The Stereotype of Witches

The carriage rolled forward leisurely.

The bustling city could already be seen in the distance.

However, before reaching Olie City, Xia Lun and his party were stopped.

"Halt! Olie City has been sealed off. No one is allowed in or out!"

Two soldiers crossed their spears, blocking Xia Lun and the others. Through the gaps in their iron helmets, their stern expressions were visible.

Had the situation escalated to the point of complete isolation?

The state of Olie City was even worse than Xia Lun had anticipated.

"We're here to accept the lord's commission. We're willing to gather the Dragon's Blood Flowers," Liyana stated their purpose.

The soldiers exchanged glances, inspected Xia Lun and his companions' identification badges, and slowly lowered their spears.

"We'll escort you to the lord's manor… Beyond that, you are not permitted to interact with anyone in the city."

"Of course, no problem."

Xia Lun and the others understood well—if the plague here spread, countless lives could be lost.

Along the way, they didn’t remain idle, probing the soldiers for information about the city. Since they were here to help, the soldiers answered freely.

"Even the priests of the Goddess Church can’t cure this plague?" Musen asked in a muffled voice.

"The plague spreads too quickly. The priests can heal some… but their energy is limited. Without a more efficient treatment, the number of patients will only grow," the soldier replied, his expression grim. "And not everyone can afford the treatment. Even with the lord’s subsidies, it’s barely a drop in the bucket…"

The city was eerily empty, with no one in sight on the streets—like a ghost town.

Every household had its doors tightly shut, windows locked, curtains drawn, revealing nothing of what lay inside.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Despite the bright sunshine, the city seemed shrouded in gloom.

Even the usually lively Liyana stayed quiet, saying nothing.

Moke, the thief, instinctively tensed, his footsteps nearly silent as he scanned their surroundings.

"Has the source of the plague been found?" Xia Lun asked.

The soldier’s eyes flashed with disgust. "Yes. A dying noble, desperate to prolong his life, attempted to summon some evil deity in his home… His corpse became the source of contamination, and the plague spread outward from his estate."

"And now?"

"The estate was burned to the ground under the lord’s orders. Nothing remains," the soldier answered.

"What an idiot," Liyana finally interjected. "What did he think an evil deity was?"

Aina remarked coolly, "The world never runs short of fools."

"How did you discover that Dragon’s Blood Flowers can cure the plague?" Xia Lun pressed.

"It was the lord’s daughter, Lady Ankula, who proposed the solution," the soldier replied, a hint of pride in his voice. "Though young, she’s already a distinguished witch—the brightest jewel of Olie City."

A witch?

The image of a woman in a pointed hat, stirring a bubbling cauldron with a silver spoon, strange ingredients bobbing in the froth…

No, that was more like a crone.

Xia Lun shook his head, dispelling the stereotype.

Witches were generally neutral figures. Healing potions were their invention, now indispensable to adventurers… but they also brewed deadly poisons, favored by assassins.

The soldiers led Xia Lun’s group to the lord’s manor.

There, Xia Lun met Anglie Nuolini, lord of Olie City.

Anglie was a burly man nearing fifty, with the build of a former adventurer—his muscles nearly rivaling Musen’s.

Yet the exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable; the plague had taken its toll.

"A Level 1 adventuring party?"

His gaze dimmed slightly at the sight of Xia Lun and his companions. To him, they seemed far too young.

"Thank you for coming… but I must warn you—this commission may pit you against pure-blooded chromatic dragons. You know what that means. Even high-rank warriors and mages struggle to survive such encounters. For your safety, I advise against recklessly accepting this task."

Anglie sighed, disappointment creeping into his voice. "Still, I’ll reimburse your travel expenses. Please leave as soon as possible."

"Though we’re a newly formed party, we’re far stronger than you think. Don’t underestimate us, old man," Liyana huffed. "Xia Lun is a mighty warrior blessed by the Goddess, and Aina’s power surpasses even high-rank mages…"

Anglie blinked. "Is that so? Sir Xia Lun, you’re a chosen champion of the Goddess?"

If he bore divine blessings, his strength couldn’t be measured by ordinary standards.

Liyana smirked. "Heh. Dawn’s Wings—the party that’ll one day slay the Demon King!"

Ever since Musen mentioned the Demon King, Liyana had taken to declaring it at every opportunity.

Anglie’s face flickered with doubt and resignation.

Boastful adventurers were a dime a dozen, especially among the young and inexperienced.

Still, if they insisted on taking the commission, he wouldn’t stop them. For Anglie, it was a glimmer of hope.

"The Dragon’s Blood Mountains lie about two hundred miles from Olie City. Many drakes dwell there, and pure-blooded wyrms nest atop the highest peaks," Anglie explained. "Two Level 3 parties and one Level 4 have already accepted this commission… but all vanished after heading into the mountains."

Moke stroked his chin. A Level 4 party should have several high-rank experts. If even they failed, no wonder the task remained unfulfilled.

Anglie studied Xia Lun, silently offering a final chance to back out.

Xia Lun remained expressionless.

With an inward sigh, Anglie continued.

Just then, someone burst through the door.

"Are you the adventurers taking the commission? I’m coming with you!"