Deathly silence.
Absolute silence blanketed the square. Even the wind seemed to have stopped.
The villagers’ sobbing ceased as they stared in terror at the strange girl who had suddenly appeared.
The knights of the Order of the Church looked at each other, seemingly unable to react for a moment.
For the first time, a clear ripple appeared in the icy blue eyes of the blonde female knight—a hint of scrutiny and an almost imperceptible… amusement—as her gaze fell upon Rita.
Irene rushed forward, with Helga, Leila, and the others close behind. Uncle Ansel placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw at any moment if things went south. He knew the young lady far too well.
Rita’s Grandfather—the old exorcist—turned deathly pale. His lips trembled, wanting to shout, but a mix of overwhelming fear and a deeper sense of helplessness gripped his throat.
In the end, all that escaped him was a silent sigh; he didn’t stop his granddaughter’s actions after all.
“Seize her!” The blonde female knight finally spoke, her voice returning to its previous chill, laced with an unquestionable command.
Several knights, having snapped out of their daze, lunged like wolves. Irene stood up and blocked their way, her expression cold as frost.
The knights hesitated, seeing Irene dressed in finery, not daring to advance.
“Rita, what are you saying?!”
After scolding Rita, Irene looked at the knights and explained with a smile, “Sorry, she’s my distant cousin. She always gets these delusions. It’s just her age—she has some unrealistic fantasies, so whatever she says—”
“Irene, don’t stop me! I really… really… am the witch they’ve been looking for…”
Rita abruptly cut Irene off.
Irene turned in shock, scolding, “Rita, what are you talking about? Did something happen to you? Winston, aren’t you going to talk some sense into her?”
But the old man’s response was silence. Irene was confused—your granddaughter’s doing something foolish, shouldn’t you stop her as her elder?
Why are you silent? And you’re all clergy, aren’t you supposed to be better at talking sense than me, an unbeliever?
What the heck!
Rita shook her head, stepped past Irene, and gave her a sorrowful smile. “Irene, I told you, walking with me only brings misfortune. It’s not just because of the curse, but also because… I am the witch wanted by the Church. Nothing good will come to anyone involved with me, will it?”
Irene frowned. “…Rita, are you serious?”
Irene honestly didn’t believe Rita was a witch. How could a witch use Saint Light?
In her view, this girl’s compassion had gotten the better of her. Seeing the Church about to burn innocents, maybe because she herself was clergy, she felt guilt and pity, and wanted to use her own ‘death’ to shock those lunatics awake?
Foolish! That would just be throwing your life away.
That’s what Irene thought. But now the situation was tricky. With Rita insisting she was a witch, even if Irene wanted to defend her, she couldn’t—there was no excuse.
The Church burning Heretics was an unquestioned law of the world.
But Irene also couldn’t just stand by and watch her throw her life away on a whim. She had to find another way to save her. From the moment they met, Irene had felt that Rita was surrounded by a tragic aura.
She thought the ‘curse’ was lifted and everything would be fine, but the curse in her heart was even worse.
How could she just give up her life so easily?
Irene didn’t believe that the death of a woman who confessed to being a witch could stop the madness of the Inquisitors! Only if Rita saw reality for herself and found the will to live, could Irene have a chance to save her.
Rita didn’t struggle as the knights bound her and led her to the stake.
A strange, almost relieved smile appeared on her face.
She tilted her head back, her gaze piercing through the knights escorting her, landing straight on the female knight atop the platform who held the power of life and death. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it rang out clearly:
“So… it’s over now, right?”
Her voice carried a naive hope, as if confirming a beautiful promise.
“The witch… has been caught by you. If I die… your witch hunt… will be over, right? The village… everyone… will be safe, right?”
Her words were like stones dropped into a frozen lake, stirring no ripples of pity.
The blonde female knight looked down at her from above, her face as expressionless as ever.
She tilted her head slightly, as if admiring an amusing object. Then, in a light, almost mocking tone, she shattered the only hope Rita had tried to buy with her life:
“Over?”
“Heh…” A cold chuckle escaped the female knight’s lips.
“Who knows?”
The relief in Rita’s face froze instantly.
The knight’s gaze swept over the cowering villagers, over the charred crosses, and finally returned to Rita’s face, now etched with disbelief and despair. Her voice was as sharp and icy as poisoned shards:
“Witches are cunning and deceitful, masters of disguise. Who’s to say you’re really a witch? Maybe you’re just a deluded fool, or… a pawn the real witch has pushed forward to distract us and buy time?”
She stepped forward, the cold armor reflecting the firelight with ruthless gleam:
“Your confession only proves that there truly are witches here, and that they’re afraid, beginning their death throes! This only shows that our purification… is far from complete!”
She suddenly raised her voice, commanding all the knights:
“Watch her closely! Whether she’s real or not, this girl will be a sacrifice to the gods! As for the others…”
Her gaze, sharp as a blade, swept over the trembling villagers again:
“…Until this tainted land is completely purified, no one will be spared! Divine Judgment will not stop for a single suspicious confessor!”
She paused, then waved to the knights holding torches, her cold voice tolling the final knell for Rita’s sacrifice:
“Light the fire! Let the flame of the gods purify this ‘confessor’s’ soul first! Let’s see… if she’s gold, or merely stone!”
“Remember,” she added, her voice chilling to the bone, “don’t let the fire… go out.”
Hearing the female knight’s icy words, which shattered all her hopes and the meaning of her sacrifice, Rita felt as if her very soul had been sucked away.
Her body went rigid and cold, her blood seeming to freeze.
The knight’s cruel words still buzzed in her ears like venomous bees stinging her nerves, but the shouts of the knights, the villagers’ muffled sobs, the sound of firewood being dragged—all became distant and blurred.
The world before her eyes lost all color.
“No, I really am a witch!! You can ask the Grand Judge, he should have my records! If I die, does it make sense to keep hurting others like this?”
The female knight sneered. “Hurting others? These blasphemers—what right do they have to ask our Lord for mercy? If you truly are a witch, then prove it to me!”
Grand Judge? Oh, he’s far from here. The female knight couldn’t care less about that guy. She was just enjoying the process. As for the result? She didn’t care at all. What she loved was the moment the fire was lit, watching people wail in the flames.
It was always so intoxicating. A girl this lovely—their screams before death would be especially delightful, wouldn’t they?
If the witch was really caught, wouldn’t the fun be over?
So witches must be cunning, full of tricks. How could such a witch walk into a trap herself?
“Alright, you lot, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and let this kind-hearted witch prove herself!”
Seeing the knights still hesitating, the female knight urged impatiently.
But suddenly, a voice stopped the knights in their tracks.
Irene stepped forward, meeting the female knight’s gaze, and asked, “Who decides whether these people are guilty or not?”
“Of course, our supreme Lord.”
“Then, may I ask, where is she?” Irene pressed.
“She is everywhere—high above us, in the hearts of all believers.”
A textbook religious answer, and it fell right into Irene’s trap.
She gave a sly smile. “So, that means anyone can hear the teachings of the gods? Then right now, the gods have given me a Divine Revelation—everyone here is an innocent lamb!”
The female knight was stunned for a moment, staring at Irene as if she were an idiot, her expression twisting with rage. “Are you looking to die? If you fake a Divine Revelation, I don’t care what noble house you’re from—I’ll send you to the stake all the same!!”
“…I’ll prove it to you!” Irene declared, her voice resolute. “Go ahead and light the fire! The innocent, forgiven by the gods, will not die in the flames!”