"This happened in my grandfather's era."
Baron Gladwin hunched forward, hands pressed beneath his chin, eyes fixed on the tea table as if his thoughts had drifted back across decades.
"He was a knight of the royal army. He was ordered to the border to eliminate a group of cultists who worshiped the evil god Bazatos."
Ethan had read this story.
Creekwood's public library held a book recording the event. It was written with a fairy-tale tone, portraying three fearless royal knights and a wicked witch who used border town residents as sacrifices to an evil god.
It was one of the first books Ethan ever read here—back when he still needed to understand exactly what kind of world he'd transmigrated into.
Like countless fairy tales, the three brave knights overcame trial after trial, finally defeated the evil witch, and brought peace to the town.
To reward them, the king granted all three noble titles.
Two decided to remain in the region. One became Baron Gladwin's grandfather.
The other stayed in Riverside Town, throwing himself into its development and construction.
The close ties between the two towns were, in part, because of that old friendship between the two barons.
"I've read the book," Ivy said. Time was tight. She didn't want to waste it on a story she already knew. "What details did the book leave out? Did the witch leave behind descendants, or an apprentice?"
"All cultists connected to the witch were executed," Gladwin said. His face was bloodless. He hesitated, then forced the words out. "But when they killed the witch… something strange happened."
"My grandfather confessed a secret in his later years. By then, his mind wasn't quite right. He woke from nightmares every day."
Gladwin swallowed, then gritted his teeth.
"After they defeated the witch, they cut off her head."
His voice shook.
"But the witch… lived for a long time even after her head was severed. She placed a curse on the town. She said she would return someday and kill everyone."
"No one was braver than my grandfather," Gladwin insisted, as if defending his family's honor. "He dared enter the forest alone and face every beast."
But his clenched fists loosened, powerless.
"Yet he was frightened out of his mind by nightmares. He would scream himself out of bed, grab his sword, and slash at the air, shouting 'She's back!' Sometimes he even injured servants who ran in to help. He had to keep his sword at his bedside before he could sleep, but even then… he didn't last long."
His father had sealed the news. Few people knew that Creekwood's "hero" had spent his last years dying in fear and madness.
Gladwin's shoulders slumped. "But the witch's curse continued. A few months later, my father was found drowned in a pond by the guards."
And now…
It was Riverside Town's turn.
Gladwin couldn't help recalling his grandfather's clouded eyes—how the town's hero had lost all courage, leaving only terror and despair, whispering:
She's back… we're all going to die…
Lightning tore across the sky.
Black clouds swallowed the light.
The manor plunged into gloom.
What perfectly timed rain.
Ethan's spine went cold. The sudden thunder made him flinch.
A witch who returned from death. A town erased in strange ways.
Everything he saw seemed steeped in shadow.
"You believe it was a witch," Ivy said after a moment of thought.
Then she turned to Ethan.
"Ethan—what witchcraft did she use?"
"How would I know?" Ethan's head felt full of question marks.
The baron described her like a vengeful ghost. It was terrifying.
"Huh? Aren't you the expert? There's occult knowledge even you don't know?" Ivy sounded genuinely surprised.
"I'm just a guild clerk who's read some occult books. I've never dealt with witches…" Ethan paused, then added, "But resurrection isn't impossible. Getting to Know 100 Types of Dark Creatures mentions that the witch's evil god, Bazatos, symbolizes death. His followers study death deeply. The book also says that high-tier witches can summon monsters from the underworld through contracts."
Ethan glanced at Baron Gladwin's hollow-eyed despair and didn't have the heart to continue.
The book also mentioned that sacrificial rites were a kind of contract—Bazatos's followers traded souls to him in exchange for power.
The worst-case scenario was obvious.
The witch had already sacrificed the souls of every resident of Riverside Town to an evil god.
If that many souls had been offered…
…then she was probably unstoppable now.
Compared to a witch returning for revenge, Ethan would rather face a ghost.
At least the books said ghosts were only scary-looking, not particularly dangerous.
"We're done for… we're dead…"
Baron Gladwin shook uncontrollably. Ethan felt he was moments away from trying to become a mushroom like the merchant.
