What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

At 2:45 in the afternoon, the plazas in front of the cathedrals of the Four Great Churches established in the Southeastern Major Diocese were already packed with people.

This was a traditional event of the Holy Spirit Festival. Every year on this afternoon, the Four Great Churches would simultaneously hold a public preaching speech in the plazas before their respective cathedrals, delivered by the Son of the Church and Saintess selected from within their own churches.

After the speeches concluded, the churches’ bishops would jointly perform blessings, demonstrating divine miracles to the public. These carefully arranged performances always guaranteed spectacular visual effects, striving to leave every spectator in awe.

Therefore, every year during the speeches, the plazas of all four cathedrals would be filled with pilgrims and nearby residents. It was the most grand public program that the Church offered to the people during the Holy Spirit Festival.

To manage the crowds, the major churches of the Southeastern Major Diocese had dispatched personnel to maintain order and conduct joint patrols.

At this moment, the plaza before the Creator Church cathedral was also a sea of people, and the number of attendees here was the largest among the Four Great Churches.

The simultaneous preaching speeches of the Four Great Churches also carried a sense of competition, aiming to improve the quality of speeches and performances. Having fewer attendees than the other churches was not a major issue, but if too many people were drawn away and the gap became too large, it would be rather embarrassing.

Most of the time, the Creator Church always ranked first in the number of people it attracted.

The Creator was the origin god who created matter, the patron deity of craftsmen and artisans. The Creator also governed the weather, so farmers and sailors often prayed to Him as well. As a result, there were many believers whose primary faith was in the Creator.

However, the main reason such a huge crowd gathered was that the miracles performed by the Creator Church were the most visually spectacular. The Creator’s Blessing could manipulate various phenomena of matter—burning, glowing, electrical discharge————with numerous bishops and knights arranging them together to create dazzling visual effects.

During last year’s Holy Spirit Festival, the Creator Church’s performance created an aurora in the sky—something said to appear naturally only in extremely cold regions. Using the sky as a curtain, beams of light formed the illusion of the Creator wielding a hammer. With every movement, thunder and lightning flashed across the heavens, leaving the audience profoundly shaken.

Weiss had already finished applying light makeup and arranging her hair at the observation platform near the church entrance with the help of a nun.

She stood up and walked to the window, glancing at the vast crowd outside in the plaza. Then she looked toward the viewing stands on both sides of the plaza, where dozens of bishops and knights dressed in formal attire were already seated. Most of them were members of the Creator Church who had come to show support.

The public gathered in the plaza, while the seats in the stands were reserved for Church personnel, and only those holding official ranks were qualified to sit there.

She saw many familiar faces from the Church among the stands, but she did not see Leon.

The speech was about to begin. Had something delayed him? Or had something else suddenly come up?

What Weiss did not know was that during the gathering earlier, Leon had intended to find an opportunity to inform her that he had matters to attend to and could not come to the speech. However, after greeting the Count Foyle, many people acquainted with the Earl had begun approaching Leon to converse.

By the time Leon finished dealing with them and tried to find Weiss, she had already left early to prepare for the speech.

For a moment, Weiss’s attention fell upon the small pouch hanging from the sash over her nun’s robe. Inside it was the small magic mirror.

As the creator of the magic mirror, she had a way to control whether the two mirrors displayed their own reflections or each other’s image. Therefore, she did not need to worry about privacy leaks. She could carry it with her at any time and even use it as an ordinary mirror.

However, she soon dismissed the thought of contacting Leon with the magic mirror. First, the current situation made it inconvenient. Second, even if Leon had brought the other mirror to the diocese to leave messages conveniently, he might not necessarily carry it on him at all times.

Besides, whether Leon attended the speech was not particularly important. She also did not want him to force himself to spend time on this out of politeness.

“Bishop Weiss, it’s almost time,” a nun reminded her.

“Alright, I’m coming.” Bishop Weiss withdrew her gaze from outside the window.

At this moment, a Delegate Officer responsible for setting up the lectern conducted the final inspection on the stage. Afterward, he quickly stepped down from the lectern and passed through a tent temporarily erected as a waiting area.

He exchanged a few words of thanks with his colleagues before slipping into a corner and changing out of his uniform.

Right now, everyone busy preparing the preaching speech—from bishops to attendants—was focused on the situation at the lectern.

After finding a perfect moment when no one was paying attention to him, he quietly slipped away, glancing around cautiously while swiftly leaving the scene.

At the same time, in a tower within the Creator Church cathedral, the Count Foyle stood on a balcony leaning on his cane. Beside him was Zeven, the diocesan leader accompanying him on this visit. With the Count Foyle’s power in the east, even someone of Zeven’s status as a Cardinal had to personally receive him.

Most clergymen of the local churches came from noble families in the east, and Zeven himself was no exception. Among the eastern nobles, the Count Foyle held the greatest prestige. If Zeven wished to manage this major diocese properly, he had to maintain good relations with great nobles like the Earl.

“The last time I came to attend the Holy Spirit Festival was at least five years ago,” the Count Foyle remarked.

“Then why does Your Lordship happen to have the leisure to honor us with your presence this time?” Zeven asked with a smile.

“After all, it’s exactly the three-hundredth anniversary. It would be a pity not to attend at least once.” The Count Foyle stared at the lectern in the distance without blinking.

“Are you certain you will only watch the Creator Church’s speech? The archbishops over at the Church of the God of War are eagerly hoping you will show your face there,” Zeven said.

The Count Foyle was a retired Knight Commander who originally came from the Church of the God of War, and he had the closest relationship with them. Many of his old friends were still there.

