The sudden interrogation caught Lynn off guard.
As a few figures approached, Lynn instantly recognized the leader—Jonny, the very person he had been searching for.
The young woman beneath the black robe appeared to be around twenty, with an unusual mane of silver-gray hair and eyes of a bright, gem-like blue.
Perhaps due to constantly evading pursuit, Jonny had grown noticeably thinner since their last encounter, her face now pale with an almost sickly pallor.
"I don't understand your meaning, Jonny!" Lynn's tone was unwavering, resolute, without the slightest hint of doubt. Armed with all of his predecessor's memories, he was certain that Karl had done nothing treacherous.
At most, Karl may have entertained some thoughts, but nothing that would have justified living in fear, hiding in the slums.
"Where is your sword?" The gray-haired witch continued her questioning.
It was only then that Lynn noticed Jonny's gaze fixed on the longsword in his grip. After a moment's thought, he understood the problem.
"The weapon in your hand is typically used by Witch Hunters!" the burly apprentice, Buck, exclaimed in agitation.
"Of course, it's a trophy. Is there a problem with that, Buck?" Lynn replied calmly, though cold sweat dripped down his back.
He had been carrying around this ticking time bomb for days!
But it wasn't entirely his fault for not being cautious—his personal short sword had been lost in the slums, and he couldn't just discard a perfectly usable weapon, could he?
Moreover, Karl's memories didn't include any information on Witch Hunters being equipped with standard-issue weapons.
Considering he hadn't encountered any trouble thus far, it was clear that very few knew of this fact. But it was something Old York from the Drunkard's Tavern had certainly known.
No wonder when he'd tried to buy some ancient Rolwine, the man had given him every excuse to avoid making the sale—Old York must have tipped off Jonny and the others.
"A trophy? Are you claiming you killed a Witch Hunter and took his sword?" Buck sneered. "Karl, if I'm not mistaken, you can't even master the most basic spell, *Frost Blade*. You could have come up with a better story."
As minions of the Church, Witch Hunters were the elite among elites, far superior to ordinary people. They usually operated in small squads, and even fully-fledged witches found them difficult to handle.
For apprentices like them, surviving an encounter with one was already a miracle.
"Sometimes strength isn't everything, Buck," Lynn shook his head. "By the way, it's been four months since we last met, hasn't it?"
As he spoke, Lynn extended his hand, manipulating the hydrogen and oxygen in the surrounding air, swiftly lowering the temperature to condense them.
In an instant, a diamond-shaped ice blade materialized before everyone's eyes—its shape bizarre, yet strangely beautiful.
The other witch apprentices froze in surprise—not because of the blade's unusual form, but because of Lynn's incredible speed!
Before becoming a full-fledged witch, it was impossible to engrave spell slots in one's mind, making it a challenge to quickly complete the complex steps of casting a spell.
After all, in real combat, enemies wouldn't stand idly by while you finished casting. For an ordinary apprentice, taking less than two seconds to prepare a spell was already considered proficient.
Yet Lynn had compressed the entire process to about one second. Though the ice blade's form wasn't the perfect Corru configuration, it was enough to make everyone take notice.
"And besides, I doubt the Church would allow a witch to become a Witch Hunter and grant them the appropriate weapon..." Lynn countered before anyone could react.
Buck was at a loss for words. The Church's stance towards witches was clear—they would rather kill the wrong person than let one slip away. Allowing a witch, who had been "corrupted by demons," to become a Witch Hunter would be a blasphemy against God...
The other apprentices seemed to understand this as well, and their hostility towards Lynn diminished.
Jonny, however, remained cautious, turning to one of the others and asking, "Have you checked the area, White Dove?"
"There's no one surrounding us..." the cloaked figure replied timidly, shrinking into her black robe.
With a clear response, Jonny finally turned to Lynn and apologized. "I'm sorry, Karl, but the situation is dire, and we have to be careful."
"So, you were just suspicious of me, ready to kill without any evidence?" Lynn questioned.
"I assure you, the magic was only a test. No one here wishes to harm a comrade," Jonny explained earnestly.
Lynn stared into her pale golden eyes, finding no trace of deceit or evasion. Yet during the earlier attack, he had distinctly felt the presence of danger.