Ethan, ever the scholar, assessed the town's situation and reached a difficult decision.
Two years were up.
It was time to leave town and begin a new adventure.
From what Ethan had observed, Miss Chloe possessed the ability to fly. With her strength, carrying him on a journey shouldn't be a problem.
As for Creekwood Town…
He wished everyone here the best of luck.
Ivy suddenly spoke. "I know about your grandfather. He was an empire-certified tier-two knight. When the order came, they came to the border without hesitation."
Ethan guessed Ivy meant to encourage Baron Gladwin.
Unfortunately, her tone was so calm it sounded like mockery, only deepening the baron's gloom.
The baron covered his face in pain. "Yes… if only I could be as brave as my grandfather. As strong…"
"He taught me swordsmanship. He left a knight's handbook. But no matter what I do… I can't become someone like him."
"Then what are you going to do?" Ivy asked.
The sudden question left the baron frozen. He stammered for a long time without producing a full sentence.
"You're the descendant of this town's hero," Ivy said. "The witch won't spare you. If you plan to do nothing—sit here and wait for her to kill you—then I won't waste any more time on you."
With that, Ivy turned to Ethan, her expression serious.
"Three tier-two knights managed it once. Why can't we? We prepare in advance. We set traps. We mobilize the guild hunters. Miss Chloe can help too…"
Then she gave the order.
"Ethan. Go bring her back to town."
Ethan noticed Ivy's gaze drift past him to the storm outside, as if she'd already begun thinking about defensive fortifications.
At least Creekwood still had a sheriff he could trust.
In that case, Ethan could leave with peace of mind.
And just now, Ivy had even created the perfect opportunity for him.
On the way back to retrieve Miss Chloe, he "ran into the witch" and died tragically.
Even if he never returned, no one could blame him.
Ethan turned to go.
"Wait."
Ivy's voice stopped him. Ethan's heart jumped.
She was smart—had she seen through his plan to slip away?
He immediately began reflecting.
He'd agreed too quickly. Faced with a life-and-death crisis, he should've hesitated, struggled, acted like he was wrestling with his conscience—only then making a courageous decision.
That would've been far more believable.
While his mind raced, Ivy stepped up to him, unfastened the revolver from her belt, and placed it directly into his hand.
"Don't die on the road."
The weight in his palm left him slightly dazed.
This was the first time he'd examined Ivy's revolver up close.
Fine craftsmanship. A family crest carved into the grip—one he'd never seen before.
Ethan hadn't expected to be forced into a dilemma like this.
He wanted to run.
But if he took the only weapon Ivy might use to turn the tables…
…that would be beyond shameless.
He didn't want to be dragged into other people's grudges.
But he didn't want to hurt anyone either.
So he tried to push it back. "There's no need."
Ivy refused, frowning. "Stop talking. Go. Come back fast."
In theory, Ivy was a smart person.
Joining the Society of Enlightenment was proof enough of that.
But lately Ethan had discovered that in certain areas, she could be astonishingly foolish.
She handed her weapon to an outsider far too easily.
Ethan knew plenty of people in the guild who could walk off with that revolver without a shred of guilt—sell it on the black market for a fortune, change identities, and live carefree for the rest of their lives.
He could only guess that Ivy had never really dealt with true villains.
In this era, that itself was almost unbelievable.
And now the same chance sat right in Ethan's hands.
On the eve of parting, Ivy had even "generously" provided him with startup funds for his adventure.
"You're not afraid I'll take your gun and run?" Ethan asked.
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
He suspected Ivy had dragged him down to her level without him realizing.
Ivy blinked, enlightenment dawning. "Oh. Right. That's possible too."
"I was joking—"
"If you do run," Ivy cut him off, "run far. Go to a big city. When you get there, find an officer. Show him the gun and tell him Ivy Margaret sent you. Tell him what happened in Riverside and Creekwood, and have him dispatch the royal army to purge the witch."
Ethan stared at her, utterly stunned.
"And one more thing." Ivy gave him that same look of disdain again.
"Next time you plan to run, don't tell anyone. You'll get tied up."
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