Chapter 45: Reaction

"Is Mr. Sean a wizard of Cyril?" Several hours had passed, yet Sarah's expression remained a blend of astonishment and incredulity, continuously murmuring to herself, "How could he possibly be associated with the Red Robe Society?"

"He has admitted it himself, and even our friend, Anael Van Dyke, did not deny it," the paladin Camacho shrugged. "You needn't worry too much; after all, the Witch Council isn't preparing to take action against him."

"The issue isn't there... The issue is that Mr. Sean doesn't seem at all like a nefarious and cunning Red Robe mage," the paladin remarked. "He possesses the virtues and courage of a knight; he couldn't possibly be a villain."

Sarah defended with confidence, recalling the events of that evening, her cheeks slightly flushed, the image of the young man, once calm, silent, and gentle, now becoming distorted and vague in her mind.

As a follower of Tyre, one must conduct thorough research on the most notorious evil organizations in the Farland, such as the Dragon Witch Cult, the scattered Towerlin Society, the Amn Shadow Thieves, and the Shadowmasters, but particularly focus on the Red Robe Wizard Society, which wields a powerful rogue regime over a nation. Sarah had heard various rumors since childhood, forming a certain impression.

However, upon learning this news, the impression crumbled and blurred along with the image of Penny Sean in her heart. This sensation left her at a loss—only a short while ago, she regarded him as an idol and exemplar.

"Sael is vast, accommodating all manner of individuals. Even in the shadowy realms, anomalies like Trist can emerge. As followers of Tyre, we must acknowledge that not all inhabitants of that nation are irredeemable villains," Camacho gestured with his hand. "However, you must understand, the agenda of this organization is entirely antagonistic to ours. More importantly, we are uncertain of Mr. Sean's true intentions."

"What intentions could he possibly have?" Sarah wanted to argue but suddenly found herself speechless. Indeed, Penny had only mentioned tracking the Church of the Heartless, leaving no further clues. Yet, the appearance of a Red Robe mage apprentice in Sael at such a delicate juncture inevitably sparked other conjectures.

"Sarah, do not forget, Lady Dauroslo just informed us that the demon revered by the Church of the Heartless is the same one unleashed from the depths of Alberta forty years ago by the chief lich of the Red Robe Society. The entire Heartless organization is inextricably linked to Sael," Camacho continued. "The Red Robe Society must bear responsibility for this, especially as it seems they are consorting with this demon..."

Forty years ago, a major incident occurred in the capital of Sael, Alberta. At that time, the chief necromancer, Sazastan, carefully concealed his lich identity—aside from a few chiefs and elders of the Red Robe Wizard Society, no one knew this secret. However, after that fateful night, everything became impossible to hide.

Beneath Alberta lies a portal to another dimension, where a powerful demon is imprisoned, said to be a defeated lord of the abyss. The prolonged captivity has nearly depleted its power, and Sazastan sought to enslave it through the creation of a spell... Originally, this seemed like a sure thing, but unfortunately, it met with failure.

"Necromancer, do not dare to imagine controlling me!"

That night, this roar echoed from the underground sewers, reverberating throughout the province of Alberta, and then upheaval struck the upper echelons of the Red Robe Wizard Society. Sazastan's reputation suffered greatly, and he retreated from the public eye for a long time, never able to regain the pinnacle of his authority.

After escaping the seal, this demon remained silent and elusive. As time passed, many assumed it had returned to the abyss, but little did they know it might still linger in the material realm.

Hence, it was quite unexpected that the mastermind behind the Church of the Heartless was this entity.

Listening to Camacho's narrative, Sarah, who would normally have been humble and attentive due to her personality and the teachings of her elders, now felt only irritation, unable to absorb a single word.

At the same time, she found her trust in Penny Sean wavering, a natural occurrence perhaps, but it left her feeling restless and despondent.

"In any case, every apprentice knight, every individual traversing the lands of Ferland, inevitably dons a veil of disguise to some extent. Until one thoroughly discerns the true visage of the other, all is but a masquerade. We must distinguish reality and not easily be deceived," Camacho gently tapped Sarah's head. "This vigilance is essential for a paladin."

"Vigilance?" Sarah recalled the scene by the creek that evening, her face gradually flushing. She believed herself to be clear-headed, refusing to believe that Penny Sean wore any mask that night. Yet, his origin from Sael was undeniable, leaving her conflicted and even beginning to distrust herself.

"Perhaps I should personally inquire of Mr. Sean," Sarah pondered, her gaze growing resolute. "He may be concealing something, but I refuse to believe he has been in disguise all along!"

