Hum—
The familiar white light flashed, and the scenery before him shifted continuously. Green opened his eyes.
This is… Looking around, Green found himself standing on a wooden platform, surrounded by a boisterous crowd. Wealthy nobles in extravagant clothing, adventurers in iron armor, street vendors hawking their wares—people of all kinds packed the area so tightly that not even water could trickle through. Everyone in the small town was staring at him, their faces filled with anticipation.
What were they expecting? Memories surged like a tide; Green remembered. A heresy trial—a bloody execution.
“Lord Lord.” A stout man wearing a priest’s robe walked silently to his side and bowed his head respectfully. “Shall we proceed with the execution?”
Execution? Green remembered his mission: “Protect the Heretic Witch.” The Life Simulations in this Adventurer’s Log were truly interesting. In his last life, he was a cold, impartial Paladin who struck down all evil in the world; in this life, he was going to collude with a heretic witch?
However… Green recalled his tasks for this simulation: “Build the territory to be wealthy and prosperous, expanding it as much as possible,” and “Assist the heretic witch in her research.” It seemed that being a “Heretic” didn’t necessarily mean being useless to the people.
He shot a meaningful glance at the priest, who was waiting with bated breath for the verdict, and then looked at the “Witch” firmly chained to a cross. The witch was beautiful. Even a brief glance made Green’s heart skip a beat.
Her dark hair swayed slightly in the chilling autumn wind, and her thin hemp clothes outlined an incredibly alluring silhouette. There was no trace of the fear one should have when facing death on her exquisite face—only an indescribable calmness.
“My Lord?” Seeing Green’s lack of response, the priest’s expression began to change. “That witch is a criminal on the Holy See’s most-wanted list. By capturing her and carrying out the execution, you will surely receive a generous reward—perhaps a territory much wealthier than this dilapidated town?”
“Oh.” Green gave a nonchalant reply. “What crime did she commit?” Stroking his chin, Green asked playfully.
“Her crimes are too numerous to record!” the priest stated righteously. “She performed wicked sorcery, polluting the surrounding village’s farmland so it couldn’t be harvested. Furthermore, she used charms to entice countless men into giving her vast amounts of wealth, even to the point of bankruptcy!”
Green fell silent for a moment. “So, you’re saying her crime is being too popular?”
Inheriting the Lord’s memories, Green began to play the role of the frivolous young master. He walked slowly toward the witch without any restraint. “Beauty should not be a sin.” Green reached out and gently touched the witch’s cheek. It was very soft.
“Lord Priest, don’t you think it’s a waste to simply kill this lady?”
“My Lord!” The priest’s face twisted in rage. He questioned furiously, “Do you know what you are saying? Do you intend to defy the Inquisition’s orders? To harbor a heretic!”
Green smiled. If he were the original spoiled brat, he might have been intimidated by the priest’s righteous indignation. But he was a former Senior Paladin.
“Lord Priest, I’ve seen the bounty notice you mentioned.” With that, he shook his head. “To be honest, that so-called Holy See bounty is full of loopholes from start to finish.”
“…” The priest opened his mouth, his fat face scrunching into a ball.
“Besides, I never said I was declaring this lady innocent, Mr. Brown?” Green looked at the silent, hulking man beside him who had a simple, honest face.
“Yes, My Lord.” The man knelt on one knee, placing his hand respectfully over his heart in a knight’s salute. Although his actions perfectly matched the spirit of chivalry, his massive, powerful build made the gesture look comically ironic—like a gorilla forced into a tuxedo.
“Take this witch to the dungeon. I will deliver my verdict after I have collected all the evidence.” Green issued the command.
“Lord Lord!” The fat priest grew anxious. In his desperation, he lunged toward Green, reaching out to stop him from taking the keys to the shackles.
Whoosh… Green shifted his weight slightly. The priest stumbled, lunged into empty air, and fell off the wooden platform with a thud. He landed face-first in the muddy road, his pristine white robes stained with filthy muck.
“Pfft, hahaha!” “That priest is hilarious!” “But wait, why is the Lord suddenly being so kind? He’s usually quite mean.” “Hee-hee, you kids wouldn’t understand. Our Lord is cold-hearted, but who can blame him when the heretic witch is so beautiful?” “Oh, you mean… heh heh heh.”
