### Chapter 32: Ambushed
“The Gate of Truth!? Those are the lunatics who worship demons, right?!”
Carlos said this with an utterly indifferent tone, but his words drained the color from the dean’s and the hunter’s faces faster than a bad snack.
“Yup.”
“How did these heretics get mixed up with an orphanage trade caravan?”
“Not sure yet, but they clearly aren’t newcomers to this scheme. The few who we dragged out of the underground prison have been at it for about six months, or so I hear. Super simple operation: they just wait at a place, someone tips them off about the address, provides them with the goods, ensuring a safe delivery, and the pay is quite the paycheck.”
Carlos casually scanned the faces of everyone present before continuing.
“In this trade caravan heading to Winter City, there were only two actual heretics. They bit the dust when we caught their stuff. The rest are just unscrupulous merchants looking to fatten their pockets; they don’t even sacrifice bl**d, so they hardly qualify as members of the Gate of Truth.”
“Funny enough, I was at the parish then and ran into Mr. Carlos, who had just finished interrogating some prisoners. We came over together after discussing this matter. Mr. Dean and Mr. Hunter, I don’t think that was just a coincidence. The orphanage’s supply routes might have been infiltrated by heretics. If that’s the case, it suggests that inside the Church…”
Charles didn’t finish his sentence but gave everyone a meaningful glance, then fell silent.
“But, I don’t understand! How could this happen?” The dean wiped cold sweat from his forehead, panic creeping into his voice. “Aren’t those heretics usually active in the Eastern Continent? How could they have anything to do with the orphanage?”
“The orphanage’s supplies mostly rely on the Church’s licensed channels, so inspections are a lot simpler; it’s nearly impossible for them to get exposed.”
“But I still can’t fathom it! What would those lunatics want to deliver Lotus Seed Grass to the orphanage for?”
“Heretics are desperate and dangerous—most of them are just people who can’t get by. If they were trying to secretly lurk in the Western Continent and do something under the Church’s nose, the orphanage would be a perfect point of operation. Lotus Seed Grass is a lucrative business; even with terrible risks, they have every reason to do it.”
“The merchants supplying the orphanage are all designated by the Church. How could anyone sneak in?”
“That’s what we need to find out next.”
“Mr. Carlos, Mr. Charles, you all aren’t suspecting me, are you?”
“Suspecting you is a bit strong, but this is serious. We just need Mr. Dean’s cooperation.”
“How can I cooperate with you?”
“Who used to be responsible for receiving goods at the orphanage?”
“I usually have the caregivers or the clerics do it… There isn’t a fixed person; everyone helps out when they have the time, and sometimes I go myself.”
“What about the list of merchants who used to deliver supplies?”
“I have it—it’s in my cabinet.”
“Let me go with you to check out those lists.”
“Alright.”
“These lunatics surely wouldn’t only focus on the Winter City line; other merchants in different places might be in trouble too. I need to inform Sister Teresa about this quickly; tonight, I’ll take the children to the parish to record everything and return first thing tomorrow. Please take this seriously, everyone. Before things spiral out of control, we must quickly trace the source and suppress it. I suspect their motives are about more than just gold coins… In short, Cataloma must not be affected.”
“Then let’s head back to the workshop and report this ASAP.”
“Remember, this must stay confidential. Mr. Hunter only needs to report to the Duke.”
“Got it.”
Charles hurriedly jumped onto the war chariot with three children and left.
The two hunters exchanged greetings with me before heading back to the workshop.
The dean called the caregivers to move the boxes to the nearby orphanage. At this moment, Carlos turned to me and said, “Little Shay, want to join me?”
But I wasn’t planning to pay him any mind.
Checking lists is such a boring task; who would want to do that? As long as I knew the kids were fine, I couldn’t care less about the Church and those heretics.
Just give it to Carlos!
Having been there so long—exercising, getting worked up, and then listening to them drone on—I felt oddly drained and wanted a snack.
Dinner hadn’t even happened yet.
Thinking about it made me a bit grumpy as I rubbed my belly.
I’m hungry.
Time to head back.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!”
Hearing Carlos’ annoying voice again, I turned around and shot him a d*ath stare, quickly striding forward and kicking a fist-sized lump of snow on the ground.
Then, like nothing ever happened, I continued walking away.
“… Are you mad, Stingy?”
I faintly heard Carlos mumbling behind me, and my steps faltered slightly.
… Who are you calling Stingy?!
He dared to insult me!
