s spells had originated and developed: the Candlelight Sanctuary.

The place got its name from what scholars called it. After all, the vast majority of scholars in the world considered it a sanctuary of knowledge.

But Sherry didn’t like this place.

Though the morning was bright and beautiful, an eerie chill hung over the Candlelight Sanctuary. If she quieted her mind and listened, she could always hear the sticky sound of soft-bodied creatures crawling over branches. The leaves on the trees never stirred, yet she could feel a breeze against her skin.

If the scholars here weren’t living, breathing humans, she wouldn’t dare set foot in the depths of the Candlelight Sanctuary.

“Oh, it’s Liya! What brings you here today?” A male scholar sitting beside the fountain in the middle of the path noticed Sherry standing alone. He closed his slightly yellowed book and greeted her with a smile.

“Shh, I’m sneaking in to learn some spells. You have to keep it a secret, okay?” Sherry winked and playfully joked with him.

The male scholar shook his head with an amused smile, then opened his book again and returned to his studies.

Another reason Sherry didn’t like this place was that all the male scholars here were bookworms.

Their heads were full of spell knowledge and nothing else. They weren’t interested in Saintess Liya—in fact, plenty of scholars had never even heard of her!

That was a blow to someone with as many admirers as her.

After searching for a while, she spotted something suspicious deep inside the Candlelight Sanctuary, to the left of the giant eagle’s third toe. The stone-brick floor, usually fitted together without a gap, had a few cracks there, as if someone had tampered with it on purpose.

If she lifted those bricks, she should find the hidden basement Ackerman had mentioned.

There were quite a few guards up ahead. To avoid drawing suspicion, she circled around the outskirts a few times, then headed back.

Now all that was left was to wait for Ackerman to cause a commotion.

…

“Hey, hear that? That nun named Liya you got involved with seems to be the Church’s Saintess.” The Ghostling on Carlisle’s neck whispered from beneath his black clerical robe.

After searching the church all morning, he hadn’t found the slightest trace of the Witch. But it wasn’t a total loss. At least he’d found plenty of clothes to cover himself with, even if they were all different kinds of clerical robes.

After muttering an apology, he grabbed a black robe at random and threw it on over his clothes.

It was noon. He could put the search on hold for now. Time to eat.

The Witch’s destination was Ayideen. He didn’t believe she’d leave so soon.

As he walked through the streets, he kept hearing passersby mention Saintess Liya. After thinking it over, he realized the nun he’d subdued was apparently named Liya too.

“The Saintess? You’ve got the wrong person. Maybe they just have the same name.”

He didn’t think she was the same person as Saintess Liya. As for why, it mostly came down to a man’s intuition. The Saintess Liya people talked about sounded a little too perfect—gentle, kind, considerate. She was the sort of person who only existed in books.

And besides…

“The Saintess is an important figure in the Church. How could she go out without at least a couple of guards?”

When he subdued Liya, there hadn’t been a single guard with her.

“Use that little brain of yours. Think about the nobles we saw earlier. They’ve got barely any authority, and they still travel with a couple of guards. So a Church Saintess? If she didn’t have anyone protecting her, I wouldn’t believe it for a second.”

“Well…” The Ghostling couldn’t think of anything to argue back with.

“So the Liya I subdued is just an ordinary, unlucky nun. Once I get the ring back from the Witch, I’ll give her something valuable to make up for it.” His eyes settled on a shop called Witch’s Scent. He gave a small, surprised “Huh,” then pushed open the door and went inside.

“Welcome!”

The server, wearing a huge Witch’s hat, bowed slowly. Its brim came dangerously close to Carlisle’s clerical robe.

Witches weren’t taboo in this world. But the magic they were born with attracted plenty of scholars who’d lost their minds. To avoid being captured and dissected, Witches rarely appeared in public.

That only made Witches seem more mysterious. Merchants saw a huge business opportunity, and Witch-themed shops sprang up as a result.

Of course, the Witches in those shops were just ordinary people in costume, not real Witches.

But Carlisle was only there to eat. He’d chosen a Witch-themed restaurant mainly because it reminded him of a certain Witch who was incredibly punchable.

She’d single-handedly ruined his opinion of all Witches!

“Hello, sir. What would you like to order?” He’d barely taken a seat off to the side when the Witch-costumed server appeared beside him without a sound.

She brought him the menu.

Looking at the prices, he suddenly remembered something.

“Can I eat now and pay in a couple of days?”

“…Sorry, sir. Our restaurant doesn’t allow tabs.”

The Witch-costumed server seemed to look at him with disdain. But thanks to her good manners, she didn’t kick Carlisle out right away.

Another guy trying to dine and dash.

Carlisle knew she’d probably misunderstood, so he explained:

“It’s not that I don’t have money. It’s just that I don’t have it on me right now, you know what I mean.”