However, considering that his own innocence wasn't fully established and that his senses weren't foolproof, Lynn chose not to reveal this to the others.
Compared to the other apprentices, he had spent the least amount of time under Corru's tutelage, making him the least trustworthy among them.
After a pause, Lynn pushed down his displeasure and asked, "What happened? I need an explanation..."
"Follow me first. This isn't the place to talk. The recent battle might have exposed our location!" Jonny gave Lynn an apologetic look before leading the group back to their base under the cover of night.
When the full moon hung high above, an abandoned, desolate village appeared before Lynn's eyes.
"This village was wiped out by a group of mercenaries during Duke Nordland's last conquest. Now, apart from us, it's only inhabited by wild beasts," Jonny sighed, muttering quietly to herself. "Damn those nobles, damn the Church, damn the war..."
Lynn looked at Jonny with a hint of surprise. He wasn't shocked by her words but found it odd, considering that most of those present were likely of noble birth. Was it really appropriate to speak like that?
Despite her apparent disdain for the nobility, Jonny still chose an abandoned noble's estate as their temporary base.
Ravaged by war, the once-grand estate had long lost its former glory. The entire manor now stood on the brink of collapse, surrounded by ruins and shattered walls.
The interior was no better—cobwebs covered the crumbling walls, and overturned chairs were thick with dust, filling the air with a musty stench.
But this was still a noble's residence, designed to withstand the ravages of war. The vast manor was practically a small fortress, complete with guard posts and even a separate drainage system, meaning they at least wouldn't have to worry about water.
Upon entering the estate, Lynn quickly spotted another apprentice, Barton, who had been left behind to guard the place.
In stark contrast to his burly brother, Buck, Barton was almost skeletal—so thin that a gust of wind might blow him over.
Jonny and the others busied themselves moving debris to seal the entrance. Before Lynn could ask anything, Jonny spoke up.
"Kent is dead."
Kent? Lynn was momentarily taken aback, but after sifting through his memories, he remembered Kent as Corru's third apprentice, the only one absent. He hadn't expected the guy to be dead.
"On the same day our master was captured by the Church, Nordland's soldiers raided Kent's hiding place. Buck, Barton, and Will were also pursued, though White Dove managed to evade capture due to her unique abilities," Jonny explained.
"Unique abilities?"
Lynn's gaze instinctively turned to White Dove, the apprentice in question.
She appeared absurdly young, no more than thirteen or fourteen, not even reaching his shoulder. Her yellowish face was dotted with sparse freckles, and her tangled hair fell messily around her as she crouched in a corner, feeding a few gray crows.
Connecting this to the caws he had heard at the tavern, Lynn quickly deduced that she likely possessed some form of animal-controlling magic.
"I suspect someone betrayed us, allowing the Church to pinpoint our hiding places," Jonny said with concern.
"How many people knew our locations?" Lynn asked the most crucial question.
As witches hunted by the Church, they would never reveal their whereabouts lightly. This meant that very few people could have known, making the list of suspects short.
Jonny fell silent for a moment, then shook her head. "In theory, only the few of us here should have known."
"Could it have been the master..." Buck hesitated, voicing the thought.
"Impossible!" Jonny's gaze sharpened as she cut him off with absolute certainty.
Buck immediately fell silent.
Lynn didn't dwell on the matter but instead asked the next question that concerned him most.
"So, what's our plan now?"
Lynn was beginning to regret seeking out these witch apprentices. He had assumed that, though they were being pursued, they would at least be stable internally. Even if they couldn't lead him to another full-fledged witch, they could have been valuable allies.
But now it seemed that might not be the case.
If Jonny didn't have a reliable plan to evade the Church, he would find a way to leave the group.
For Lynn, traveling alone would be far safer than staying with a bunch of bumbling companions.
Buck and Will both turned to Jonny, as did White Dove, who paused her feeding of the gray crows.
During their time on the run from the Church, they had repeatedly asked Jonny the same question, but she had always evaded it, insisting on waiting until they were all together to reveal the plan.
This time, Jonny didn't hesitate and responded smoothly. "We're going to sail across the Misty Sea and head to