Chapter Eleven: The Three Knights

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Ivy Margaret was not a normal person.

Ethan was serious.

He rode his horse galloping through the storm, a thousand thoughts flashing through his mind—from the mysterious Margaret family to the barracks in Gearwheel City, and then to the officer there. What should he say when handing over Ivy’s revolver?

But then he thought of something else.

What were the odds of successfully ambushing the witch and her minions hidden among the crowd with an ice arrow? Theoretically, both the witch and he belonged to the magic profession; when faced with an unexpected attack, a frail body would be a liability, which was why she had once been beheaded by three second-tier knights.

The witch probably didn’t know there was someone in town who could wield both fireball and ice arrow. After all, elemental mages were rare on this continent. Given the advantage of a surprise attack, the odds of success were fairly optimistic. But investigating afterward would be troublesome; the followers of the God of Truth would hardly believe the ridiculous excuse that the witch was just unlucky and got killed by hail.

Ethan couldn’t help but recall an old saying.

Those who often commit murder know it’s easy to kill but hard to dispose of the body. Even after two years of crossing worlds, he was still a complete novice in the realm of killing.

Just as he dismissed the thirteenth reason, a wooden cabin appeared before him in the forest.

Ethan quickly realized he no longer needed to worry about reasons. He dismounted and immediately spotted Miss Chloe. Beside her stood a woman cloaked in black, her hand resting on Chloe’s head. Chloe trembled uncontrollably, looking very uneasy.

Other visitors had also arrived outside the cabin, dressed similarly in a way that would arouse suspicion on any street.

Even Ethan’s white horse sensed this and, seizing the moment when Ethan exchanged glances with these uninvited guests, bolted away without waiting for a word, disappearing into the depths of the storm.

Apparently, this horse was even more eager than him to reach Gearwheel City and meet the kingdom’s military officer.

The worst-case scenario had still come to pass.

Before Ethan could rendezvous with the town’s main forces, the witch and her minions surrounded him. Their malicious eyes had already marked him as the new sacrifice.

Yet, on the other hand, Ethan felt a slight sense of relief.

At least now he no longer had to think of excuses to persuade Ivy or calculate how many townsfolk would perish due to the witch’s disaster—if he were to stay in town, as the town clerk, he would have to participate in the subsequent consolation work.

Miss Chloe, curled up on the ground reluctantly, heard a sound behind her. Her eyes brightened, and seizing the moment the woman shifted her gaze, she broke free and ran over at lightning speed. She positioned herself in front of Ethan, crouching with a low warning growl.

“Go inside to avoid the rain, be careful not to catch a cold.”

Ethan gently stroked Chloe’s head. She tilted her neck back, looking at him with a puzzled chirp.

“Behave.”

“Goo.”

Chloe shook her neck and walked toward the cabin, glancing back every few steps.

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“Oh? Not even trying to escape?”

The woman in the black cloak sounded surprised. “I’m here because you took something of mine. I didn’t expect you’d use it on a chicken... I can tell that chicken really likes you.”

“She’s called Chloe.”

As Ethan approached, he finally saw the face beneath the cloak. The familiar visage stunned him for a moment before he blurted out, “It’s you?”

“You recognize me?”

“You’re Baron Bird’s daughter. We met at the Creekwood town’s evening gala.”

The gala was a regular event between the two towns. Every harvest season, Baron Bird would bring his wife and children to Creekwood for the celebration. Unfortunately, as the mayor of Riverside Town, he could no longer attend.

Ethan remembered this girl named Becky because of her strange behavior at the gala.

While the townsfolk shared their joy of harvest, she stayed alone in a corner, fixating on Baron Bird’s back with an eerie gaze.

According to Baron Gretten’s description, the witch was an adult woman, even more like a crone. But Becky appeared to be just a girl barely fifteen, wearing a loose cloak and soaked hair, looking quite disheveled.

“Oh, you mean Becky? She’s a poor child.”

She grinned, revealing the same creepy smile Ethan remembered. “Sickly since birth, she saw many doctors, all concluding she wouldn’t live past ten. The saddest part is she had a foolish mother who sought help from an evil god to keep her daughter alive.”

Ethan watched as she raised her right hand, pressing her index finger beneath her eyelid. The sharp nail pierced the skin, crimson blood trickling down her scarred face. “See, Becky is no longer here.”

The sight made Ethan’s scalp tingle. He felt the witch was somewhat twisted.

“But I don’t remember you.”

The witch shrugged.

“That’s better. I’m not someone worth remembering.”

“But you’re from the town. I heard a sheriff arrived recently. How did she describe me to you?”

“She said you were defeated by three second-tier knights. She thinks she can do the same.”

Unsurprisingly, the witch’s expression darkened, and she sneered, “You mean those knights who won by poisoning the water source and shamelessly painted themselves as heroes?”

“I always thought her plan was unreliable. That book, ‘The Three Knights,’ is obviously flawed!”

Ethan had been unable to voice his doubts earlier, due to Baron Gretten’s presence.

The book described many details meticulously, even how the three became knights and journeyed from the imperial capital to the frontier, with various anecdotes turned into episodic tales. Ethan had read it with fascination, until the part detailing the knights’ battle with the witch suddenly ended abruptly.

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