Serious Witch's Travel Book

"I……"

Gnicia really had nothing to say.

What can she answer?

She also didn't know why Adelia gave her a hand... Maybe it was out of friendship with fellow death row inmates?But this is wrong, the elf finally gave up on her.

She's just a poor witch who knows nothing and can't use magic.

"Don't talk?" Marianne, who was looking straight at her, licked her teeth with the tip of her tongue. She was very satisfied with Gnicia's fearful expression, which would give her a sense of accomplishment. "Is it because you don't know, or... there are other secrets?"

Why would Adelia help a woman who has only been traveling for a day?

For some reason, this had become a matter of great concern to Marianne.

She carefully looked at the woman in front of her.

About 20, maybe 25, but certainly not much older.

She looked young, with a three-point mature face, but there was an unexpected childish look between her eyebrows and eyes.

It's very contradictory... She feels like a young lady who has not been involved in the world. She has a kind of "I don't understand, I don't know, please don't ask me" spirit from the bottom of her heart.

A feeling of repulsion that is not specific to the object.

She has a good appearance, although she is a little dusty due to running around in the wilderness, but after washing, she may be the kind of woman who is more than eighty percent, and even looks better when she is dressed up.She has long fluffy and soft black hair, and those slender hairs that seem to reflect the fragility of the owner are scattered on her shoulders like a black gauze scarf.

Her complexion is very fair, much fairer than the common skin color of the imperial people, but not as dark as the barbarians, but as white and delicate as milk, with a little bit of healthy wheat color mixed in.

Marian had some doubts about her bloodline, because she really didn't look like a pure imperial person. Her overall face shape was similar to that of an imperial person, a bit round, but the corners were softer, and her chin was much sharper.To put it bluntly, she is a bit like an elf mixed with humans, because she can find some traces of the spotless and tranquil atmosphere of those druids who dream all day long, but her ears are not sharp—— Half-blood elves, their ears are always different from humans, about the length between humans and elves, but there is always a point, and there has been no exception for hundreds of years.

The more Marianne looked at her, the more beautiful she seemed to her.

She even secretly began to regret being so cruel to her just now.

If it is an ordinary person, maybe you can consider letting her be your squire, but...she is a witch, at least she is talented, and people like this will definitely be supervised by the monastery or the church, and in the worst case, they may even be supervised by the church. As a sacrifice to the angels, or pulled to the altars in various places and burned to maintain the balance of magic essence.

It's a pity to lose a pair of good-looking skins.

With such thoughts in mind, she couldn't help stretching out her hand, and slowly touched Gnicia's pink cheek with the back of her finger.

Gnicia didn't know what was going on in her mind, and our Miss Witch could only feel anxious at the moment.

Gnicia felt very uncomfortable, because her eyes seemed to be looking directly at a bright flame—from the moment Marian approached her, the small cross on the priestess' chest began to emit a light yellow halo, Its light was brighter and sharper than when Gnicia looked directly at the Holy Emblem on the chest of the female soldier before, and after it shone in her eyes, it made her feel slightly glaring.

She wanted to avoid the light, but Marianne's intimidation was inevitable; the fierce woman was stroking her cheek with her fingers, and the scene was embarrassing.

Gnicia noticed that Numeria left with the previous nun who wanted to kiss her, and now only she and the two people in front of her were left in the room. There was a delicate stalemate... until, the radiance emitted by that little cross began to gradually weaken.

Gnicia noticed that Marianne was looking at her less harshly.

Her attitude has softened a lot, although it is far from the weak posture she showed in front of Adlia, at least it can be said that she can finally treat Gnicia herself with a relatively gentle attitude.

"I've seen the roster. Your name is Gnicia?"

Gnicia nodded wordlessly.

"Very good name...you can call me Marianne, I am a nun from the Holy Tat Monastery, do you know the Holy Tat Mountain?"

Gnicia shook her head blankly.

"It's okay, it's not important. What matters is that you're in a bad situation, you understand?"

Gnicia shook her head again.

"Let's put it this way, you have the potential to use witchcraft, do you understand 'witchcraft'?"

