Witch Monastery

Chapter 413: The Difference on the Surface

Lisa slowly began recounting what happened that day—from the sudden crowd of debt collectors showing up for no reason, to the giant rats that came to steal things, and finally, to the sudden appearance of an angelic woman who claimed to be their ancestor.

Shapiro listened in silence, growing more alarmed and despairing with every word. Everything Lisa described matched perfectly with his so-called ancestor’s traits—even powers he’d once helped her set up or investigated!

For example, the wererats—he’d encountered them when gathering intel in the South Harbor District. He’d even tracked down a bard who could control these wererats with music!

It was obvious now: only his ancestor could orchestrate all these forces. No matter how much he tried to fool himself, there was no excuse left.

That ancestor—truly a two-faced, deceitful manipulator!

She’d promised him, to his face, that she’d keep his sister out of all this trouble—only to kidnap her sister behind his back! Still lying, still stalling!

Shapiro’s fists tightened, veins bulged on the back of his hand, and his face grew stormy, anger on the brink of exploding. This fury rolled off him in waves, and Lisa began to shrink away, hiding behind Andny again.

Sophia frowned sharply, "Take it down a notch, Shapiro. You’re frightening her!"

Shapiro sucked in deep breaths, tamping down his rage. "Sorry. I just... I didn’t expect this. I was lied to. It won’t happen again."

Sophia thought to herself that she still wouldn’t fully trust him, but kept her face calm. She continued, "Andny, take Lisa back."

Andny led the little girl away toward the monastery. Once they were gone, Sophia turned back to Shapiro: "Are you ready? If you have nothing else to prepare, let’s get moving."

"Lord Charles wants us to meet him in Willowwind Town. After that, we’ll head into the Underdark together to look for your ancestor."

Shapiro took a deep breath.

"I have everything I need with me at all times," he said. "As long as you take off these shackles when needed, I can unleash my full combat strength at a moment’s notice."

Sophia smiled lightly. "I’ll decide if and when that happens. Now, let’s go."

"This journey won’t be easy—I hope you’re up for it, Shapiro."

...

In the mountains, Charles led the rescued beekeepers and his group—now more than ten strong—back to Willowwind Town.

At the main gate, two burly half-orcs in chainmail, gripping halberds, stood watch. Having worked things out with their Stonefist tribe chieftain, Charles had gotten them assigned as Willowwind’s guards, already armed and on duty.

They kept their old habits from Rockseeker’s Outpost, not bothering friendly travelers coming and going from Willowwind Town.

The half-orc guards recognized Charles, surprised to see him return with so many followers. But they wisely bowed their heads and greeted him—prompting the surviving beekeepers to feel honored and flustered by the attention.

At the back of the party, the Dark Elf Hanni Harren wore a black blindfold to block even a hint of sunlight from her sensitive eyes.

Hand in hand with Nymeria, she stayed at the very rear of the group, wary of stumbling on anything unfamiliar.

Curiosity got the better of her, though, when she heard a loud hubbub of praise up ahead. She couldn’t resist, lifting the blindfold just a crack.

Intense brightness stabbed into her pupils, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She quickly blinked the tears away and finally managed to see again.

Fortunately, it was late in the day, and the sunlight wasn’t as harsh as midday. Hanni adapted quickly and looked ahead.

The sight startled her: "Orcs!"

Nymeria looked at her, puzzled, then glanced forward and back, confused by Hanni’s alarm. "Where?"

Hanni pointed at the Stonefist guards. Luckily, she whispered in Elvish and the guards didn’t understand.

Nymeria chuckled, "They’re half-orcs! Oh, you’ve never seen any before?"

Hanni blinked, more sheepish now. "Half-orcs?"

Nymeria nodded. "Yeah, just like half-elves. Menzoberranzan probably has some, too, right? Don’t your Dark Elves love raiding the surface for all kinds of slaves?"

That last bit turned Nymeria’s mood a little sour—she suddenly doubted if helping this little Dark Elf had been wise.

Hanni pouted, shaking her head. "We’re not in the slavery business—we work in Purple Worms."

"I know what half-orcs are, I just never actually dealt with them..." Her eyes filled with curiosity as she gazed at the half-orcs up ahead. "I didn’t expect them to be so different from orcs. Orcs are all vicious and look ready to eat you alive, but these seem so... polite."

Nymeria laughed. "Well, if you’re strong enough, orcs will act polite around you, too, believe it or not!"

Hanni looked uncertain. "Really? But the textbooks say that orcs are naturally brutal and never know how to submit—so you have to use really harsh methods to hammer obedience into them."

"Uh... that’s what my books said. Weren’t yours the same?"

She eyed Nymeria, who looked startled and glanced away. "Uh, well, I’m sure the textbooks are different everywhere. But out adventuring, the orcs I’ve met were pretty easy to handle, haha..."

She forced an awkward laugh, worried Hanni might see through her. After all, she was only fourteen herself, and hadn’t learned much about these things, so she changed the subject hurriedly, "Let’s go take a look inside—you’ve never seen a surface town, have you? Get ready to be amazed!"

Hanni kept her doubts to herself and just pressed down on her black blindfold a little more, peeking at the surface world.

Legends said the sky above was endless, and the thought made her anxious. She couldn’t help but wonder: if she cast Fly on herself, would she shoot up forever, eventually reaching the Astral Sea?