...

Not long ago, members of the Witch Council were also discussing:

"Lottis, you are so astute to have identified that spy so quickly."

The witch sitting in the chair of the president smiled knowingly, her gaze still profound.

"But why did you let him go?" Oslaw, ranked fourth, with a somewhat sour temperament, furrowed her brow. "Didn't you just say that the Church of the Heartless is the handiwork of the Red Robe Wizard Society? Clearly, it has much to do with this soon-to-be-robed little spy."

"No, no, my dear sisters, the affairs within our southern neighbors are beyond our comprehension," another witch, Norida, shook her head.

"Those fellows, even after enduring a dozen blood-stained years, are unlikely to grasp the concept of unity," Babusha snorted. "Moreover, I doubt they can endure such a prolonged period."

"Well, sisters, how do we intend to handle this apprentice in the red robe? I sense no hostility from him," Norida shook her head.

"No hostility? I, too, sense he does not harbor hostility, but the Red Robe Mages are undoubtedly our foes. Much of the predicament we face is due to their mischief," Babusha sneered, turning to the elder Oslaw seated at the head. "Sister, we should adopt some strict measures to deal with this spy."

Oslaw, seated in the chair of the president, calmly observed Babusha for a moment, then turned to the elder Okrus who had remained silent. "Elder of the Madiel Forest, why have you been silent all this while?"

"Um... well, someone asked me to keep quiet just now," the elder scratched his beard, glancing at the embarrassed Babusha before speaking.

The Grand Witch chuckled. "Haha... don't take the straightforward words of our sister to heart, Elder. Share your thoughts."

"My perspective?" Okrus paused, resting his staff. "I am uncertain of his ultimate intentions, but it is undeniable that he saved the lives of me and all the villagers at the Madiel Outpost."

"Well, then there is indeed no reason to mistreat him." The Grand Witch waved her hand, about to speak, when she heard Babusha urgently interject, "Sister Lottis, we are in dire straits; we cannot easily overlook a sensitive individual."

"Revenge is not the way of the Witch Council, regardless of the target," Okrus harrumphed. "Madam Witch, I understand your animosity towards Sael, but please do not let hatred interfere with the principles of Lathemon."

"I'll say it again, Okrus, elders have no authority to discuss politics!" Babusha retorted angrily.

"Quiet, quiet!" The Chief Witch tapped on the table, the noisy clamor subsiding. As she opened her eyes, the bloodshot veins revealed her fatigue and weariness. Since the outbreak of internal strife, countless unsettling incidents had occurred within the Witch Council. At this moment of internal and external turmoil, the Sixth Oslaw had fallen into decadence once again. Even she, wise from twenty years in the chief position, felt drained. Amidst the chaos before her, she felt physically and mentally exhausted.

To what extent had they come? How could such a trivial matter cause such an uproar? How could such a feeble apprentice mage provoke such tension in their strained nerves?

The Grand Oslaw sighed. "Ladies and gentlemen, if our southern neighbors were to witness this scene, they would surely be astonished, for they would find that we have succumbed to their own vices."

Babusha's anger subsided abruptly, and she paused for a moment, before lowering her head and returning to her seat. "My apologies... Sister Lottis, but... I implore you to reconsider your actions."

"In that case, let this guest from Sael reside temporarily until our troubles are resolved, and then we can deport him. After all, we have not engaged in formal warfare for many years, and there is no need to treat every Saelite with undue harshness," the Chief Witch tapped on the table, finally making a decision.

"Your wisdom will bring stability to the Witch Council, Lady Oslaw," Elder Okrus complimented sincerely.

"Elder, since you vouch for this guest's conduct, then I entrust you with his affairs."

The Elder nodded gently, accepting the appointment.

And the witches moved on to the next topic: "Now, let us discuss the matters of Musantir..."

...

For Penny, these discussions felt distant and irrelevant. He was currently in a corner of the village, facing off with several elderly, wrinkled-faced crones who harbored deep grudges. Initially shocked, he found himself surprisingly calm as the initial surprise faded. Perhaps years of deception had made him overly confident, to the point where being exposed felt somewhat bewildering. Yet, upon reflection, it was only natural. He couldn't expect everyone in the Witch Council to be fools, and being exposed was not entirely unacceptable.

As for the consequences, since they were not within his purview to decide, he saw no need to dwell on them excessively. At most, he would devise a plan to escape when the timing was unfavorable. Besides, Okrus was not an unreasonable man; he believed he would not be subjected to any mistreatment, and indeed, this was almost the case—had the figures before him been winsome maidens instead of these hoary-headed crones.