This soft and excessive tone made Gnicia almost nod. At the last moment, she remembered the instructions of the sages - even in the unstable north, let the imperial official organization know that she has some understanding of various extraordinary powers It was still a very unsafe thing, and she forced the brakes on the nod, which turned into a stiff denial.

It was too embarrassing, but Marianne didn't care, or in other words, she didn't care much about her current mental state.

"That's okay, for a gentle and lovely big girl like you, witchcraft is really an unspeakable evil. Your talent may come from your mother, or it may be a certain ancestor of the family, But it doesn't matter, what matters is that you learn to suppress it."

Marianne stopped talking.

Gnicia can clearly realize that her attitude has indeed changed, and she has become similar to other people who have had close contact with her. If this continues, this...uh, nun...is very likely to do something further.

But Sister Marianne is different from other people, she is not so sinking.

She still maintains a considerable degree of sobriety, and she is choosing her words carefully. At least she still has enough thinking ability, and she even obviously has doubts about what she said.

"The monastery has given me such power. For those witches who haven't caused any harm or even used their own power, I can have my own arbitration space."

She looked at Gnicia, but the words seemed to be addressed to herself.

"...So, I don't care about your previous identity for the time being. It doesn't matter if you're a traitor with a red hood, a pharmacist who doesn't obey the call, or an ordinary person with witch potential...you are my captive now, I It will be responsible for supervising you and preventing you from coming into contact with those evil and filthy things... Believe me, this is for your own good."

The more she spoke, the harder she worked, and the rosiness on her face became more obvious.

At the end, she abruptly withdrew her hand, stumbled away from the edge of the bed and stood up.

She moved away from Gnicia, and the light on the little cross was almost invisible.

Repressed emotions troubled Marianne. She felt that it was natural for her to exercise the power of the head nun, but she also regretted it, thinking that Gnicia did not deserve such leniency.

but……

Ugh.

When she saw Gnicia who had shrunk to the side of the bed and hugged herself into a ball, her pitiful appearance softened her heart again.

It's just a talented person who hasn't started yet. The magic addiction she experienced should have taught her enough lessons. Marianne believes that the decisions she made are all within the reasonable range.

The woman on the bed gradually made her distorted mood that had been calmed down by the Numeria sisters stir up waves again. She is very touching, and this is what Marianne has the most chance of now... The insult to her by the giant dragon made her feel turbulent. She was ashamed and angry, and when she thought of the fact that she had succumbed to the dragon's tongue, she felt an unbearable sense of irritability all over her body.

Marianne gave her one last look, then hurried away from the place.

Immediately Gnicia was alone in the room again.

Inexplicably, Miss Witch, who had experienced another round of innocent disasters, ate two pieces of tasteless buns aggrievedly, and then drank the rest of the water.

No one came to take away the basket, and no one came to arrange something for her. Gnicia thought she had been forgotten. If it weren't for the occasional quarrels downstairs, she would have thought that everyone here had already died. Withdrew, leaving her alone here.

Gnicia, who was full, lay on the bed like a salted fish and basked in the sun for about an hour. She felt that it was not a problem to continue doing this, so she flipped through the books on the cabinet again.

The few books on the cabinet are very miscellaneous, including a record book recording the glorious deeds of the previous supreme commanders of the empire, and a small copy about flowers. What's more, she also saw a purely private note, which recorded the owner of the note. The number of intimacy with another "her" and the development and change of the sensitivity to various parts of "her" are not exaggerated to say that the owner of the notes simply regards this as learning.

She went on like this for another hour, and finally, when the sun was high and Gnicia was beginning to drowsy again in the warm autumn sun, someone came to talk to her again.

The person who came in without knocking was none other than Sister Numeria, whose name Gnicia remembered most.

"Come on." The nun stood at the door and knocked twice. "Marian asked me to ask, do you know how to make potions?"

"meeting!"

Gnicia sat up with a jolt.

She responded completely instinctively—when she was with Adlia and the others, she clearly saw the sages telling her in magical words that suddenly appeared in front of her eyes, that she revealed her first identity as a witch. item ability.

【The Way of Potion】.

