Ave-Margaret is not a normal person.
Ethan was serious.
He galloped through the torrential rain, thousands of thoughts flashing through his mind, from the mysterious Margaret Family to the barracks of Gear City, and then the officers there. What should he say when handing Ave's revolver over to them?
But then he thought of something else.
What are the chances of successfully launching a sneak attack with ice arrows while hiding among the crowd when the witch and her minions invade? Theoretically, the witch, like him, belonged to the magic profession, and when faced with an unexpected attack, her frail body would become a burden, which was why she had once been beheaded by three Tier Two Knights.
The witch probably didn't know there was another person in the town who knew both the Fireball Skill and ice arrows. After all, Elemental Shapers were not common on this continent. Occupying the advantageous condition of a sneak attack, the odds of success seemed optimistic, except afterward Ave's investigation might be troublesome. Followers of the God of Truth would find it hard to believe a witch was unluckily killed by hail as an excuse.
Ethan couldn't help but recall an old saying he had heard.
All the friends who often kill know that it's easier to kill someone than to dispose of the body. Although he had crossed over for two years, he was a total novice in the field of murder.
When he dismissed the thirteenth reason, a wooden cabin in the woods appeared in his sight.
Ethan quickly realized he no longer needed to trouble himself with reasons. He dismounted, only to immediately see Miss Keroy standing next to a woman in a black cloak, resting her hand on Keroy's head. Miss Keroy was trembling uncontrollably, looking very uncomfortable.
There were other visitors outside the cabin as well. Their clothing was much the same, belonging to those who would be suspected of wrongdoing just by walking on the street.
The white horse traveling with him also noticed this, and as Ethan and this group of uninvited guests locked eyes, it bolted, disappearing into the depths of the torrential rain before he could call out to stop it.
It seems the horse was in more of a hurry than he was to meet the Kingdom Army officer in Gear City.
The worst-case scenario had come to pass.
Before Ethan could join the main force of the town, the witch and her minions had already surrounded him. Their malevolent gazes had already considered him as the new sacrifice.
But on the other hand, Ethan felt slightly relieved in his heart.
At least now he no longer had to think about excuses to persuade Ave, nor estimate how many people might die in the town due to the disaster brought by the witch—which he would have had to participate in later if he were to stay as the town's clerk.
Reluctantly curled up on the ground, Miss Keroy heard the noise from behind and her eyes lit up. Seizing the moment the woman's attention shifted, she broke free from her hold and scurried over. She positioned herself in front of Ethan, bending over and emitting a low warning growl.
"Go inside the cabin to avoid the rain, be careful of catching a cold."
Ethan gently patted Miss Keroy's head, who then looked up at him with a puzzled chirp.
"Be good."
"Goo."
Miss Keroy shook her neck and walked towards the wooden cabin, turning back every few steps.
"Oh? You didn't try to run away?"
The woman in the black cloak seemed surprised and said, "The reason I am here is because you took something of mine. I just didn't expect that you would use it on a chicken... I can tell that chicken really likes you."
"Her name is Keroy."
As he approached, Ethan finally saw the face beneath the cloak. The familiar face left him in a daze for a while, blurting out, "How is it you?"
"You know me?"
"You're Baron Bird's daughter. We met at the Ximu Town party."
The party was a fixed event between the two towns. Every harvest season, Baron Bird would bring his wife and children to Ximu Town to attend the party. Sadly, as the mayor of Riverside Town, he could no longer attend.
Ethan remembered the girl named Becky because of her strange behavior at the party.
While people in the town shared the joy of the harvest, she stayed alone in a corner, watching Baron Bird's back with a creepy gaze.
According to Baron Gledin's description, the witch was an adult woman, even closer to the image of a hag. However, Becky looked like a girl barely over fifteen, the cloak loose on her form, her long hair wet, making her look very sloppy.
"Oh, you're talking about Becky, she's a poor child."
She grinned, revealing the same creepy smile that Ethan remembered, "Suffering from a severe illness since childhood, visited many doctors, yet all concluded she couldn't live past ten. The sadder part is she had a foolish mother who sought help from the Evil God to keep her daughter alive."
Ethan watched as she lifted her right hand, aiming her index finger at the flesh beneath her eye. Her sharp nail pierced into the flesh, crimson blood streaming down her face along the wound. "See, Becky is no longer here."
Ethan felt a chill go up his spine; he found the witch somewhat perverted.
"However, I don't remember you."
The witch shrugged.
Ethan said, "That's even better. I'm not someone worth remembering."
"But you are from the town. I've heard there's a sheriff in your town. How did she describe me to you?"
"She said you were defeated by three Tier Two Knights once, and she could do the same."
The witch's face unsurprisingly turned grim, and she sneered, "Are you referring to those three who won by poisoning the water source and shamelessly depicted themselves as heroes?"
"I always thought her plan was unreliable. The book 'The Three Knights' clearly has issues!"
Just now, due to Baron Gledin's presence, Ethan couldn't voice his suspicions.
The book was written with detailed descriptions in many aspects, even mentioning how the three became knights and how they journeyed from the imperial capital to the frontier—encountering strange tales along the way, compiled into small episodic stories. Ethan had enjoyed reading it until it described the knights' battle with the witch when it abruptly ended poorly.
It was like an online novel he had read before, where a substitute writer took over midway, and the plots of the war against the witch turned into trivialities, more like the author had a brainwave one afternoon.
Given this world doesn't contain phenomena like elongating word counts to earn manuscript fees, Ethan thought of a reason—the way the three knights defeated the witch was not conducive to promoting a heroic image, so it had to be "artistically" processed.
But this indirectly caused a problem.
The witch's actual skills were much stronger than Ave deduced.
The witch looked at Ethan, who remained silent for a long time. Her gaze shifted to the revolver at his waist, "Well? Are you planning to use it against me?"
"Of course not. I've never used a gun."
Ethan immediately denied it; he couldn't place his hopes for survival on an unfamiliar tool.
"This is a token of the capital's nobles. That young lady cares about you very much. Are you her lover?"
"I'm just a clerk temporarily recruited to investigate the case."
"Then prove it to me."
The witch smiled eerily, "That man over there is Baron Bird's steward. To prove his loyalty to me, he personally poisoned the town's water source with this."
It was a gray pouch the size of a palm, exuding a pungent medicinal smell. The witch's eyes shimmered with a ghostly green light, and her tone brimmed with temptation, just as described in the book, "She trusts you. This isn't a difficult task for you. Curse them, and I'll let you go, allow you to follow me, and even share our master's power."
This wasn't a negotiation.
Ethan noticed the movements of the witch's followers; they had already blocked all escape routes. The consequences of refusal were obvious.
This was definitely the most perilous job interview he had ever experienced, drenched by the rain, surrounded by the followers of the Evil God Bajatos. Any answer unsatisfactory to the interviewer could make him a sacrifice to Bajatos.
"What is your goal?"
Out of courtesy, he symbolically inquired about the job prospects.
The witch, however, laughed heartily as if hearing something amusing, seemingly untouched by anyone asking her that before, "Goal? Of course, to kill everyone in our way."
At least regarding the witch's depiction, 'The Three Knights' hadn't strayed too far from reality.
The witch raised her voice, "Tell me, what's your answer?"