What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 34 The Witch's Scheme

Hag! ?

Avel stared at Aunt Ethel, his crimson eyes filled with disbelief.

She couldn't believe that the frail-looking old woman in front of her was actually the cunning and treacherous witch from the rumors.

When Aunt Ethel heard Richard expose her identity, she didn't show the slightest anger. Instead, she looked at him with even more admiration.

She no longer disguised herself; her withered skin turned a ghostly green, covered with tumors and moles, her long, thin nails resembled sharp claws, and her emaciated body was wrapped in a tattered black cloak.

"Oh, what a clever man!"

"The baby you will give birth to will surely be both beautiful and intelligent!"

Her words still revolved around the baby, as if that was her eternal obsession.

Richard astutely grasped the meaning behind that statement.

This old hag wasn't just spouting nonsense.

She is really plotting something famous.

What about his and Aiver's... descendants?

When Avel saw Aunt Ethel reveal her ugly true form, his eyes were filled with disgust, and he gripped his staff tightly.

"Come in and sit down, my dear little star."

"I said I would repay your kindness."

Aunt Ethel pushed open the door, extending her withered, bony hand with eerie green claws, gesturing for her to come in.

Avel looked hesitant, but seeing Richard's determined steps, he gritted his teeth and followed him inside.

The moment he stepped into the wooden house, Avel was suddenly stunned.

The scene inside the house was completely different from the witch's lair she had imagined.

There were no hanging mummies, no glass jars containing soaked eyeballs, and no altars made of infant skulls.

They couldn't even smell the nauseating stench of blood and decay outside.

On the contrary, the room was decorated neatly and comfortably, and even looked somewhat cozy.

The interior space is not large.

The walls are made of smooth, round logs, coated with a layer of transparent resin, and the floor is covered with a finely woven wool carpet that is soft and comfortable to walk on.

In the center of the room stood an exceptionally thick iron oak tree.

The tree is about ten feet in diameter, with dark brown bark covered with grooves like the wrinkles of an old man.

The fireplace was on the left side of the room, the fire crackling and burning not ordinary firewood, but some kind of fragrant wood that emitted a faint aroma.

The only slightly unusual thing in the entire room was the few embroideries hanging on the wall.

The embroidery on it doesn't depict flowers, plants, birds, or animals.

It's a portrait of a baby!

Each embroidery depicts a baby of a different race: human, elf, dwarf, and even a dragonborn baby...

"Sit down, sit down."

The witch reverted to her kind old woman form, Aunt Ethel, and brought out two teacups, warmly welcoming the two.

Would you like some tea?

"I grew them all myself."

Richard slowly sat down in the wicker chair, but did not touch the tea on the table.

After a moment's hesitation, Avel stood still beside Richard, not wanting to get too close to the witch.

Aunt Ethel, seeing this, let out a chilling giggle.

"What a vigilant little girl."

"Don't worry, there's no poison in the tea. How could I bear to harm you!"

Avel did not lower her guard because of Aunt Ethel's sweet talk; the fate of the Tifflin woman outside the door was the best warning.

Aunt Ethel turned to look at Richard, her dim eyes conveying a meaningful look.

"Now that you've found this place, you must have something to ask of us?"

Let me guess.

She picked up her teacup, took a sip of tea, and then stuck out her forked black tongue, licking her lips with lingering satisfaction.

"The druids in the Greenwoods have been poisoned with the Wither Potion, and you've come here to find the antidote."

"Right?"

Avel suddenly looked up.

"How did you know!"

Aunt Ethel's eyes gleamed with cunning, and her voice was hoarse and sinister.

"Because that bottle of withering potion was the one I sold to Moke!"

She paused, a hint of regret flashing across her face.

"It's just a pity that he was dragged into hell by the devil before he could repay my debt."

"What a pathetic, short-lived wretch!"

Upon hearing that the tragedy in the Greenwoods was caused by the green hag in front of him, Avel frowned deeply and gripped his staff tightly.

Richard looked at Aunt Ethel, his voice calm, seemingly unsurprised.

Do you have the antidote?

Aunt Ethel put down her earthenware teacup, her thin, bony fingers tapping lightly on the rough coffee table as she spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Of course, my dear little star."

"Only I can cure the poisonous effects of the withering potion!"

Richard listened in silence.

He had heard about the witches' methods from Grand Druid Loth; they never helped anyone for free.

Behind every act of aid lies a carefully designed trap, a twisted word game, or an even more terrifying long-term cost.

"So, what are your conditions?"

As he spoke, Richard's arm under the tea table tensed slightly, and a sacred, crimson-gold light quietly flowed around it.

The table is set for negotiations.

Beneath the surface lies a military force ready to erupt at any moment!

Aunt Ethel clearly sensed Richard's subtle actions.

Her dim, yellowish eyes shifted slightly, glancing at Richard's glowing right fist under the table, before she grinned with a chilling smile.

Then, she gave a completely unexpected answer.

"No, no, no..."

"You think too badly of me. I've said it before, I'll make up for your kindness."

"This antidote is a free gift to you!"

As he spoke, he pulled out a delicate medicine bottle the size of a palm from his pocket.

The bottle was filled with a viscous liquid that emitted a faint green glow.

The flames in the fireplace crackled and danced.

Richard and Avel were clearly caught off guard by her actions.

Although it's unclear what she's planning, it's clearly not the repayment of a debt of gratitude she claims to be doing.

It was just a black bear; if the two hadn't unexpectedly appeared, it might have already died at the hands of the witch.

Seeing that Richard didn't react, Aunt Ethel said in a hoarse voice.

"Don't worry, this antidote is fine."

"Those pedantic and boring druids are not worth my time to frame."

Before he could finish speaking...

Richard had already taken the medicine from her hand, uncorked the bottle, and brought it close to his nose to take a gentle sniff.

"Your Excellency Richard!"

When Avel saw Richard's actions, his heart nearly stopped, and he quickly spoke up.

Three breaths later.

Richard re-corked the bottle.

"The antidote is fine."

He could feel that pure life-purifying energy.

After putting the potion into his dimensional bag, Richard didn't get up and leave immediately. Instead, he picked up the woman from outside the door.

"And that Tiftlin woman, we're taking her with us too!"

Aunt Ethel squinted her eyes, hesitated for only a moment, and then readily agreed.

Her kind and generous appearance makes it impossible to associate her with the cunning and treacherous witch.

"The deal is done," he said to Aunt Ethel. "We should go now."

Although the Green Ghost Woman has not yet shown any ill will towards the two, such unpredictable schemes are often more dangerous.

As Richard and his companion got up to leave, Aunt Ethel did not try to stop them, but the smile on her face was meaningful.

"Oh, my dear little star, be careful."

"We'll see each other again soon!"