The abandoned mine was already tightly surrounded by a massive army.
Sophie could feel an overwhelming aura pressing in on her.
Legendary Rank Nine…
“Who would’ve thought that in such a desolate place, a master like you would be hiding in plain sight.”
Looking at Lord Martin, who approached slowly with a giant axe in hand, Sophie’s expression grew grave as she faced him.
“Hmph, come to think of it, I have you witches to thank for this.”
Lord Martin smiled slightly at her words and patted his broad chest. “If it weren’t for you witches wreaking havoc in the wastelands, how would Your Excellency the Bishop have taken notice of me, or how would I have received the blessing of the Divine Grace?”
Divine Grace?
So that’s it.
Witch Sophie immediately understood why the man before her possessed such outstanding strength, even though he’d shown no sign of it before.
“The Light God’s blessing, is it.” A hint of worry flashed in Sophie’s eyes.
Witches were powerful.
But why did those who ruled the human world not possess innate spellcasting ability or powerful psychic talents like the witches did?
It was because of the Church of Light—no, even more so, because of the Light God standing behind them.
An existence capable of ignoring the laws of physics and descending Miracles from on high.
In the Light, no darkness could hide.
So even though witches were far stronger than mortals and even most spellcasters, they could only skulk about, hiding in the shadows.
“Scared now, are you?” Lord Martin snorted, shooting a sidelong glance at the confused townsfolk of Falling Leaf Town, then continued in a loud voice: “People of Falling Leaf Town, you have all been deceived.”
“This vile witch has tricked you, turned black into white by taking advantage of your kindness.”
Lord Martin’s voice echoed through the mine.
“But…” The townsman who had just stood by Sophie’s side to defend her spoke up hesitantly, “It’s all thanks to Miss Sophie that we survived the Long Winter…”
“The Long Winter!” As if he’d caught onto a fatal weakness, Lord Martin pressed in step by step, continuing to question, “Have you all forgotten why this world has Long Winters, famine, plague, and all those disasters? They are all the handiwork of witches!”
“That’s right!”
The bishop beside Lord Martin joined in, saying, “Good people of Falling Leaf Town, I understand that as mere mortals, you cannot see through the illusions before you.”
Your Excellency the Bishop sighed compassionately, gazing earnestly at the crowd, his voice imbued with a kind of magic that instantly drew all the townsfolk’s attention.
“But you need not fear! The great and benevolent Light God will surely forgive your sins as long as you sincerely repent. The Light God’s grace will grant you eternal happiness!”
Without giving anyone time to breathe or think, Your Excellency the Bishop waved his hand and pointed to the piles of white bones scattered around Sophie.
“Did you not just witness with your own eyes the witch’s true nature? That hateful, evil, hideous, and terrifying power?”
Your Excellency the Bishop squatted down, picked up a bone from the ground without any distaste for its filth, and cradled it in his arms, continuing in his gentle voice, “Ah, I know you are angry—angry at those bandits for kidnapping you without rhyme or reason—but, but think carefully…”
“During the Long Winter, did you not do things to survive that broke the moral code? And back then, how did the priests of the Church of Light treat you?”
Your Excellency the Bishop’s sincere and moving words instantly touched the crowd.
But even more importantly…
What the Bishop said was true, all of it real.
“Y-yes, that’s right.” The man who’d just defended Sophie bowed his head in shame. “Last Long Winter, I stole the steward’s wallet to pay for my wife’s medicine. I was caught and about to be hanged. It was the priest who spoke up for me, so I survived.”
“The Bishop is right. And among those who kidnapped us just now, many weren’t bandits—they were townsfolk from Falling Leaf Town too.”
“Come to think of it, why did we take in so many outsiders in our good old town? It’s hard enough for me to find work as it is!”
The townsfolk’s voices once again surged into an unstoppable torrent, but this time, their target shifted completely.
Sophie stared blankly at the townspeople, who suddenly changed their stance.