I instinctively wanted to snap back, but then I remembered I just decided not to talk to him.
So I gritted my teeth and scampered along, practically wanting to run.
A few steps later, I heard him call out, “Do you even know the way…? Hey, wait, this is for you!”
Huh? I turned back, confused, just in time to see a golden-glinted item flying toward me.
Instinctively, I caught it mid-air and looked at what it was—something that Carlos had been toying with the whole time, resembling a token.
“This is a Church edict; keep it safe.”
I pouted.
… Che.
I thought it was chocolate or something—how disappointing.
“Be careful on your way back.”
Like I’d forget that.
…
Moonlight cast shadows.
The sky began to gently sprinkle snow again.
On my way back, I didn’t want to ride in a war chariot, nor was I hoping to.
Strolling alone through the snowy night, with little on my mind, just enjoying the walk.
It had been too long since I experienced such a feeling.
I looked around at the tempting snowy scenery and noticed there were hardly any people in the streets.
It seemed like the nightlife in this world wasn’t particularly vibrant. The lively adventurers’ guilds and treasure-laden dungeons from stories seemed non-existent.
Well, that much was obvious.
Places like taverns should exist, and if I get the chance, I could check one out to experience the ambience of a fantasy world bar.
Although my tolerance for alcohol isn’t great, I figured as long as I took it easy, it should be fine, right?
Hmm… maybe another time.
Adjusting the skirt of my outfit, I lifted my feet and hopped onto the narrow ledge, carefully walking forward, arms outstretched for balance.
Fluffy snowflakes danced down onto my furry shoulder and atop my furry little head.
Suddenly, a playful impulse struck me. I conjured frost magic and froze the ledge into ice, then pushed off powerfully.
“Hey!”
I glided forward, expecting to slide all the way down the street, but I stumbled just a meter in and fell flat on my face.
“Eek—”
My little hands flailed in the air, and then I landed sitting on the ground.
The ground wasn’t dirty; the snow felt soft and slightly cold.
I glanced around, relieved to find no one was watching, and then stood up, brushing the snow off my skirt.
The ledge was way too dangerous; the ground should be safe though, right?
Once again, vapor rose from beneath my feet, and in an instant, the snow in front turned into a shiny sheet of ice. I crouched and ran a couple of steps, then “whoosh”—I slid right across it.
This is fun!
“Giggling—”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I continued sliding until I unexpectedly bumped into someone around the corner.
The person appeared to be a local resident; I had no idea what they were doing outside at this hour. Their expression shifted rapidly from shock to amazement upon seeing me, and then they chuckled.
“Pfft.”
My face instantly flushed.
So embarrassing!
“Little girl, you must be from the Duke’s family. Why are you still out here, having so much fun so late?”
“Uh, just heading back.”
“Want me to walk you home?”
“No thanks, Uncle!”
“Well, be careful then, don’t play around too much; hurry back home.”
“… Okay.”
I huffed and lowered my head, quickening my small steps to get away.
The path became much quieter after that.
Winter City is massive, but its layout isn’t complicated. Shanter Castle looms prominently at the foot of the snow mountain in the northern part of the city, easily spotted from a distance. As long as you’re not a wandering green algae-brained fool, you don’t have to worry about getting lost with your eyes shut.
After crossing a few wide streets, I arrived at a small square.
I had passed this place when riding the war chariot; I was pretty close to Shanter Castle now.
In the center of the square stood a five-meter tall statue that vaguely resembled Duke Skarlij. I stepped up to the statue, extending my pale hand to brush off the snow from its base, revealing an inscription.
“When I dreamt of changing the world, I didn’t realize that the most important change was actually within myself. — A message from Alsace to the Winter Moon.”
Huh? Alsace!
Did I walk into the wrong scene?
I gasped, quickly cleaning the snow around the inscription, revealing another line underneath.
“Remember the creator of the Central Workshop, the great grandfather Alsace. — Skarlij.”
This… how do I even phrase this?
Isn’t there someone called Frostmourne among the twelve moon blades in the Central Workshop?
Heh.
I shook my head, tossing out those ridiculous thoughts, then stood up.
Suddenly, I heard a faint twang of a bowstring from afar.
What was that sound?
In the next moment, something whizzed past with a whoosh.
Still in a daze, my body reacted first; I quickly lifted my right leg and sidestepped.
Whoosh—
A crossbow bolt zipped by my cheek, leaving a rush of wind before clanging against the statue’s base and bouncing off to leave a noticeable white mark.
I widened my eyes.
