“I’m just an ordinary person who has only just recovered from a serious illness, and I have no idea how powerful the wraiths in this world are, what their weaknesses might be, or how to deal with them.”

“There’s a chance I could be deceived, killed, or even possessed by a wraith!”

After regaining his composure, Logan Bennett analyzed his own situation, growing more and more fearful the more he thought about it. If he let greed cloud his mind or let the prospect of adventure go to his head and recklessly went searching, he would almost certainly end up dead down there.

“But I can’t just sit here and wait. Who knows if a wraith might come up here?” Logan Bennett’s mind raced as he considered his options.

Suddenly, Logan Bennett had a flash of inspiration and thought of a power he could rely on. He carefully edged toward the door, terrified that a wraith might suddenly appear behind or in front of him. The black bread in Logan Bennett’s palm was soaked with sweat.

He slowly pulled open the wooden door, cold sweat covering his forehead.

The door was half open, and outside, the night was deep and the cold wind swirled.

Logan Bennett stepped out of the house one step at a time and saw a distant light.

No wraiths appeared in any direction—front, back, left, right, up, or down—and after leaving the house, the sound of ghostly weeping became much fainter and more indistinct. Logan Bennett relaxed a little, took a deep breath, then another, and then shouted loudly:

“There’s a ghost! There’s a ghost harming people!”

The shout was so loud that even Logan Bennett was startled by it; he hadn’t expected his full-throated yell to have such an effect.

“Woof woof woof!” The stray dogs were frightened and began barking wildly.

Listening to all this, Logan Bennett hurriedly ran toward the Arden Church. Purifying wraiths was, of course, a job for professionals!

And as the neighbor of a witch, he was likely already under the church’s watch. If he were the original Logan Bennett, it wouldn’t matter, but he was hiding the secret of his transmigration. If he let his guard down even a little, he might give himself away. This time, by proactively seeking help from the church—and since it was about a witch—he could clear himself of suspicion and gain the church’s trust, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being watched anymore.

Logan Bennett had also considered the possibility that church members might covet the witch’s treasures, kill him to silence him, and frame him, which was why he shouted about the ghost to wake everyone up.

In his haste, Logan Bennett could only think of these few aspects; he couldn’t cover everything.

Arden Church wasn’t far away, and soon Logan Bennett saw the building glowing with soft yellow candlelight.

At the church entrance stood two guards in silver chainmail. When they saw Logan Bennett running over, one held out his hand to stop him, while the other half-drew his sword, ready for action. The middle of the night always felt dangerous.

“What are you doing at the church?” the guard who held out his hand asked.

Logan Bennett didn’t even have to pretend; his voice was naturally tense: “There’s a ghost! I heard a ghost crying—it was coming from the house where the witch who was burned today used to live!”

The guard looked alarmed as well. He didn’t doubt Logan Bennett’s words; this was something a trainee knight squire like him couldn’t judge. He told Dean Cooper to stay put, had the other guard watch him, and then turned to enter the church to report to the night’s watch priest. The sound of armor clinking faded as he walked away.

A few minutes later, a young priest in a white robe came out of the church with the guard.

He had a head of golden hair and a thin face, and moved with a unique rhythm that made him seem very graceful. “I am Priest Benjamin Wright. Tell me again about the ghost.”

In front of Priest Benjamin Wright, the two guards stood quietly, not daring to move, afraid the sound of their armor would disturb Lord Benjamin Wright’s questioning.

Logan Bennett patiently and respectfully recounted how he had discovered the ghostly weeping, thought of the church, and what he had done about it.

After listening, Benjamin Wright’s face softened with a gentle smile. “Very good. You did well. Being able to overcome your fear and report to the church shows your devotion to the Lord.”

He praised Logan Bennett a few times, then turned to the guards and said, “Thompson Reed, call out Gary Miller, Paul Baker, and the other two. The witch was only a magic apprentice; there’s no need to trouble the bishop.”

“Yes, Lord Benjamin Wright.” Thompson Reed didn’t say much more. Lord Benjamin Wright was a full priest—even though he was only first rank, he had no problem dealing with magical traps or informal magic left by a magic apprentice. The difference between the two was greater than that between a knight and a high-ranking knight squire, just like the gap between a full priest and a high-level trainee priest, both in status and in strength.

Benjamin Wright asked Logan Bennett a few more questions, learned his name, and waited until four more guards arrived, also wearing silver chainmail but exuding far more strength and presence than Thompson Reed.

Outside the burned-down witch’s hut, a crowd had gathered at a distance. Candlelight flickered like starlight, dotting the night beneath the silver moon in the sky.

It was only then that Logan Bennett realized the moon in this world was silver.

The anxious, murmuring crowd fell silent as soon as they saw Benjamin Wright approach, a sense of reassurance spreading as they gathered closer, whispering quietly among themselves.

“I don’t hear any ghostly sounds.”

“No matter if there are or not, it’s good for the priest to come and perform a purification.”