"Listen, Saelite, no wandering about, or I'll turn you into a fool," a haggard witch threatened him malevolently.

Penny nodded absently, sitting dejectedly on the ground. Suddenly, a voice came from his side. "Hey! Kid, can you hear me? I'm on your left, your left!"

Penny turned his head to see a minstrel a few dozen feet away, winking at him. At the same time, another message reached him: "Alright, kid, listen up. I'll summon a bunch of monsters to distract them later, then you make your escape, got it?"

Penny felt a wave of relief. Having obtained the final piece of information from the witch about the Heartless, he confirmed he had no reason to linger any longer. It was a stroke of luck to have assistance. So, without leaving any trace, he subtly turned his head back and nodded imperceptibly. However, as he raised his head, he found another figure standing before him. "Mr. Okrus?"

"Well... dear guest, I'm sorry, but Lathemon is in a sensitive period," Okrus's expression seemed somewhat embarrassed. "We must ask you to stay here temporarily."

"It's alright." Penny smiled upon receiving the minstrel's message. "I understand."

"It's truly wonderful that you understand," Elder Okrus's face showed a relieved smile, but he hesitated for a moment, as if he had something to say. "However, Penny, may I address you thus?"

"Of course, Elder sir. Do you have any advice for me?" Penny ventured to ask.

"I wanted to say, four centuries ago, the Lathemon witches were actually no different from the Red Robe sorcerers... It's just that later they betrayed their devotion to goodness..." Okrus spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. "Penny, I wanted to ask, are you willing to forsake the depths of Sael, or... tread a different path? As you know, I am an elder of Lathemon, and I have not found an heir yet."

Having finished, he gazed directly at the oddly colored Penny.

"Elder sir," Penny cleared his throat, while also sensing the gazes of the other witches upon him. "Am I correct in understanding that you are attempting to persuade me to depart from the Red Robe sorcerers?"

"Indeed, Penny, you are keenly aware of what kind of place it is, although we haven't spent much time together, I know a child like you must be very clear-headed, knowing it's not where you should be." Seeing no sign of Penny's inclination, Okrus sought to persuade him.

"Elder, there's no need to waste words with him. Saelians deserve to perish in the gutter," interjected the witch, her tone dripping with bitterness, suggesting a personal vendetta against the Saelian.

Okrus touched his nose and turned away. "Anyway, you should consider carefully."

Consider what?

Penny pursed his lips. Indeed, Okrus's suggestion was a great temptation for him, but could he really leave Sael? Spend the rest of his days pursued by the Red Robe lunatics? And what about Jonathan and Siecor...

He sighed and fingered the coins in his pocket.

He was not one to be easily swayed.

After sighing, he looked up and suddenly saw the minstrel winking nearby again. His heart raced, knowing the minstrel was prepared, and the opportune moment to escape had come.

"Mr. Sean..." At that moment, a hesitant voice came from beside him. Penny turned his head and saw the spirited young woman looking somewhat forlorn.

"What's wrong? You seem a bit down," Penny smiled, and the young woman's heart skipped a beat. Just that one smile, as warm as the night they met, made her feel even more convinced of her intuition.

"Mr. Sean hasn't disguised himself. There must be a reason he's with the Red Robe sorcerers," the young woman thought, lifting her head and speaking up. "Mr. Se... Mr. Sean..."

Beep! Beep beep beep!

"Battle stations! Enemy attack!"

The war horn of the berserkers erupted with a sharp cry, causing Penny to furrow his brow, wondering how much spectacle the minstrel had stirred up.

Soon, he was filled with horror as he witnessed the village surrounded by a horde of trolls and gnolls, accompanied by even larger, more savage beasts, all rampaging into the settlement, mercilessly slaughtering anyone in their path. Soon, screams and bloodshed engulfed the entire village!

Moreover, chaotic mists enveloped the small village from all directions. Within moments, Penny could see nothing around him!

Amidst a horrific cry, a blood-drenched, monstrous head rolled to his feet. A holy warrior roared in anger, leaping forward to parry the gnoll's massive blade, only to be thrown back onto Penny by the force of the impact. Penny stumbled, falling to the ground in a flurry of confusion, scrambling to rise.

At this point, he realized it was definitely not the minstrel's trickery!

The village was under attack!

"Quick, get out of here!" Penny, sensing the sensory-depriving mist caused by magic, shouted urgently, grabbing the holy warrior who was still trying to charge forward, then turning and running!