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"Damn kid, were you the one who knocked down the statue?"

At this mont, a commotion arose from the street. A burly man in a gray church servant’s robe was gripping a half-grown boy’s slender arm tightly, his face flushed with anger.

The boy’s clothes were more tattered than those around him, his face smudged with dirt. Yet, his lips remained tightly pressed together, and his eyes showed no fear, only a defiant fury.

Beside them was a statue that had been newly carved but was already toppled to the ground. The statue depicted a solemn Freemasonry Church clergy holding a scripture. At this mont, the statue’s head was detached from the body, rolling off to the side, appearing sowhat comical.

"It wasn’t ! It fell on its own!" The boy struggled, his voice was clear but rebellious.

"Nonsense! I saw you running away from this direction! This is the statue that Priest Morian personally oversaw the consecration for! Do you know this is blasphemy?" The servant man roared, attracting so apathetic onlookers, but no one dared to approach.

"A statue?" The boy suddenly raised his head and pointed to where the statue originally stood, right at the intersection of several alleys: "Since it was placed here, Grandma Lina ca out at night to pour water, couldn’t see and broke her leg!"

"Little Toby chased after a ball the other day and ran into it, now there’s a bandage on his forehead! It blocks our way and takes the only place we can bask in the sun! What kind of statue is this?"

The boy’s words seed to hit a nerve with so of the onlookers, causing soone to nod subconsciously, but they quickly lowered their head in fear of being noticed by the church servant.

Lynch, who was rely passing by, was drawn by the commotion, and he instinctively turned his head for a glance. When he saw the boy’s face clearly, he was slightly taken aback.

"This face... could it be such a coincidence?"

Though one or two hundred long years had passed, and many mories were covered in dust, Lynch, almost instantly, caught a distant sense of familiarity from the recesses of his forgotten mories. The contour between the eyebrows, the certain charm emanating from the defiant expression...

However, the conflict on the scene did not cease due to his reminiscence, instead, it rapidly escalated.

A few church mbers donning formal priest robes with stern expressions, escorted by a squad of church knights in gleaming priest armor and in neat steps, dispersed the crowd and walked over.

The leading middle-aged priest, about forty, subtly radiated an invisible spiritual field, evidently an official wizard who had stepped into the extraordinary realm. His gaze swept across the scene, carrying an aloof majesty.

The previously arrogant servant instantly adopted a fawning expression, rushed forward, bowed, and embellished his report of the boy’s "blasphemous" conduct.

After hearing the narration, the middle-aged priest’s icy gaze fell on the boy as if looking at an insect that could be crushed at will. His voice wasn’t loud but carried unmistakable judgnt, clearly spreading around:

"Openly toppling and damaging a holy statue is a grave sin of blaspheming ’the one truth’! According to the church’s code, he shall be sentenced to the most severe punishnt, to serve as a warning!"

The few fanatic believers behind him imdiately echoed:

"Master Priest is wise!"

"The blaspher must be purified!"

"Execute him!"

More of the crowd remained silent, but their eyes towards the boy were full of reluctance, sympathy, and deep helplessness. They knew what was about to happen, yet no one dared to speak out.

The boy bit his lower lip so hard that it almost bled. Facing the sudden death sentence, the fervent gazes around him and the cold knights, his small body trembled slightly from fear and anger, his face flushed, and his once defiant eyes now brimd with tears, mixed with despair and reluctance.

A knight had already stepped forward, extending a large hand, covered with armor, to drag him away.

However, at this mont—

"Snap!"

A crisp, unexpected snapping sound echoed like a pebble cast onto a still lake surface.

The sound wasn’t loud, yet it seed to carry so supre ordinance.

Instantly, centered around Lynch, an invisible, mighty force swept forward! The entire world seed to have been paused—

Floating dust froze in mid-air, the priest’s cold expression stiffened, the knight’s outstretched arm halted inches from the boy, every subtle expression on the surrounding people’s faces, whether fervor, numbness, or sympathy, completely froze.

All colors faded at this mont, and everything appeared in a desolate grayscale.

Ti ceased to flow.

In this still world, devoid of color, only that boy scheduled for execution retained his original color, like the only vibrant being in a painting of despair.

He widened his eyes in terror, watching the crowd around him frozen like statues, the priest’s facial expression locked in iciness, the knight’s arm suspended in the air, his small body quivered in incomprehensible fear.

"Don’t be afraid."

However, just then, a gentle yet steady voice suddenly erged. The voice seed to possess a peculiar magic, directly soothing the upheaval in his heart.

The boy turned towards the voice and saw a man with distinct features and gray eyes, different from those around him, calmly walking through the still crowd towards him. The man showed no particular expression, but his eyes were reassuringly deep.

For so reason, the boy felt this stranger would not harm him. His previously rapid breathing gradually cald down, and his racing heart settled.

Lynch approached the boy, squatted down to et his eye level, and softly asked, "Child, can you tell your na?"

The boy looked into those reassuring gray eyes and, without much hesitation, answered honestly, "My na is Alse... Alse Stock."

Lynch repeated for confirmation, "Stock? Your surna is Stock?"

The boy vigorously nodded, "Yeah!"

"I see." Lynch whispered, a tinge of understanding and reminiscence in his tone. He did not ask more questions, only extended his hand and gently held the boy’s dirty little hand. "Co with ."

In the next mont, their figures vanished quietly in the gray world, as if ink rging into water.

Almost the mont they disappeared—

Colors returned like a tide, the frozen air resud its flow, and the suspended sounds erupted once again. Ti returned to its normal flow.

"...Execute him!" The shout of the fervent believer had just ended.

The outstretched knight grabbed at empty air, stumbling from the inertia. He looked in bewildernt at his empty grasp, then at the vacated spot on the ground before him, his face filled with confusion.

"Where’s the person? That little blaspher, where is he?"

"What happened? He was just here a mont ago!"

"How did he disappear in the blink of an eye?"

The crowd erupted in commotion, filled with startled debates and everyone searching around, yet they could no longer find any trace of the boy.

anwhile, the priest who once displayed a cold deanor, radiating a spiritual field, found his face drastically changed, first in disbelief, then it turned exceptionally awkward, and finally, a mixture of incredulity and profound fear climbed onto his face.

He could clearly feel that just in that instant, a terrifying force, beyond his understanding or resistance, had descended, and had effortlessly taken the target without his awareness.

This was no ordinary spell!

He abruptly turned to the knight captain beside him, his voice trembling slightly with fear and shouted sharply:

"Quick! Sound the church bell! Maximum alert! A wizard has invaded! A... a powerful wizard!"

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