Watching the priest’s misfortune, the crowd erupted into joyful laughter. Like the Lord, the priest was usually a high-and-mighty figure that the commoners dared not offend. Seeing the Lord enjoy the priest’s embarrassment, the crowd felt safe enough to roar with laughter. Seeing a powerful figure lose face was a great delight for the townspeople.
“Lord Lord, you… YOU!” The priest struggled to stand, glaring at the mocking residents before declaring furiously, “I will report this truthfully to the Bishop! I hope you don’t regret this!” With that, the priest stormed off, leaving behind only a humiliated back.
“Mr. Brown?” Green looked at his captain of the guard—the honest-looking but immensely powerful man—and ordered, “Unlock the chains and bring this lady to the manor.”
Click. Brown didn’t question Green’s odd command; he immediately used the key to unlock the chains binding her to the cross.
Clang. However, even though she had escaped the pyre, the witch was far from free. Malnourished and pale, her hands and feet were still bound by Magic-Suppressing handcuffs.
“Miss Witch.” Green was in no hurry to grant her “freedom.” “Please allow me to invite you to the manor for a chat.” He bowed slightly with refined politeness.
The response to Green’s kindness was the witch’s silent contempt. In her deep blue eyes, there was no joy in escaping death—only wariness and a bottomless disgust for her “savior.”
A chat at the manor? What a pleasant way to put it. Wasn’t he just trying to turn her into a slave for his own amusement? Thinking of the various men who had shown her “special attention” because of her looks since childhood, all lusting after her body, the witch felt a wave of nausea.
This man… was just like them. She spoke softly, “Lord Lord, you only want my body. But I would rather die in the fire than have my purity defiled.”
“It seems there is quite a large misunderstanding between us.” Green chuckled at her words and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “But Miss Witch, you misjudge me. I didn’t save you for such boring reasons. I have a much grander goal.”
A grander goal? The witch looked up slightly. Under the brilliant sunlight, Green’s handsome face seemed to glow.
“By the way, what is your name?” Green asked curiously. “Sophie. My name is Sophie.” As if possessed, the witch unconsciously revealed her true name.
Raven Town · Sunset Tavern
“It’s infuriating! What is that Chamber of Commerce thinking?” Freya, the Duke’s daughter, was visibly displeased. “Saying that the only person they truly value is Green? That they owe their top-tier potion formulas to him?”
“He’s just a mere mortal.” Freya’s eyes were filled with confusion.
“Regarding that,” the genius mage Lucy said, her eyes flashing, “I actually heard a rumor at the Adventurers’ Guild earlier. They supposedly intend to hire Green as a High Consultant?”
“High Consultant of the Adventurers’ Guild? Green?” Freya never imagined those words could be combined.
“Could Green actually have some talent?” Freya asked hesitantly.
“Yes, but I heard many people at the headquarters oppose it. They’ve specifically sent a senior expert to assess him,” Lucy shared everything she knew.
“Hmph, I see.” Freya curled her lip. “I bet the Raven Town branch is just incompetent, which is why they created this joke. Once the headquarters expert arrives, Green’s lack of talent will be exposed.”
“Besides, potion brewing and intelligence gathering are just auxiliary. What truly matters is strength.” Speaking of this, Freya’s eyes filled with longing as she murmured, “You didn’t see the Hero’s grace today. That kind of unparalleled, absolute power is what we should be pursuing!”
At the same time, a swaying carriage was traveling at a moderate speed toward Raven Town. The carriage wasn’t luxurious, and the speed wasn’t fast, but almost every pedestrian who saw it pulled to the side to give way. Because the carriage bore the emblem of nine glowing rings.
A Ninth-Ring Mage. The highest title for a spellcaster.
“Lord Lord, you are in Raven Town right now, aren’t you?” The woman looked up, her face—beautiful enough to ruin nations—filled with longing.
“My divination has always been correct,” she said with absolute confidence, flipping through the Adventurers’ Guild records in her hand. “It was worth spending these years undercover in the Guild. After all this time, I can finally see him again.”
“But this time…” A faint smile appeared on Sophie’s peerless face. “I am the master.”