“You…how can you say such things about Sister Sophie!”
Resting in Sophie’s arms, Mary raised her head, bruised all over and exhausted from the bandits’ beating, yet still stubbornly propping herself up, arguing fiercely for Sophie: “Sister Sophie invented so many things for everyone! Have you all forgotten?”
The girl’s watery eyes brimmed with tears, as if she couldn’t believe the normally kind residents would turn on her so suddenly.
“If Sister Sophie heard you say these things, she’d be so heartbroken!”
Facing the townsfolk’s accusatory gazes, the petite Mary stood firm in the snow, determined and upright even as her strength failed, her eyes steadfast as she cried out, “You bad people, you ungrateful fools—you don’t deserve Sister Sophie or Lord’s protection!”
Mary’s voice rippled through the crowd like a stone thrown into a pond.
But it did not move them as she’d hoped.
“Heh.”
Your Excellency the Bishop smiled wordlessly at the townsfolk, whose stance had already changed, then picked up where Mary left off: “Inventions, is it? Well then, my beloved followers of the Light God, let me reveal the truth of these so-called witch inventions!”
Buzz—
Raising his crystal ball high, the Bishop projected image after image.
Ruined walls, lifeless wastelands, raging fires, a symphony of tragedies painted a song of despair, leaving a deep shock in everyone’s hearts.
“Light Era 541: The Despair Witch, in her pursuit of an immortal body, massacred tens of thousands in Blackrock City in one fell swoop.”
The Bishop began listing calamities caused by witches, each one described in simple terms. As he spoke, the townsfolk’s eyes changed as they looked at Sophie.
If at first they hesitated and felt unsure—swayed only by the Church of Light’s years of propaganda and reputation, unwilling to stand with Sophie—
Then, as the Bishop exposed the facts, their gazes toward Sophie changed completely.
Sophie was all too familiar with those looks.
Hatred.
“No, that’s not true, everyone, don’t be deceived!”
Mary cried out, tears blurring her vision. “Sister Sophie is a good person, you can’t bully her, or—or Lord Brother will come for revenge!”
“Lord?” As if hearing a joke, Your Excellency the Bishop threw back his head and sneered, “Hahaha, are you talking about that useless dandy, a mere First-Circle Mage?”
“Let me tell you the truth. The First Truth Knight has already gone to deal with him for the grave sin of harboring a witch. To die at the hands of the great First Truth Knight is a mercy!”
The Bishop yawned. “In fact, we have you to thank, Bewildering Witch. You’ve given us the chance to deal with a human traitor and catch the Elven Court’s envoy at the same time.”
The First Truth Knight?
The First Knight blessed directly by the Light God?
Sophie’s body went rigid.
If Jessica was someone she could barely handle at her peak, then the First Truth Knight was a being even the Bewildering Witch could only hope to escape from.
The Lord…that idiot, Green…was dead?
“It’s all because of you, Sophie.”
No, no, no!
It’s all because of me, it’s all my fault…
Struck by the crushing blow, old memories Sophie thought she’d forgotten began to surface in her mind.
Crackling!
In the wild forest, roaring flames seemed intent on devouring all happiness, consuming everything in sight.
“Grandmother! Grandmother!”
Helpless, Sophie screamed and cried.
“Catch that witch, don’t let her escape!” Several men dressed as villagers closed in on her.
Looking back one last time at the cottage reduced to ruins, Sophie turned and ran, not daring to stop.
“Witch, just give up and surrender!”
One of the greedy-faced men chasing her leered, “Heh, look at this one—this witch is a real looker. Why don’t we just…?”
“Giggle, you always have the best ideas.”
The leering man lifted something in his hand.
Drip, drip.
Blood dripped down.
A shriveled head came into Sophie’s view.
Her grandmother.
That annoying old witch who always tried to restrict her, who never let her leave the forest.
“The old witch who protected you is dead, little witch. Just let us have our fun, and maybe, if I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you live.”