After all, up here there was no thick rock ceiling for protection—she could fly as high as she wanted!

The more she thought about it, the more scared she became. Unconsciously, she clung tighter to Nymeria’s arm, trembling from nerves.

Up ahead, Charles wasted no time taking his group straight to the Willowwind Town monastery’s branch and found Nidalee there.

She was surprised by their quick return but, after hearing the story, gave her full support.

She welcomed the beekeepers, made housing arrangements, and promised to find them work so they could start a new life in Willowwind.

For a town of over a thousand, a dozen new residents was a drop in the bucket, but for Nidalee, it was still progress—new jobs meant new income for the town.

Charles was happy to let her handle these logistics with her trademark enthusiasm while he focused on his own tasks.

The next day, at noon, near Willowwind Town’s eastern gate—

The towering Shapiro appeared on the road, Sophia following close behind like his warden. Despite the Chthonian-ravaged roads, they’d made it from South Harbor District to Willowwind Town in a single day—easy for extraordinary individuals like them.

During the journey, Sophia kept in touch with Charles via Message. So, as soon as Shapiro and Sophia entered Willowwind, they saw Charles approaching with several nuns, smiling in greeting.

As Shapiro watched him approach, he instinctively lowered his head, annoyed. He could already predict how Charles would handle this meeting.

First, he’d bring up old grievances—how kind he’d been, how he’d put his trust in Shapiro, only for Shapiro to disappoint him. He’d lecture him soundly.

Then he’d say that, in anyone else’s hands, Shapiro would be dead for his betrayal, but Charles was a magnanimous man, willing to give him a chance to atone...

Shapiro silently recited these lines to himself. That kind of manipulative routine was old hat in prison, like a seasoned con taking advantage of the trusting.

He’d fallen for such tricks before—once, he’d actually regarded a prison mentor as his closest friend, only to be betrayed.

Never again.

With that resolve, he took a deep breath and put on his most contrite, pained expression—wanting Charles to believe he’d truly repented.

But instead, Charles strode up, spread his arms wide, and gave Shapiro a huge hug. "Finally, my brother! You finally see that fallen angel for who she really is, and you’re not fooled by her lies anymore."

"I’m truly glad, brother! You don’t have to wander down the wrong path—we can still work together to save your family!"

Then, turning to Sophia, he said, "Take off those magic shackles already! What are we doing treating our brother like this?"

Sophia mused that Charles had told her the opposite just days ago, but she said nothing—she just chanted a spell and released Shapiro’s restraints.

As the link to his magic came surging back, Shapiro was stunned.

What’s going on here?

Charles stood a full half-head shorter than Shapiro’s six foot four, but right now, it felt like a loving big brother embracing the wayward sibling who’d finally returned.

Shapiro had no idea how to handle this. It was just like with Lisa before—after so long out of such relationships, he’d forgotten how to act with people who trusted him genuinely.

"I, uh..." Flustered, a weird emotion welled up in him, and he blurted out, "Sorry. You always tried to help my sister. I should have trusted you from the start..."

He turned his face away. "As long as you rescue my sister, I’ll do anything you ask!"

Charles let go, smiling.

The two didn’t know each other that well, but Charles could guess as much. He’d heard all about Shapiro’s life from Malena, and knew the man was still young—not even twenty.

And Andny had eavesdropped on the way Shapiro had tricked his ancestor for info, so Charles knew he was a cagey guy, not some academic like the Radiant Society’s scholars.

Standard routines wouldn’t work on him—so he was better off using the unconventional approach.

Charles stayed warm, with an honest, satisfied smile—leaving Shapiro genuinely bewildered. That cynical toughness began to melt. He realized: not everyone in the world was out to use him for their own gain. Maybe, just maybe, some people really cared.

Afterward, Charles brought him to Willowwind Town’s only halfling-run restaurant and ordered a feast.

Shapiro fidgeted, unused to such hospitality, picking at his food and soon expressing an urgent wish to set out and rescue his sister as soon as possible.

Charles understood. After lunch, they wasted no time, and set off for the Underdark together.

It was already late in the day, so rather than plunge into the darkness, they made camp outside the Chthonian-dug cave.

Everyone pitched their tents around a central fire. As they prepared dinner, Charles squeezed in beside Shapiro to talk about Sulpharlo. "Are you able to contact your ancestor? After all these days missing, won’t she get suspicious about you?"

Shapiro nodded. "Yeah, but honestly, we didn’t talk that often anyway. Usually just when I needed a new mission or got stuck progressing my spellcasting. Sometimes we could go months without speaking. Given what she’s working on now, she probably hopes I don’t contact her at all and lets her focus on Liberl Port. She shouldn’t suspect a thing."

Charles nodded. "Excellent. Actually, I have a way to pinpoint her location if you can get in touch with her."

Shapiro’s eyes lit up. "Really? That’s great! So you know she’s on the material plane?"

Charles nodded. "Not only that, we can roughly locate her—especially now that you’re with us."

Shapiro took another breath. "I’ll need some tools, especially stuff for drawing a magic array. I had some left in my old pack, but I’m running low."

Charles said, "That’s fine. No rush—when we reach the Underdark, we can get more."

The two ate and strategized their next moves, discussing how best to deal with Sulpharlo—whether to set a trap, lure her out, or some other strategy...

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