She Is Not a Witch

Bard jumped down from the delivery cart wearing an old leather coat. It was already evening.

He had been out delivering goods with some workers during the day and missed the time when wages were handed out, so he was only returning to the winery now.

One of the foremen at the winery gave him his portion of the money, briefly explaining why it was less than before, then had someone take the cart inside as they prepared to close up for the night.

Bard felt uneasy about why the Nisos family was always going back on their word, but there were few people left at the winery at this hour and he didn’t know who to complain to.

“Have you seen Gretet?” he asked one of the workers he was more familiar with.

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen him since the wages were handed out this afternoon,” the worker recalled offhandedly, shaking the dust off his clothes as he prepared to leave.

Bard asked two more people, but they said they didn’t know. Since he wasn’t close with these workers, Bard had no choice but to give up.

He figured that given Gretet’s personality, he was probably angry.

Oh well, it’s getting late. I’ll talk to him tomorrow, Bard thought to himself as he prepared to head home to rest, feeling tired after running around all day.

“It’s disgusting. I can’t believe those guys sided with the Nisos family too.”

The worker who had been walking the same way as Bard started talking about what had happened earlier that day.

Bard also thought those people had probably taken money from the Nisos family, but unless they were caught in the act, what could be done? They still had to work at the winery to make a living.

Unable to think of a solution, Bard could only continue walking along the dark streets. This area was where workshops and warehouses were concentrated in Hopland, with few tourists and hardly any street lamps. He could only hear faint lively music coming from far away.

For some reason, he walked slower and slower until he finally came to a stop.

He felt worried about Gretet, knowing his friend’s personality—he couldn’t tolerate injustice and was quite idealistic.

I should go check on him. It’s not far anyway.

He changed direction and headed towards another street.

The narrow alley was pitch black, with some puddles on the ground. Fortunately, there were stone slabs paving the way, so he wouldn’t step into mud.

These rough stone slabs effectively prevented the ground from becoming muddy, as the guild cared about the city’s appearance and didn’t want to see mud everywhere. Not only was it dirty, but it was also troublesome to clean up.

Bard walked quietly through the alley, familiar enough with this route that he encountered no obstacles.

After turning this corner, he should be near where Gretet lived. It wasn’t far from the winery.

A faint light shone into the dark alley entrance, and he could hear voices talking outside.

“Weren’t you acting all high and mighty before? How come you’re so quiet now?”

A familiar, hateful, gruff voice reached Bard’s ears, followed by the sound of dull impacts and hoarse cries of pain.

He carefully approached the corner of the alley, peering out from the shadows.

In the dim lamplight, the door to Gretet’s small house had been pulled open. Seven or eight men surrounded an open space in front of the door, the area eerily quiet.

A man knelt on the ground in the middle, his hair gripped tightly, his body covered in blood and grime. If not for the familiar clothes, Bard might not have recognized him as Gretet.

Gretet no longer had his usual handsome appearance. His face was covered in blood, snot, dirt, and spit. His legs were twisted unnaturally. If not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, one might not think he was still alive.

“You were so smug earlier when you were demanding money for that ugly bastard. Bet you didn’t think you’d end up like this, did you?”

Among the men standing, the leader was Manda, the thug who had robbed Bard before.

Some held wooden clubs, others broken bottles still stained with blood.

Bard was about to rush out when one of the middle-aged men spoke up.

“If you ask me, Gretet, you just don’t know your place. Making trouble once is one thing, but you tried to do it again.”

“You didn’t consider your own abilities. Now you’ve angered Lord Fernelton, and you won’t be working at the winery anymore. Didn’t you always say the Nisos family was no good? Well, now you’ve got your wish.”

“You…” The bloodied and battered Gretet tried to say something, but his throat was full of blood and he couldn’t get the words out.

In the lamplight, Bard realized this middle-aged man was one of the leaders who had gone on strike with Gretet before. The others nearby were the same.

Seeing this shocking scene, Bard finally understood that Gretet had been betrayed. His heart sank, wanting to cry out but unable to make a sound.

Yes, he was afraid. All the people around Gretet had betrayed him. How could he alone fight those burly men?

Fear spread through his mind as memories of past bullying and beatings resurfaced. The mocking laughter and taunts from those memories seemed to echo in his ears again. His legs trembled as his body slowly slid down against the wall.

What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?

He dug his fingers into the dirt between the stone slabs, his heart filled with anxiety, his mind in chaos.

[If one day you feel too troubled to go on, just imagine yourself as a stone without feelings. It’ll make you feel a bit better.]

For some reason, he suddenly recalled these words.

Bard had often been looked down upon for his ugliness, and few people had ever shown him particular kindness growing up.

The most memorable to him, besides his good friend Gretet, was the young woman who had helped him at the restaurant that time.

He was actually very grateful for that young woman’s help, but he wasn’t good with words and seemed to have angered her, leaving behind only this piece of advice.

His limited knowledge left him with few options. He tried to imagine himself as a cold stone, without emotions, without fear, without shame, and without terror.

Slowly, slowly, his mind finally calmed down.

How could he rescue Gretet?

Fighting was out of the question. He couldn’t beat them. Finding help? It would be difficult in such a short time, and others might not dare to stand up anyway.

His thoughts seemed stuck. No, he needed to change his approach.

He just needed to separate Gretet from them.

He turned and retreated back into the alley, carefully running away without making a sound. After getting some distance, he began to sprint with all his might.

The night wind whistled in his ears as his chest heaved violently. He gasped for air, running in that familiar direction.

After turning two street corners, he charged back to the winery, kicking open the closed main gate. The old iron lock instantly shattered, tearing off a small piece of the wooden frame.

Ignoring the shocked guard who couldn’t speak, he rushed past, grabbed the lantern from the table, and began searching frantically.

Finally, an oil jar in the corner appeared in his field of vision.

Hugging the oil jar to his chest, he prepared to charge into the workshop where there were many empty barrels and wooden structures.

“What are you doing, Bard?!” The guard tried to stop him.

“Get out of my way! Or I’ll kill you!” Bard roared with a ferocious expression, startling the guard.

After entering, he poured oil over the barrels and debris, then opened the lantern and used the candle flame to ignite it.

Bang——

As the flames began to spread, dissatisfied with how slowly it was burning, he grabbed some nearby filtering gauze and threw it on, then dragged the burning cloth to quickly spread the fire throughout the workshop.

A sea of flames rose up. It was already the dry autumn season, so the fire spread extremely fast.

As scorching, suffocating heat waves came rushing in, even the guard didn’t dare approach and could only shout loudly, alerting others nearby.

Bard watched the flames soar, rising over ten zhang high and illuminating the night sky, before dropping the burning cloth in his hand and turning to run.

Thick smoke rose with the flames, the choking smell spreading through the air. People awakened by the shouts began to look in this direction. If this fire really got going, not just this winery but probably several nearby workshops would be in trouble too.

This whole area was mostly Nisos family property. They immediately sent people to wake up employees living nearby, while several others mounted horses to report and seek help from the authorities.

As Bard ran back, the men beating Gretet also saw the flames. Rescue efforts could be heard in the distance amidst the chaos.

As more and more people began to appear in the small alley, Manda and his group no longer dared to openly continue beating Gretet.

“What should we do, boss? It’s not a good time to do this now,” one of the underlings asked, as more people gathered around.

“Drag him into the house.”