Therefore, when the Count Foyle had voluntarily proposed visiting the Creator Church’s preaching speech, Zeven had actually been somewhat surprised.

“There will be plenty of time for socializing at the banquet later. For now, let me relax and watch some performances. When I was young, I even participated in martial demonstrations at the Church of the God of War myself. It’s truly exhausting, and I’ve seen enough of it already. I’ve always heard that the performance after the Creator Church’s preaching speech is magnificent, but unfortunately I never had the chance to witness it.” The Count Foyle smiled.

“Let us hope this performance does not disappoint you,” Zeven said as he also shifted his gaze into the distance.

“I’m certain it won’t disappoint me,” the Count Foyle replied meaningfully.

After all, he had spent many years preparing for this grand performance.

From their position, the plaza was rather far away, but the elevated vantage point allowed them to see the entire square clearly.

From here, they could also see a procession of Church knights on the distant avenue, patrolling the streets as a ceremonial guard and slowly advancing toward the road beside the plaza. The one leading them was Bishop Beckett, who served in the Southeastern Major Diocese and had returned to his post to direct operations after the gathering ended.

Under the attention of countless eyes, the Saintess of the Creator finally stepped onto the lectern. The moment she appeared, a wave of discussion erupted across the plaza.

Her long hair was black like ebony, her skin pale as snow. She was tall, and her face gave off a cool and distant impression.

Weiss had only been selected as Saintess last year and had not managed to attend the previous Holy Spirit Festival in time. This was the first time she appeared publicly before so many citizens in the image of the Saintess.

Both the Son of the Church and the Saintess were carefully selected young individuals by the Church—people with outstanding appearance, temperament, ability, and even background—who would promote the Church among the public. Beauty captured people’s hearts, and appearance played an undeniable role in shaping public image. Throughout history, every Son of the Church and Saintess had gained at least some supporters among the populace.

However, the Son of the Church and Saintess would usually be promoted to Archbishop fairly quickly, after which new ones would replace them. Each new term inevitably became a topic of discussion among the public.

Weiss paid no attention to the public’s reactions and calmly began her speech.

“Dear brothers and sisters, dear fellow travelers, may the Creator’s blessing be with you. Today we gather here with the same devout faith, sharing the grace bestowed upon us by the divine craftsman who forged all things————”

A rune floated above the lectern, amplifying Weiss’s clear voice and transmitting it to every corner of the plaza.

The people in the front rows listened attentively. They had arrived early to secure their places and were extremely devout believers, among them many pilgrims who had traveled great distances.

Only one person was different.

Within the crowded mass of people stood a beautiful woman wearing a nun’s robe identical to those of the surrounding crowd. Her face was veiled, and her eyes were filled with a smiling gaze as she looked up at Weiss on the lectern together with everyone else.

The Great Witch, Arachne.

With a slight movement of her will, inside a sealed compartment beneath the lectern, a bottle cracked open. The Witch’s blood mixed with a magical potion began to seep out from the fracture. Bright red and viscous, it expanded as if boiling. One after another, blood-colored bat-like Magical Beasts struggled out from the thick frothing blood.

The foundational blessing of a Third-Rank Witch—using blood as a medium to fuse with mana and temporarily create and summon Magical Beasts.

Everything happened within only a few breaths.

Weiss paused slightly, sensing something faintly.

The pause was not particularly abrupt, but a few people noticed the change in Weiss’s expression, especially those in the front rows.

Some even heard rustling sounds coming from inside the lectern.

Before anyone could fully react, the lectern made of redwood suddenly burst apart like an overinflated balloon.

Everything happened so suddenly.

The exploding blood mist instantly engulfed the unprepared Weiss. A swarm of Bloodsucking Mosquito Bats surged out from the blood fog, simultaneously charging toward Weiss and the crowd in the plaza. Screams erupted everywhere in an instant.

Weiss hurriedly retreated backward. Seeing the Magical Beasts rushing toward her, she instinctively used her blessing. Moisture in the surrounding air instantly gathered and formed a thin wall of ice before her. Under the effect of her blessing, it became extraordinarily solid, and the Bloodsucking Mosquito Bats froze firmly onto it the moment they collided with the ice wall.

However, in the next moment, an intense feeling of suffocation suddenly struck.

The power of her blessing began to rapidly fade, replaced by another surge of mana that began to churn uncontrollably.

Weiss realized that something within the blood mist earlier had infiltrated her body.

She tried to suppress the mana with sheer willpower, but it had no effect. Her body began to transform beyond her control. Her jet-black hair faded from the roots as if losing its color, rapidly turning silver-white, while the blood drained from her skin.

The afternoon sunlight shone upon the earth, and the entire world suddenly became dazzlingly blinding in her eyes. The sunlight striking her body caused waves of burning pain.

Within the crowd that had already descended into chaos due to the Bloodsucking Mosquito Bats, Arachne blended into the fleeing crowd and retreated along with them.

At the same time, from beneath the hem of her skirt crawled out venomous Magical Beast spiders. They began leaping onto people’s legs amid the chaos, biting viciously and injecting deadly venom. Soon, some people collapsed into shock, plunging the scene into even greater disorder.

“This magical potion cost me quite a bit,” Arachne murmured with a venomous smile beneath her veil. “Let your believers see your true form.”

“Enjoy it well, Saintess.”

Weiss could no longer control her blessing. The ice wall shattered instantly, revealing her current appearance before everyone.

A woman’s scream suddenly rang out from the crowd.

“It’s a Witch!!”