The leader casually tossed the old woman’s head to the ground, closing in on the little Sophie.
Grandmother, grandmother…
Sophie stared in a daze at the anxious face, wrinkled and ugly even in death, but—
She was Sophie’s only tie to this world.
Snap.
Something in Sophie’s mind broke.
Whoosh, whoosh—
The wind howled, and Sophie lost consciousness.
Boom!!!
When she came to, all she saw was a sea of endless corpses.
Who was she?
Sophie?
No, you are not Sophie. That human name isn’t your true self.
Then who am I?
Bewildered and lost, Sophie fell silent for a long while, confusion lingering in her eyes.
If I know nothing, then…perhaps I am Bewilderment itself?
From then on, the girl called Sophie died, replaced by a powerful witch, always hunted by the Church of Light yet always surviving.
The Bewildering Witch.
That was her true identity.
Until one day, she came to Falling Leaf Town, tried to save a villager girl, but accidentally exposed herself and, drained of magic, nearly died at the stake.
That should have been her fate.
But—
The Bewildering Witch met a big idiot.
So she started using the human name Sophie again.
Until now.
Whoosh, whoosh!
A torrent of pitch-black aura erupted in a furious gale, crimson bloodlight flared from Sophie, bringing destruction with it, and hideous tentacles burst from the void.
The Bewildering Witch had returned.
“Hahaha, do you see that?” Your Excellency the Bishop, seeing Sophie’s transformation, was not afraid but instead thrilled, addressing the townsfolk: “The true face of the witch!”
“No, don’t, Sister Sophie!”
Seeing something was wrong, Mary rushed over, sobbing as she threw herself at Sophie. “Don’t fall for it—Lord Brother, Lord Brother will find a way!”
Hearing Mary’s cries, the Bewildering Witch was torn.
Kill him, kill him, kill him!
Kill those bastards who killed Green!
But, but—they are the people Green cherished most.
No, Green is already dead!
No, no, no…what should I do?
The Bewildering Witch was lost in bewilderment.
“Exactly, just like that.” The Bishop looked at the fully-guarded Lord Martin beside him, speaking solemnly: “Lord Martin, you see? There’s no need to fear a witch’s power.”
“They may be strong, but their minds are fragile. Just sever their connections to humanity…”
The Bishop concluded, “Victory will belong to us, the side of justice.”
“No…no…” Mary’s eyes were red from crying, her sobs unceasing. “Wuwuwu…Lord Brother, hurry, please, come save Sister Sophie!”
Plop.
Tears slid down her cheeks, falling onto the snow with a clear sound.
“Hey, Mary.”
Hmm?
Hearing the familiar voice, the desperate, helpless girl looked up on instinct.
“Who made our little Mary cry?” A familiar face wore a comforting smile. “Did you drop your doll?”
Green picked up the cloth doll lying in the snow.
“Master!” Mary shouted with joy, “You finally came—please, please save Sister Sophie!”
“Mm.”
Green nodded emphatically, then turned to the stunned Bishop and the newly ascended Truth Knight, Lord Martin.
“Y-you, aren’t you supposed to be dead?” The Bishop asked in disbelief, “Killed by the First…First Knight?”
“Who said I was dead?” Green replied, baffled. “As for this First Truth Knight you mentioned…uh, you mean this guy?”
Green opened his tightly clenched fist.
Thud.
A twisted face appeared in the white snow, wretched and horrible.
The Church of Light’s First Truth Knight was dead—killed by an unknown nobody.
Green had slain the First Truth Knight.
“Hey, Miss Sophie.”
He looked over at Sophie, who was about to lose control, and handed her the cloth doll. “You look terrible. Is it because you couldn’t find the doll I gave you?”
“Idiot.” Feeling the rough texture of the doll in her hands, Sophie smiled.
Her smile was truly beautiful—enough to make any scenery pale in comparison.
In an instant, that dense darkness vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed at all.