She Is Not a Witch

“Gretet, are we really okay doing this?” Bard stood among the striking crowd, looking at Gretet, the young man a few years older than him.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Even if they arrest someone, it’ll just be me. They won’t expand it, after all, they still need people to work.”

“But won’t that put you in danger?” Bard worried, having rarely found such a good friend.

“Haha, I have my ways. Someone has to do these things, right?”

“Ah, actually everyone thinks like that, always wanting others to stand up for them, as long as they themselves don’t get hurt.” Gretet sighed as he said this.

“We all try to avoid harm and constantly comply, not daring to resist. And so, we retreat one step after another until we’ve given up everything.”

Gretet looked at the dazzling sunlight in the sky, using his fingers to block part of it. A small amount of light poured through the gaps between his fingers, like a beam of light penetrating a dark canyon.

“Individuals are lonely and weak, but if they unite together, trust each other, and warm each other, they’ll gain immense courage.”

“I’m not fighting alone.”

“These words are simple and plain, but they give me incomparable peace of mind. Perhaps this is the power of unity.”

Bard silently looked at Gretet. He didn’t really understand ideals and grand principles, but like many ordinary people, he had also dreamed about heroes.

As the bards sang, when crisis struck and all seemed lost, a hero would always appear. Incredibly powerful, they would break everything, overturn everything, and save everyone.

As a child, he often hid in the corners of taverns, listening to lute-playing poets tell such stories. Under the dim lights, these poets could always spin wonderful tales from their mouths—dragons, princesses, knights, wizards. Each character was vivid, as if they too were sitting in the tavern, drinking ale, casually discussing their adventurous lives.

But those times were long gone. He was no longer that boy eavesdropping in a rural tavern. Coming to the big city to pursue his dreams, he was like a young calf hitting a hard boulder, bloodied and battered. Until now, he slowly realized how incredibly small and fragile he was in this world, and the word “hero” had long since faded away.

If I hadn’t met Gretet, I probably would have kept sinking into this loss and confusion, Bard thought.

“Thank you, Gretet.”

“Hm? Why are you suddenly saying this? Are you leaving early?” Gretet was a bit surprised, as the protest wasn’t over yet.

“It’s nothing. Just thanking you for helping me get back the wages that were stolen before.” Bard looked at Gretet and smiled. Although his appearance wasn’t particularly handsome, at this moment he looked very sincere and open, making others less concerned about his looks.

“Oh, that? It’s nothing. Aren’t we friends?”

“Mm, but friends should still say thank you.” Bard insisted slightly.

The long protest ended. The Nisos Merchant Association sent people to negotiate. Under the persistence of Gretet and others, the representatives finally agreed to improve employee treatment. The new winery would be closed, and employees who had fallen ill would receive compensation.

After receiving satisfactory answers, the protesting crowd slowly dispersed. Gretet was surrounded by everyone, cheered and tossed into the air, then caught again. Afterward, they chose a restaurant to celebrate.

Unfortunately, too many people came, and the restaurant couldn’t accommodate them all. In the end, this group simply set up bonfires by the sea, buying smoked meat, fish, and wine.

They sat around together, some loudly recounting their heroic experiences of the day, teasing and praising each other. Bursts of laughter occasionally rang out under the night sky.

Bard sat with them on the ground, turning over roasting fish, occasionally chiming in and letting out exaggerated laughs.

The orange firelight illuminated excited, proud faces and lively eyes. These previously gray, numb faces seemed to be colored again, and with a warm orange at that.

Golden-brown fish sprinkled with a bit of salt, skewers of marbled meat dripping oil by the fire pit. The aroma of food permeated the air, mixing with the fresh scent of burning pine, making everyone’s mouths water and appetites soar.

Some impatiently took down the meat skewers, only to be scalded and make strange noises, causing another burst of laughter that carried far across the beach under the night sky.

After finishing the food, they started drinking and occasionally singing rural folk songs. Some people kept the beat, and this continued until very late.

⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱

After the night’s gathering ended, Bard supported Gretet back to where he lived. By now, Gretet was quite drunk, walking crookedly, though he hadn’t completely lost consciousness.

“Ba…rd, have you… thought about what you want to do in the future? hic~”

“I haven’t really thought about it in detail. Probably just to live a bit better, to eat well every day.”

Bard thought for a moment before giving his opinion.

“That… that won’t do. You’ve… you’ve got to have a dream~” Gretet unconsciously veered off course again.

“A dream… I don’t know. I just want to stay alive.” Bard didn’t quite understand, after all, survival was the most important thing, right?

“Phew~ That’s because you haven’t reached that point yet.”

“One day, you’ll find something buried in the deepest part of your heart, something you think about day and night, can’t let go of, always want to try doing.”

“Then, you’ll know your dream.” Gretet suddenly sobered up a bit as he said this.

“Mm.”

“Then Gretet, what’s your dream?”

“Me? Don’t laugh if I tell you.” Gretet’s walk became crooked again.

“I want to be a great hero, admired and loved by everyone, and then… then have countless beautiful girls fall for me, haha~”

Under the dim moonlight, Gretet laughed freely, startling a few dogs in the middle of the night.

Bard, supporting Gretet’s shoulder, laughed along. What young man doesn’t like beautiful girls? It’s just that usually everyone pretends not to say it.

Then the two discussed the pretty girls of Hopland, from the girls in the workshops to the ladies in the taverns, from the daughters of ordinary families to the young ladies of merchant associations.

They walked and stopped along the way, slowly approaching where Gretet lived.

“Do you know who the most beautiful girl in Hopland is?” Gretet asked.

“I don’t know,” Bard answered honestly.

“It’s Miss Lacey of the Carithes family. Unfortunately, she rarely appears in public. I’ve only heard people say she has long golden hair and clear blue eyes. Her beauty is like the bright moon in the sky, dreamlike and otherworldly.”

“Is she even more beautiful than Miss Fenrai of the Anemis family? Didn’t you just say Fenrai was the most beautiful in the world?”

“Actually, I haven’t seen either of them. But Miss Lacey has recently implemented many charitable regulations and benefits, so I think she’s a hero, and probably more beautiful than Fenrai.” Gretet expressed his subjective aesthetic view.

“That’s true.”

Bard agreed, then helped his friend into the room, laying him on the bed before walking out of the house.

The moon was like a sliver, appearing and disappearing in the clouds. The continuous sound of insects chirping came from all around. In the deep night, there was suddenly a chill in the air.