The white witcher who had fallen on his back on the ground stared at the woman who stood in front of him, her smile looked sweet yet daunting with her skin that kept changing back forth between being one that belonged to a human and the other being the dry, scaly cracked skin which belonged to the black witches.
"Don't look frightened, father. If you look frightened, what will the people do who come to the church for shelter?" asked the black witch, walking towards him to stand a step away from him, "Do you know this book?" she asked to bring the book for him to see.
The man looked at the book that read 'How to pot garlic and use it with its benefits'. Mythweald was a land that the black witches hadn't touched or hadn't done anything so far as the witches always ended up being stopped by the top two lands of Valeria and Bonelake, a higher concentration of the witches taking place in Wovile.