Although it is a bit nonsensical and has not been interpreted authoritatively, Gnicia is sure that the sages will not deceive her, so she should be in the "magic medicine" It is right to be good at this aspect.

Potions and potions... sound similar, don't they?It's not that potions have to be put into a pot to make a frog...

The only doubt was that what she was wearing was not the clothes she wore when she left the church. If she wasn't wearing a witch's outfit, would she be able to concoct potions normally?

But Numeria didn't care about Gnicia's hesitation. The nun made a "please" gesture with her hands and told her: "Come and help, we have a lot of wounded patients to take care of, if you do a good job, Mary Ann will seek clemency for you from the Abbey."

Chapter 30 025. Female liar?

After promising Numeria that she would not flee, Gnicia's shackles were released.

She was taken out of the room, and Numeria gave her time to wash up, and found her a decent coat. It was a simple gray full-length robe, like a... Mrs. Gnicia I think it looks like something worn by a cook. You can't see any curves at all. It's not good-looking at all, but it can really wrap your body tightly.

Then, she followed Numeria through a corridor and came to a platform with guardrails.

Here it is on the second floor—or rather, the second floor of a church.

From a structural point of view, they came out of the living area at the back of the church where the missionaries rest. There is a small hall alone at the entrance of the church. In the hall, only a stone plate for holding holy water is placed. It is facing the small podium on the central passage of the whole hall. It was a simple indoor terrace, where they were standing now.

The dome of the church is very high, and it looks like a triangular spire from the front. There are a row of tall stone windows on the left and right at the intersection of the roof and the wall for ventilation and lighting.

It was just after noon, bright sunlight shone into the hall from the stone window on one side of the wall, the first thing Gnicia noticed was a huge red curtain in front of her, which was fixed on the balcony. On the armrest, the small half of the wall behind the podium is covered from a high point downwards. It is a red flag, and the "Ω" symbol symbolizing the universal Catholic Church is painted in the middle with gold paint. Jiu Yuan became a little dim, but still did not lose its majesty.

A standard Anglican church.

Within the empire, every small-scale settlement will have such a small church, which symbolizes the authority of the state religion and brings holy blessings to every citizen.

The church is an indispensable thing for an imperial town. Even if it is necessary to simplify the layout due to the poverty of the area, it generally means reducing the living quarters of the monks to only one floor, and sometimes adopts an all-wooden structure, but the holy baptistery in the foyer, As the main body, the sanctuary, the preaching platform, the ceremonial room for the clergy, and a bell pavilion are absolutely indispensable.

It was supposed to be a clean place, but what Gnicia saw on the second floor was not the case.

A lot of wounded people gathered in the hall of the church. They were lying or crookedly distributed on the chairs of the church and the surrounding corridors. At a glance, there were at least 30 to [-] people.

The conditions of these people are not very optimistic, at least they have obvious wounds and blood stains on their bodies, some of them are unable to stand up normally, unconscious people are lying on chairs or carpets, and some disabled people carry their terrible severed limbs Sitting dejectedly on the church floor, blood still oozing from their bandages, filled the sanctuary with a sad smell of blood.

Gnicia, who had relaxed a little at being free, froze quickly.

She felt a little awkward.

Sister Numeria, who was a little tired, stood on the edge of the terrace and greeted another nun below: "Nora, where is Sister Marianne?"

"She went back to the barracks. Those barbarians haven't left yet. She is trying to find a way to recruit enough militia."

Sister Numeria looked at Gnicia beside her, and said to her, "I'll see if this pharmacist can make wound medicine. If I can spare, I'll help you."

"No need - I hope you can make more wound medicine. I have arranged some townspeople who are willing to take risks to go out to pick herbs. If they can come back on time, I'm afraid you will only feel that there are not enough people."

While talking, the nun who was busy on the first floor raised her hand to wipe the corner of her eyes, and Gnicia noticed that her hands were covered with blood.

Even though she was far away, the dark red blood still made her shrink back.

