The shadow of the werewolf seemed to hang over everyone here, so it was no wonder that when the shining silver knight appeared, these people were as excited as if they had seen the coming of God.
Dill saw a line of people in black cloaks walking by; the strange dress in the hot sun is like an anachronistic ghost, but the townspeople are as if they didn't see it and even willfully turn a blind eye to it—completely double standard treatment!
Those people should not be outsiders.
Dill started to strut around with her medicine chest.
The fact that she appeared in the marketplace with the Silver Knight had already spread throughout the town, and she was the only black-haired, black-eyed, exotic face in the town, so the journey down was quite smooth. Some people might ignore her, but no one dared to offend her.
Many of the housewives knew that Dill was a medicine man from the east coast and reacted just as Mrs. Cole did, expecting her to come up with some rare recipe to cure their minor ailments.
Dill made a lot of D-grade props along the way. In addition to Peppermint Dreams, there is also a black sweet plum throat balm that can make even a three-year-old child's mouth clear, as well as balsam grass, hops made of tranquilizing and sleeping tea, and so on.
The whole trip down to Dill can be said to be a booming business, with a pocket full of coins. [Magical Girl's Food Cupboard] also managed to come to LV5, but only except for [Order Food into Gold D] up to [Order Food into Gold C]. The level of the other skills remains unchanged.
Dill judged that this might have something to do with the strength of the blessing return; to the townspeople, those were nothing more than harmless glitches, but to Mrs. Cole, she herself had saved her daughter's life.
The journey was a busy one, and the sun cast a hot sword of light in the middle of the day, reddening the girl's cheeks from the harsh reflections.
She took the turnip to a skilful lake on the outskirts of the city, where egrets and kestrels roosted, reeds drifted along the edges, and great white geese groomed their feathers in the water, waving the moist moisture to drive away a little of the dry heat and sleepiness of the afternoon.
The herbal tea mixed with three shamrock leaves was mouth-watering, heady, and couldn't hide its secrets, and Dill had gotten quite a wealth of information along the way down.
First of all, the custom of banishing old and young women and children to the forest to be sacrificed to werewolves had been practiced in Jonestown since time immemorial, and since the conversion to the Church, this barbaric custom had disappeared into obscurity. However, according to the mill's proprietress, if the church doesn't send knights to deal with it again, she's definitely going to propose throwing the cursed Cole family into the forest.
Then there are the people who go missing whenever the werewolves appear, and the people who die from the epidemics brought by the werewolves; Mr. Cole back then died a horrible death covered in rotting pustules.
Only instead of receiving pity from the villagers, Mrs. Cole and the child, who were lucky enough to survive, thought that they had made a devil's bargain with the werewolves to survive.
Last but not least is the fact that no one has ever actually witnessed a werewolf, and the townspeople are not surprised by this, they attribute this to the Alarm Men; the black-robed group of men.
The Bellmen were a group of devotees of the church in the town, and when they detected signs of werewolves, they would ring the bells in their hands, which, along with the bells in the watchtower, would resonate, urging families to lock their doors and windows.
Dill was quite speechless at this; if human noses were that good, the wolfhounds of Caolwolson wouldn't be priced in gold coins.
In fact, she was skeptical about the matter of werewolf legends here.
The sheep on the distant hillside, the graceful geese on the lake shore, and even the old hound that watched the door were more appealing than dry, crumbly human flesh.
Wraiths think in simple, crude ways; werewolves usually attack easy prey first; animals have keen senses, especially dogs; and it's the dogs that die first. Even Cole's old hound, who lays on his back all day, gets agitated by the presence of a werewolf.
All of this was knowledge the witch had memorized until it rotted in her childhood, but there was no way she could tell the townspeople the truth.
As annoying as that old hag Oya was, she probably wasn't lying. There hadn't been a real werewolf sighting on the continent for a long time. What was left was nothing more than old legends that had been worn out, and when combined with the high death rate in this world, the shadow of a werewolf just seemed to be everywhere.
Dill told herself that she just needed to make sure that there were no werewolves here at all, and that would do it.
She could just leave, and the goddess would have even less reason to blame her, except that the buzzing still lingered, and Dill did her best to keep the uneasy foreboding under control.
The more she deliberately ignores it, the weirder things it does. Now millions of mosquitoes were buzzing in her ears in unison; it's like being directly surrounded by a thunderstorm.
Pure energy fluctuations.
Dill Sue had never felt magic so clearly before and was not at all happy about it; she had no control over the energy and could only carry it in the direction of the lapping waves.
Something bad was going to happen to that mother and daughter.
As soon as that thought came out, all murmurs vanished, and the energy that had been like a fly in the ointment caught the witch's fleeting thoughts and was finally able to coalesce into a semblance of reality.
Dill was so angry that she pulled up several stalks of grass, watching Turnip lay her wings back.
This is not a game! They always said werewolves brought disaster, but how was a witch who couldn't control her powers any better than a werewolf?
Dill tried to cheer up; at least there were no werewolves here, and she could concentrate properly on rescuing Cole's mother and daughter. Maybe she could ask Musha, the kindly Silver Knight, for help, as long as he told the villagers that there were no werewolves here and that there wasn't any evil in the air.
[shh, shh, shh]
Laurel?
Laurel didn't respond, and Dill remembered that this moon elf was dependent on the moonlight at night to reserve energy. It was now midday, the sun was scorching hot, and the moon elf had long since fallen into a deep slumber.
"It's so cozy.
"It's like soil drenched in moonlight.
The girl went in the direction of the voice.
The soft reeds were like the feathers of a white goose, and Dill felt an itch on her skin, as opposed to the disgusting mosquito sounds of Doom's inspiration, as something like a butterfly or a dragonfly sprinkled glittering phosphorus powder around her.
Catch!
Dill caught it squarely, and she closed her hand, carefully propping open a tiny slit.
Then she locked eyes with a pair of tiny green eyes.
The tiny human curled up in the young girl's palm, with a pair of dragonfly-like feathers on its back, and its skin exuded a pearly-white richness, so frightening that Dill didn't even dare to gasp for fear of accidentally harming this fragile and beautiful creature...
Elf?
It didn't seem to be afraid of Dill but was happy to see the girl.
You caught it! You caught it! Then you're the only one I'll tell!
It used a voice similar to that of the laurel, ethereal and light, as if it would be annihilated by the breeze at any moment; only it was more cheerful and joyful than the cold moon elf, seemingly ready to sing at any moment.
The black wolf is coming; everyone is hiding, and you also quickly hide it.
Before Dill could say anything, the elf made a light leap and blinked into the path of the sunlight, leaving only shallow ripples on the surface of the lake.
Dill stared at the dissipating ripples when suddenly an unfamiliar face broke the calm water surface.