The middle-aged witch doctor bowed deeply to Matthew. "I didn't realize I was in the presence of a Martial League official. What brings you here, sir?"
Matthew sat in a chair, casually picking up the medical book the witch doctor had been reading—a copy of The Great Pharmacopoeia. "What do you think brings me here?"
A flicker of malice flashed in the witch doctor's eyes, but he quickly suppressed it, mindful of Matthew's possible high-ranking status within the Martial League. "I have spent years practicing medicine. While I can't claim to have saved countless lives, I have always strived to do good and help others. So, I truly don't understand why the Martial League would seek me out."
A cold smile appeared on Matthew's lips as he effortlessly shredded the Great Pharmacopoeia in his hands, the fragments floating down like confetti in the room. His voice turned icy as if it could freeze the witch doctor where he stood. "Using your medical practice to plant subliminal suggestions in people's minds… truly a clever trick of the witch clan."
The witch doctor's previously calm expression twitched slightly. Deep within his eyes, shock and disbelief surfaced. He hadn't expected Matthew to discover something he had kept so carefully hidden.
"I don't understand what you're accusing me of, sir. I've treated the people of Dewsbury for years, always out in the open for all to see. As for your accusations of mind manipulation, I've never even heard of such a thing," the witch doctor said, feigning ignorance.
Matthew watched him, unimpressed by his act. If he hadn't personally seen the witch doctor's methods earlier, he might have believed him. The witch doctor's deception was subtle but not enough to escape Matthew's notice.
From what Matthew could observe, this technique seemed to be unique to the witch doctor. If all the witch doctors possessed such an ability, the Martial League would have noticed by now. It was likely that only this one individual had mastered the method, and by using it selectively, he had avoided drawing the Martial League's attention.
"I am Matthew Larson, the Lecarres Summit Warden, head of the Martial League Summit Wardens, and the Martial League President of the Southaven and Skargness provinces.
The witch doctor's eyes flickered with alarm, and his animosity grew stronger. His secret had evidently been discovered by this high-ranking Martial League official.
He hesitated, debating whether to summon the rest of his clan. From Matthew's position and authority, it seemed that a single command from him would make it impossible for the witch clan to remain in Dewsbury—or perhaps even to leave the city alive. But if he could gather the clan members quickly enough and deal with Matthew before the Martial League could respond, they might have a chance to escape.
He thought of Montiria, where the witch clan was rumored to significantly influence the royal family. If they could flee there, they might live well under the protection of the kingdom.
The witch clan rarely used modern communication networks, relying instead on their internal system. The witch doctor had no idea that the Martial League forces stationed outside Willow Alley would immediately retaliate even if Matthew stood motionless and allowed them to strike.
Errol, taking no chances, had even deployed heavy firepower, including sniper rifles stationed at key vantage points around the alley. What was more, Matthew held the rank of regent in Montiria. If the witch clan fled there after harming him, they would be executed for treason against the country.
"Chief Healer, I acknowledge that you and the witch doctors have indeed done good for the people over the years. I'm not an unreasonable man. I'm offering your witch clan an opportunity."
Matthew's offer caused the witch doctor's murderous intent to waver. The clan had lived in Dewsbury for decades, and they didn't want to leave their home unless absolutely necessary.
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