Surviving as a Witch in a World that Hunts Heretics-Chapter 15 : Chapter 15

Chapter 15. One Year
Time slipped by slowly yet visibly, in a kind of stability that even Leticia herself found surprising.
Such days lasted for over a year.
By this time, Leticia had adapted well to this life and to her role in it.
Her daily life was still hard, but at least she no longer needed to worry about whether she would have food the next day. Her interactions with the villagers were still awkward, but now and then she could occasionally catch sight of the smiles that slipped out of them unintentionally.
That was already good enough.
Stano, that brat, was still as impatient and reckless as ever. But through her exchanges with him, Leticia had managed to make up for a great deal of common knowledge, as well as some local customs and habits (though most of it was foreign).
Well, if one day this boy suddenly changed his personality, now that would be strange.
If that ever happened, Leticia would immediately stop interacting with him. Because at that point, who knew if the one she was speaking with was still that brat?
Even if she couldn’t sever the link herself—the one whose source she still hadn’t figured out—she could always play dead.
So long as she didn’t respond, the other side wouldn’t have much recourse, right~
As for studying the written language......
Learning under Priest Marshall was honestly quite dull. After all, unless one was a true knowledge fanatic, learning itself was inherently a monotonous and joyless process of taking in knowledge. There were no colorful scenes, no entertaining sounds; one could only find a sliver of satisfaction in gradually becoming familiar with it, in gradually mastering it.
Since she had nothing else to do, Leticia could only force herself to adopt the mindset of “I love learning, learning makes me happy, I can’t survive without learning, learning is my life’s only purpose,” and threw herself wholeheartedly into her studies.
From first seeing a jumble of scribbles that looked like wild symbols, to gradually feeling familiarity with them, to slowly becoming their friend (hardcore friendship-building), Leticia was delighted. Because knowledge was power!
During this relatively stable life, Leticia also noticed some oddities.
For example, after she learned to read, she sometimes caught sight of Priest Marshall secretly reading scraps of paper. The old-fashioned parchment was clearly not something available in Innsmouth. Obviously, it came from some external channel of information, and judging by the patterned watermark, it was correspondence from the Church itself.
Though Priest Marshall was careful to conceal it, he underestimated Leticia’s learning ability.
In his view, how could a girl who had never studied letters possibly master such a profound “art” so quickly?
It was precisely because of this reasonable assumption that the normally cautious priest slipped up, allowing Leticia to glimpse more about the Church—and some of its secrets.
What shocked her the most was a passage in one such message sent from “there” (“there,” in the priest’s words, referred to the center of religious power in the Intis Kingdom, the great cathedral headquarters in the capital). The message contained the phrase “God is in the heart”......
Though not exactly what she had said, the overall meaning was the same.
The first time she saw it, Leticia was terrified.
She almost believed she had accidentally repeated the words of some ancestor-level figure of the Church. If the Church were lenient, that would be fine. But if they decided to make an issue of it......
Her life would be finished!
Yet, forcing herself to stay calm, she studied the parchment closely. And then her expression grew strangely thoughtful.
Because this parchment, humble yet luxurious, was actually a letter of commendation for Priest Marshall.
Her words, glowing faintly with golden trim, were engraved at the very top of the page, looking supremely holy, as though praising some great truth—or like the creed of a devout cleric.
Beneath it, in smaller letters, were effusive words of praise for Marshall from officials at the Church’s headquarters, along with the rewards they granted him.
“Priest, we must congratulate you, for once more you have taken a firm step forward on the path of faith. As is well known, time is the element that makes fine wine more mellow. Our faith shines with the sun and moon alike. Our faith is as deep as the earth bestowed by the Lord. You have not allowed age to bind your spirit, nor the world to obscure your path. At this time, you have taken yet another step forward......”
After reading, Leticia finally understood. The old man had taken her words and used them to enrich and expand the doctrine.
And he had received an excellent response?
Leticia was shocked. To her, what she had said was simply something any normal person could think up, nothing worth amazement.
Could it be, purely by bad luck, that no one here was normal?!
If so, she could only consider herself unfortunate!
Still, after reading that letter, Leticia felt somewhat reassured.
Because, to Priest Marshall, she was useful.
It might sound harsh, as if she had been relegated to something less than human, a true “tool.”
But if she looked at it differently—her “casual insights” had caught the old man’s attention, and these words had found good reception within the Church—then her importance in the priest’s eyes had risen dramatically.
In short, she had gained a little umbrella of protection. Should trouble arise in the future, the priest would be more likely to shield her.
That was a good outcome, and Leticia was satisfied.
As long as the old man didn’t suddenly get restless and try to use her to vent his desires, everything would be fine.
As for Priest Marshall, the scribe who plagiarized her words, the rewards he received were peculiar. Two, in particular, intrigued Leticia. One: his words would be added to a volume called “The Apocalypse Record · Supplement.” Two: Priest Marshall would receive “Wisdom of the Gods.”
The former was undoubtedly some sort of preparatory textbook, or so Leticia guessed. As for the latter......
It turned out to be a tiny vial of liquid.
She didn’t know what it did. But when she glimpsed it, the priest’s ecstatic expression was twisted and grotesque, his eyes bulging.
Thanks to her excellent eyesight, Leticia was able to catch the details. The vial was no longer than a finger, thin, and even with the stopper removed, no scent leaked out.
With both hands, he cradled the vial, face lit with crazed reverence, praying in the mingling light and shadow.
That was what Leticia saw.
And it sent a chill through her heart.
What was that “Wisdom of the Gods”?
That was only one of her greatest questions during the year. Another, naturally, was knowledge about witches~
Because she studied in the church, and because she had a loudmouthed brat in her head, Leticia could, by carefully coaxing, extract small tidbits of rumor.
It let her see more of the madness of this world.
Contrary to the common understanding of the masses, witches were merely part of the heretics the Church condemned. If the categories were listed out fully, there were three tiers.
Demon Maids, Witches, and Sorceresses.
This was a fairly complete chain.
Occasionally, while helping tidy things up (though she studied under the priest, Leticia was more like a maid in the church—she helped the old woman clean, and assisted the assistant clerics with moving letters and documents), she also spotted words like Shaman and Warlock.
When she and Stano first met in that dream-world link, he had suspected her of being a Demon Maid. But Leticia could stake her pride on the fact that she hadn’t even known what the term meant at the time. How could she possibly have been one?
As for the distinction between those three terms......
She hadn’t been able to find out. When she tried probing deeper, she discovered Stano himself only half-understood. And in the church, the core knowledge was far beyond her reach.
All she could learn was that such people were deemed irredeemable madmen. Only holy fire could purify them, burning away their filth. Their ashes would be scattered across the land, to be baked by the sun and washed by the moon, so that pure believers walking the earth might trample them beneath their feet—thus granting the Lord’s forgiveness.
In other words, she understood nothing at all.
So why was this fragment of “summary” included in her knowledge?
Because the main story was about to unfold!