As the first light of dawn crept into the dim room, Sherry rubbed her sleepy eyes and sat up in bed.

After a night’s sleep, her silver hair was a little messy, with a few cowlicks sticking straight up from her head and making her look adorable.

She yawned and stretched, then threw off the covers and left her room.

This was usually when she washed up.

A faint, cool breeze from the hallway brushed her bare, pale feet. She scratched at her thigh, a little itchy where her nightdress had brushed against it, and gradually came fully awake.

It was quite a bit colder outside than it was in her room.

And it seemed there was someone else in the house now.

She hurriedly covered her slightly see-through chest and turned back into her bedroom. Only after changing into clean underwear and her Saintess robes did she come out again.

The dirty footprints were gone from the floor. The broken front door had been blown open by the wind, and Carlisle seemed to have vanished without a trace.

Had he left?

After searching the first floor for a while, Sherry was certain Carlisle had left her home.

Leaving without a word—what a rude guy!

He could’ve at least blocked the door on his way out. If ordinary people could get into the area behind the church, she was sure she would’ve woken up to find herself not in her bedroom, but in some gloomy basement surrounded by a bunch of leering men.

After grumbling to herself for a bit, she propped the front door shut with a chair and plopped down on the sofa. Then she pulled a book from her ring: *Potion Theory (Volume Two).*

These theories were the basic knowledge she needed to learn if she wanted to make powerful potions. But just like the dull subjects she’d studied in her previous life, theory was always hard for her to get into.

Mixing in all sorts of strange ingredients and stirring them with her own magic, she found the effects of potions made without any theoretical knowledge as unpredictable as a blind box. She was hooked.

Of course, it did burn through money.

“Hm, I learned that fast. I should ask my teacher for the next volume of Potion Theory.” She turned the last page and thought back to the teacher who had taught her how to use magic.

Hera the Witch, head librarian of the Great Library of Saint Perrod.

Not long after she awakened her magical powers, Hera the Witch had found her and promised to teach her everything she knew, so Sherry could become an outstanding witch.

But the longer Sherry studied, the stranger Hera’s expression became whenever she looked at her.

【It’s fine if you can’t tell someone’s fortune, but you can’t tell them they’ll make a fortune in the future!】

【They were happy and even gave you a huge tip? That’s not the point! What you did was a disgrace to fortune-telling!】

【You’re in pain? Why would you take a hemostatic potion while you’re on your period? Do you have no common sense?】

【So it’s my fault I grabbed the wrong painkiller? Who’d be so weird as to name a hemostatic potion ‘Pain, Fly Away’? Don’t tell me you drank it because you thought it was a painkiller too…】

【I knew it… Why are all the names you give your potions so… eye-catching?】

Remembering the look of utter exasperation on Hera’s face as she said those things, Sherry knew her teacher was very dissatisfied with her.

But a teacher was still a teacher. No matter how exasperated she got, Hera would pass on all her knowledge to Sherry… and definitely not because there were only two witches in Ayideen!

She tossed the book into her ring, rolled around on the soft sofa twice, then got up and straightened her robes. At last, she let out a deep breath.

A letter slipped through the gap beneath the front door. She reached out and caught it.

It contained an address inside a church, and was signed by Morse.

Her heart began pounding hard. She clutched her chest and left the house with a grave expression, setting off for the address in the letter.

Morse had just returned from outside, and he was in such a hurry to see her. He must be planning to question her about the theft of the holy relic. If she failed to keep her story straight, she and Ackerman would both end up as charred corpses on the pyre.

When she reached her destination, she pressed her lips together, doing her best to make her expression look natural.

Then she knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

At Pope Morse’s voice, the door slowly swung open.

Morse and Ackerman had one thing in common: both were middle-aged men with hair that was half gray. But if Ackerman’s eyes made him look like an old fox, Morse was a snake—a venomous snake ready to strike.

He sat with his hands clasped beneath his chin. On the desk lay the giant eagle scepter that marked him as Pope.

“Have you been doing well lately, Liya?” His eyes narrowed, and there seemed to be a hint of an elder’s affection for a younger person in his voice.

“Mm, I’m doing all right.” Sherry nodded, looking a little stiff.

A long time ago, her relationship with Morse hadn’t been as distant as it was now. Just as his diary had revealed, when His Holiness had first adopted her and her younger sister, he’d been no different from a man who had just become a father.

He was clumsy, and sometimes he’d fly into helpless rages.

When her younger sister was little, she’d been very attached to Morse. For the sake of a small candy reward, Nina would follow him wherever he went, like a little shadow.

Sherry was Nina’s complete opposite. Like a snow lotus on a mountain peak, even as a child she gave off an unmistakable keep-away aura. Morse would find all kinds of candy from who-knows-where and often give it to her as a present, trying to coax a smile out of her. He seemed strangely humble about it.

As time passed, Sherry gradually adapted to the new world and grew into the person she was now.

She didn’t know when kind, approachable Morse had changed into the man he was today, but the distance between them had only grown.

“Do you know why I asked you here?” He fixed her with snake-like eyes, as if probing her thoughts.

Sherry’s heart tightened, but she kept her expression still. “Is it about the stolen holy relic?”

To her surprise, Morse shook his head.

“No. I don’t care that it’s missing.” He gave a mocking laugh, as if the holy relic truly meant nothing to him. “Anyone who tries to use it will end up a mindless puppet. Gerald’s eldritch power is beyond anything humans can touch.”

Trying to glimpse the power of the ancient gods through their remains was nothing but courting death. Those beings were beyond human understanding. Just seeing one was enough to drive foolish people mad.

Knowing Morse wasn’t going to question her about the holy relic, Sherry felt the weight lift from her heart.

“I called you here for something else.” Morse paused, as if giving Sherry a moment to brace herself. “I want to send you to investigate a recent murder.”

“A murder?” Sherry’s voice rose a little when she heard those words.

Any murder she’d be sent to investigate clearly wouldn’t be an ordinary one. It was very likely to be a terrifying case involving an ancient god or some aberrant entity.

An investigation like that could easily cost her her life!

“Don’t worry.” Morse seemed to see right through the thoughts racing through the girl’s mind. He smiled faintly and reassured her, “I’ve brought in a very capable partner to help solve this case. You only need to assist with his investigation.”

“To put it simply, stick by his side and act as his maid.”