She looked down, and the remaining four nuns were on the first floor of the church, and some people dressed as civilians were helping them. These people scooped out gray-green dry powder from several small clay pots and applied them to the wounds of the soldiers. , and then carefully wrap the wound with a hemostatic bandage.This process obviously involved pain. The soldiers with deep wounds let out low howls of pain when they got the powder, which made Gnicia's scalp numb when she was hiding on the second floor.

"Come with me."

Sister Numeria gave her a hand, and the two returned to the back room of the church one after the other.

There are quite a few rooms at the back of the church. Although there is only one corridor in the middle, the two rows and the corner seem to be divided into more than ten single rooms. They seem to be rooms for accommodation. Gnicia was also locked in the front end before. In a room where only the forest can be seen on the street; Numeria walked quickly, and they hurried to the corridor leading down the wall. Gnicia heard the door open, and when she looked back, it was The little girl looked out again.

She seemed a little frightened by the occasional screams outside, and she didn't dare to come out of the room; Gnicia was also frightened, and if she could, she wished she could hide with the little girl.

The stairs are at the end of the church, and the back door is on the right hand side.Numelia led her out, and the outside was surrounded by a wall as high as half a person... well, it was probably a flower garden, not a vegetable garden... It was close to the river on one side, and a room on the other. The big shed is very simple, but there are two tables and a pile of various bottles and cans in the shed, as well as a very large wooden barrel. It seems that this is the terminal of Numeria up.

"It's a bit crude," the nun pointed to the various things in the shed. "However, I also know a thing or two about pharmacy. I think it should be no problem to make some basic wound medicine... Let's come together, do you have a special formula?"

"I... uh..."

The nun moved very neatly. She washed her hands in a basin of clear water, wiped them with a clean cloth, and then went directly to the desk to start working.

Gnicia followed her to the table.

The trouble is big.

She didn't know what she was thinking yesterday, so she used her identity as a cover-up—maybe she wanted to follow the elf's words at the time, after all, as far as she knew, it was almost time for a pharmacist to be censored by the empire as a witch It was a daily problem, and it was very convenient to use it to excuse myself-but now someone by accident wanted her to really do her "old job", and Gnicia immediately felt worried.

What should she do, how should she do it?

Judging from what Numeria meant, she probably asked her to help make some hemostatic wound medicine. It sounds like a very simple matter, but when it is really your turn to deal with it, you are completely helpless. Gnicia has no idea what it is Things can be used to make medicine, let alone what steps are used to process those finished medicines.

She stood at the table, the shame of being powerless and deceitful made her almost recite it without a breath.

She didn't dare to tell Numeria that she didn't know anything, so she had to bite the bullet and start observing the nuns' actions, trying to follow the example of the gourd, at least to fool her first.

And Noumelia was very focused after she started working. She didn't stare at Gnicia all the time, but put almost all her attention on her work: she looked at the work from a rough grid placed at the corner of the table. I took a few dried grass branches off the grid combination wooden board, took another wooden bowl, and then started to chop them on the small chopping board with a knife.

Gnicia noticed that she had placed the same board as the nun's, she hesitated for a moment, and grabbed a piece of hay that looked similar.

"...You'd better not." Numelia, who had been lowering her head, suddenly said, "That's a laurel plant. If you don't know much about potions, you'd better not touch it."

Gnicia put down the herb in embarrassment, thinking that Numeria seemed to be saying that this thing was precious in disguise, so she quickly squeezed it and put it back in place.

She moved very carefully, but the herb that was sun-dried like dead leaves in late autumn still shattered a lot while she was holding it. She lowered her head and secretly gathered the broken parts, and then took advantage of her efforts Melia didn't pay attention and put them next to the dried laurel.

So... what should I use?

She didn't dare to touch it, but instead straightened her neck to see how Numeria's nuns picked and processed it. She quickly recognized the herb that the nuns chose—a kind of herb with pointed leaves and thin stems. Long meandering plants.

Gnicia braced herself and picked out the same herb according to the shape.

She wasn't sure if she picked the right one, so she looked in the direction of Numelia again. Although the nun had already chopped all the herbs she picked into fine dregs, a wonderful intuition secretly reminded Ganesh Ya: She should be right this time.

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