A Prisoner of Weight

Everyone's gaze fell on her at once. Colin's expression changed, and his fingers tightened around the crossbow mechanism.

"What do you mean?"

Ignoring his hostility, Isolde bent down and picked up the Holy Lamp.

The handle was cold in her hand. The light on its holy emblem circled along her fingers, as though testing her presence.

The disguise within her trembled. Meng Yinyin's basic mage mark surfaced, its faint white glow clinging to her palm and merging with the holiness within Unicorn's Last Wish.

The Holy Lamp remained lit, showing no rejection.

Seeing this, Hewen's gaze darkened slightly. The killing intent that had shrouded Isolde finally receded somewhat.

At the very least, it proved she was not an evil mage.

Holding the lamp, Isolde shook the snow from it.

"A patrol from the monastery just died. There are also traces of Black Tower spells outside. At a time like this, what do the people at the gate want to see most?"

Colin sneered. "What? The murderer voluntarily offering up her head to beg forgiveness?"

Isolde glanced at him. "Oh? Looks like you're not completely stupid."

"You—!" Veins throbbed at Colin's temples as he cocked the crossbow. "I should have put an arrow through your throat long ago."

"That's enough, Colin." Hewen grabbed him, his gaze carrying an unquestionable warning.

He turned to Isolde, his eyes sharp. "Northerners don't like beating around the bush. Say what you mean."

"The monastery definitely doesn't know about the Black Tower yet." Isolde got straight to the point. "Since they've already laid the groundwork for us, we might as well use it. I can disguise myself as a monk and bring in a prisoner important enough..."

Colin was the first to understand. He suddenly looked up.

"No. Who knows whether you'll sell us out to the Holy Court the moment you get inside?"

Isolde met his gaze calmly. She even stepped half a pace forward, exposing herself to the crossbow.

"If I truly wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have needed to lure away the patrol just now."

"I could have simply stood there and shouted, 'There are witch hunters here.' You'd already be fighting them by now."

Colin gritted his teeth, his knuckles whitening around the crossbow. "Or maybe you only did that because you wanted to use us."

"Of course that's possible." Isolde nodded frankly. "But I'm not asking all of you to go in."

Hewen said heavily, "Continue."

"I'll put on a monk's robe, take the Holy Lamp, and escort someone inside." Isolde raised a hand and pointed deeper into the monastery. "You'll lie in wait near the corpse transport route and support us from both inside and out. If we're lucky, we might even find the person you're looking for."

The older witch hunter frowned. "How can you guarantee you won't be exposed once you're inside?"

Isolde lifted the Holy Lamp in her hand.

"I only need to look like a terrified peripheral servant who barely managed to escape."

"Once people think you're insignificant, they can't be bothered to investigate you from beginning to end."

Colin's expression shifted slightly. He had probably thought of something, and the tension between his brows tightened.

Hewen asked, "Why are you helping us?"

Isolde said, "Because our purpose is the same: saving someone. Whether it's the same person remains unclear for now, but our interests don't conflict. Once we're inside, we go our separate ways and look after ourselves."

"You make it sound easy." Colin's voice was hoarse. "What if you ditch us?"

Isolde swept him a cold look. "You can choose to keep waiting outside."

Colin's face stiffened, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You've already been circling outside for three days, haven't you?" Isolde added calmly, twisting the knife. "If you had another way, you wouldn't be standing here talking nonsense with a stranger of unknown origin."

After a stretch of silence, Colin suddenly slung his crossbow onto his back and stepped forward.

"I'll go."

Several witch hunters froze.

"Let me be the prisoner." Colin stared at Isolde. "As long as I can get through the gate, I'll find Aiven myself."

"No." Hewen's voice was cold and left no room for argument.

Colin abruptly turned his head. "Captain!"

"You're too impulsive."

"That's my brother!"

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The words seemed to have been torn straight from his chest.

Colin's eyes were bloodshot as he looked at Hewen, as if the fear that had built up over the past few days could finally no longer be restrained.

"You said he might still be alive. You said we should wait for an opportunity tonight. But every extra minute we wait brings him closer to death! If I don't go in, am I supposed to keep standing here listening to that damned bell? I can't do it!"

Hewen stepped forward, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against a tree.

"That's exactly why you can't go because he's your brother."

"The moment you see even half a shadow that looks like him, you'll completely lose control. Then not only will you fail to save anyone, you'll get the entire team killed!"

Colin opened his mouth, breathing hard, but could not say a word for a long while.

Isolde stood to the side, quietly watching like an outsider.

At this point, saying even one extra word would be like tossing out a spark. She had no desire to get blown up with the rest of them.

Hewen took a deep breath and turned around. "I'll go."

The older witch hunter cried out in alarm. "Hewen!"

Hewen raised a hand, silencing everyone.

"If the Holy Court captures an ordinary witch hunter, they may not immediately open the gates. But if it's me, they'll want to interrogate me personally."

Hewen's judgment was calm—and dangerous.

He was willing to enter the monastery himself not only for the plan, but also to keep Colin in check.

If Colin went, he might die.

If Hewen went himself, at least he could reduce the risk of losing control to the lowest possible level.

Colin stared at Hewen with wide eyes, his voice changing. "I don't agree."

Hewen faced away from him. "You are not qualified to agree."

"Captain!"

"This is an order."

Colin stood frozen in place as the wind swept snow between them.

Isolde watched Colin's fingers slowly loosen from the crossbow mechanism, then tighten around it again.

He lowered his head. His throat worked several times before he finally forced out a hoarse "Yes" through clenched teeth.

Hewen began removing his outer cloak and weapons.

The witch hunters moved quickly.

They stripped robes from several dead Holy Court monks and selected the most intact one for Isolde.

Isolde changed into the Holy Court monk's robe, tucked her gray cloak beneath it, then rubbed away the mud stains that should not have been on the sleeves with snow.

She tied her hair lower, then finally picked up the Holy Lamp.

The light fell across her face, making the face that belonged to Yu Lingye look more ordinary—and easier to overlook.

The remaining witch hunters began dealing with the corpses.

The older witch hunter took out a bottle of gray powder and scattered it over the footprints. When the wind blew, the tracks vanished cleanly.

Colin said nothing the entire time. He merely helped Hewen remove all his equipment, moving with fierce speed.

Isolde approached with the Holy Lamp, her gaze sweeping over Hewen.

All his weapons had been removed, and his hands were bound behind his back with witch hunter rope clasps.

The knots looked convincing, with a hidden release left in place, but outsiders would not be able to tell.

But there was still one problem. "Too normal."

Isolde raised the lamp, its light shining on his cold, hard face and making his scars appear even sharper.

"You don't look like a prisoner who was just captured."

Hewen understood instantly. Colin understood too.

The young witch hunter's expression turned complicated.

"Can't we use another method?"

Isolde said nothing. She only looked at Hewen, meaning, You decide.

Hewen rolled his neck and spat out a single word.

"Hit me."