Release that Witch Chapter 127 Wendy

Chapter 127: Wendy

Translator:Transn

Editor:Meh

Nightingale came out of the Mist once Roland fell asleep. She gently helped him to tidy up the blanket and covered his exposed arm. She stood quietly watching him for a moment. Then she left through the floor silently to go back to her room.

"Haven’t you slept yet?" Nightingale was slightly surprised to see Wendy still reading at the bedside.

"I’m afraid that what you’re doing is wrong!" Wendy stared at her. "His Highness isn’t a child. Is it necessary to take care of him until he falls asleep?"

"His Highness sent people to the other cities and towns to spread news of the witch organization. I’m just being cautious in case the witches intentionally come to hurt His Highness after hearing the news." Nightingale picked up a wet towel and wiped her face, before untying her red belt and leather wrist guard. Then she unbuckled her armor. This outfit was newly made by His Highness. The ivory hooded-jacket design was extremely obvious, but yet Roland thought it was very suitable for an assassin.

Nightingale carefully hung the clothes up and smoothed out every wrinkle. Her perfectly fit body was wrapped within a piece of fine gauze, and there was no fat to be found on her tight abdomen, and thighs.

"What kind of accident would there be." Wendy put down her book. "We have our sisters living in the castle and there are the guards patrolling outside the castle. Besides, haven’t you put the stone under his pillow? You’ve never touched something like that before."

"Well, I’m just doing it to ensure his safety." She sat by the side of the bed, took off her long boots, pulled her slender legs up and turned herself over beside Wendy.

"Did you even hear what I said last time?" Wendy sighed. "Veronica, we’re witches."

"I know, Wendy," Nightingale nodded and said, "We’re ’witches’".

[Prince Roland would marry a witch. He had said it himself, and he had not been lying.]

Of course, Nightingale should not disseminate this information unless it was necessary. She silently apologized to Wendy and changed the topic. "Do you have any information about the church?"

"Why do you ask this now?" Wendy was shocked.

"When Roland was in the castle of Longsong Stronghold, the high priest of the church came to visit him and expressed his willingness to support him to seize the throne."

"What did he say?" Wendy sounded nervous. "Or did Roland ask you to go out before the conversation?"

Nightingale shook her head with a smile and said softly, "He just asked me to pay attention to avoiding the range of God’s Stone of Retaliation. His Highness didn’t wear it himself. Wendy, he didn’t agree to the invitation from the church. He refused them."

Wendy was relieved, and yet seemed a little disconsolate. "Unfortunately, the amount of help we can provide to His Highness is very limited, unlike the church which has power covering the entire mainland. If he agreed with them, he could probably take over the throne more quickly..."

"Who knows. He said that the high priest was full of nonsense and not trustworthy at all." She paused. "The only concern I have is this." Nightingale narrated the incident of the red and black pills. "In the Mist, the pill has the same color as the stone, which is incredible. Our sisters have seen the result of swallowing the stone, which is no different from committing suicide. The high priest mentioned it was a kind of medicine they’re studying in the praying room of Holy City. Did you ever hear of it in the cloister?"

When the Witch Cooperation Association left Silver City, Cara brought Nightingale, Windseeker and Stone to set traps to capture villains who were chasing them for bounty and had retaliated. One of the ways was to put the God’s Stone of Retaliation they were wearing into their mouth and make them swallow it. The villains who swallowed the God’s Stone of Retaliation would die quickly, and their entire body curled up as if shrunken, just like fish dried under the hot sun.

"I have no idea," Wendy closed her eyes and said slowly, "As far back as I can remember, I was living in the cloister in the old Holy City. It was surrounded by high walls, and there were no other sights except the sky. All activities were within the courtyard, reading and interpreting drawings were both taught by the chief nun. I still remember her name, Faria. One of the books she read to us was an introduction to the old Holy City. There were churches, cloisters, libraries, memorial halls and heroic walls in the city, but there was never a place called the praying room. I lived in the cloister for more than 10 years before the accident happened..."

Nightingale had heard Wendy mention it before. The cloister had been attacked by a witch, and many people died in the accident. Wendy had escaped from the cloister during the chaos. "We’re not sure which witch had such courage to challenge the church alone, but she saved you at least."

"No, Veronica. The witch came from the church," Wendy shook her head and said, "She was just like me, a member of the cloister."

"What do you mean?"

"The girls who lived in the cloister could basically be divided into three categories. The first was like me, they grew up there and knew nothing about their origins. The second was the waifs or orphans who were sent by the churches after being adopted. And the final was the girls who were sold by their parents to the church. The managers would separate them according to their age and place them in different dormitories, and their learning content was also different. The youngest would learn how to read, 10 to 14 years old would go for caroling and the girls older than 14 would learn etiquette. The nuns called our class the literacy class, and the older ones’ the choirs and ritual classes. Once a lady becomes an adult, she was sent away from the cloister."

It was the first time Nightingale had heard this. Wendy had never discussed her experience in the cloister in detail.

"In the first few years, we could always hear the girls screaming at night, mostly the ones from the choir and ritual classes, I didn’t quite understand what was happening. Until I was in the choir class, then I noticed that there would be lords from the church patronizing the dorm in the evening. They would drag several girls from the bed away with them and only send them back in the morning. Sometimes, they were not all sent back."

Nightingale clenched her jaw. She was certain that she knew exactly what Wendy’s words meant.

"Such incident would happen once or twice a month. It became more frequent, almost once every two days. I was selected after that. Faria pulled me out of the room and whispered in my ear saying, "Just bear with it." I was dragged to a half-covered underground house in a corner of the garden. The house was ablaze with lights, and there was a girl from the ritual class cuffed to the wall and four or five people around..." Wendy’s voice was slightly jittery. "When they approached me, the girl suddenly broke the shackles and grabbed the nearest one by his neck. She snapped his head off like a chicken."

"She awakened?"

"I don’t know," said Wendy. "Though they had taken off their clothes, they still wore God’s Stone of Retaliation. She killed them one by one, and one of them had his limbs torn off. Before his death, he seemed to say ’extraordinary’. Adult screams alerted the guards outside the house. They opened the iron gate and rushed into the room, but they were bewildered. The girl charged straight into them. "

"Extraordinary... does it mean witch?" Nightingale asked, "Even the guard couldn’t fight against her?"

"The difference was too big. I learned afterwards that the guards were actually from the Judgement Army. One of them blew his whistle and the other attacked with his swords. By the time the first whistle ended, she already had her arm through the chest of the guard who was blocking her way. The armor of the church was flimsy, like a piece of paper, before her."