Faced with the bishop’s hostage threat, Green chose to ignore it without a care.
The townsfolk, firmly trapped by the formation, began to stir uneasily.
“How, how could this happen? Lord, save us!”
“Sophie, Miss Sophie, please, persuade Lord Green! Ask him to lend us a hand!”
“And Mary, I just sold you ingredients at the Free Market—don’t abandon us now!”
One desperate plea after another drifted back and forth throughout the mine.
But not a ripple could be seen on Green’s face, as if he truly cared nothing for the lives of these townspeople.
He gently wiped the seemingly ordinary Old Sword in his hand, raised his eyes calmly, and fixed them on the bishop, whose face had lost all color.
“Speaking of which, the blood of you so-called Truth Knights from the church…”
Green glanced in disgust at the blood at his feet, crimson tinged with an oddly sinister black. “Why does it look so dirty?”
Dirty?
Sophie looked up in surprise toward where Green pointed.
There, blood was spreading from Lord Martin’s remains, faintly exuding a foul aura. While it appeared calm and unremarkable to most, hidden within was a power Sophie knew all too well.
“That’s… the Witch’s Power?”
Sophie’s eyes widened, her throat suddenly dry.
As a witch hunted by the church for years, Sophie could not be more familiar with that power.
It was the source that had accompanied her through countless days and nights, granting her strength far beyond mortals, yet bringing endless pain and loneliness, never accepted by others, forcing her to hide in constant fear and suspicion.
Cursed blood.
But why would a Truth Knight—who should have been pure and holy, a symbol of light and justice—carry that power?
Divine grace.
Shouldn’t it be the complete opposite of the Witch’s Power, full of sacred radiance?
Sophie’s eyes brimmed with confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
The bishop’s already pale face grew even more rigid. His expression was a mess, lips trembling again and again, yet when faced with undeniable evidence, he could not summon his usual eloquence.
“How interesting.”
Crouching down, Green reached out to touch the soil stained with Lord Martin’s blood.
Zzz!
The instant Green, wielding the Light of Truth, touched the ground, a sizzling sound arose and black gas surged up, rippling through the air.
“Although your Illusion Spell is well done, normally no one would notice the flaw.”
Retracting his hand, Green once more looked at the bishop, a playful tone in his words.
“It’s just… I don’t know why, but in front of the Light of Truth…”
Buzz——
A vast and inviolable divine aura burst forth from Green’s palm.
“All disguises are revealed.”
Boom!!!
Holy light flashed, shining equally on everyone.
Noble or humble, enemy or ally, the purest energy emanating from Green, free of any personal will, instantly enveloped everyone.
“Ah, aaahhhhh!”
The bishop’s aged body began to emit black smoke. The filthy power—echoing Sophie’s own painful memories and the force that lurked in her soul—eerily resurfaced on the bishop himself.
“No, it can’t be like this!” The bishop collapsed, clutching his head and writhing in agony. “The Oracle of the High Priestess can’t possibly be wrong…”
“In fact.”
Green walked unhurriedly to the bishop, admiring his wretched appearance, so different from his previous elegant composure.
“Your so-called divine grace, your so-called Light of Truth.”
Green’s voice wasn’t loud, yet somehow everyone heard it clearly.
“It all comes from the Soul of the Witch, doesn’t it?”
Green’s words thundered through Sophie’s heart.
The same?!
A witch and a Truth Knight…
Cursed, filthy blood and the blessings of divine grace…
Aren’t they supposed to be polar opposites?
But—
Watching the bishop, his true form laid bare under Green’s so-called holy light, that familiar aura unmistakable and unmasked.
The evidence was conclusive.
The Church of Light, which had been hunting witches, used the same power as the witches themselves.
“No, it’s not like that!” The bishop struggled to withstand the pain, suddenly raising his head and raving at the onlookers, “We, we are not the same as the witches!”
“We can control that chaotic power, we can bind it and make it serve us! But the witches… their very existence only brings instability and disaster at any moment!”
The bishop’s self-justifying rhetoric flashed through the drifting snow.
Bang.
Green lifted his wretched form by the collar. “Oh, is that so?”
He glanced at Sophie, who was trembling all over, visibly shaken by the truth. His tone was cold as he pressed, “Yes, the Witch’s Power is indeed unstable. Indeed, if that power runs out of control, it brings disaster.”
“Haha, that’s right! Exactly!” Seeing Green agreeing, the bishop hurriedly added, “So, Lord Green, why bother protecting that witch?”
“Yes, I admit you’re strong, but—but the High Priestess’s power is beyond your imagination…”
The bishop looked at Green with ingratiating eyes, speaking smoothly, “Besides, the whole human world is under our church’s influence. Once the High Priestess gives the order, you and your Fallen Leaf Town will become enemies of all mankind!”
“But on the other hand, if you hand over the Lost Witch, not only will the church reward you handsomely, but with your strength, you could become a Truth Knight, no—a First Knight!”
The bishop’s offer was indeed tempting.
But Green only chuckled softly after hearing him out, then looked toward the depths of the nearby forest.
“Hey, Miss Jessica, you heard everything this bishop just said, didn’t you?”
Jessica?
The Seventh Truth Knight?
Wonderful!
The bishop’s eyes lit up, his face like a drowning man grasping his last straw, and he shouted frantically toward the woods, “Seventh Truth Knight, Seventh Truth Knight, come quickly and help me!”
“You hate witches more than anyone! Look, this lord is protecting a witch!”
The bishop called out with teary eyes to the graceful figure approaching.
“…”
What answered the bishop was a long silence.
“So, Lord Green, everything you told me before—was it true?”
Jessica completely ignored the bishop, or her former ally, instead fixing her gaze firmly on the Green she once loathed.
“The church has been stirring up humanity’s hatred of witches all along, just to isolate them from the human world, drive them into despair and loss of control, then rightfully hunt them down and harvest their power?”
Jessica’s pale face was marked by inexpressible sorrow.
“It’s exactly as you say.”
Green reached out and drew the utterly bewildered Sophie into his arms. “So, Sophie, do you understand now?”
“You did nothing wrong.”
Looking at the tearful witch, Green repeated each word clearly: “You witches are not a mistake!”
“The ones at fault are those vile people who covet your natural power and have slandered your gifts.”
Green placed the Old Sword in Sophie’s hands. “So don’t hesitate, don’t be afraid. Use this sword to end it all.”
I did nothing wrong?
Countless scenes flashed through Sophie’s mind.
Shunned by humanity, friends who one moment were warm, the next turned to hunt her upon learning her identity.
Sleepless nights, fearing she’d lose control and cause disaster.
Grandmother.
Fellow witches she’d met by chance, only to suffer misfortune.
Everything, all of it…
So, none of it was her fault?
All the grievances, frustration, pain, and despair in Sophie’s heart—all her negative emotions—were in this moment transformed, transformed into a raging fire.
At the bishop. At the Church of Light. At those who claimed to fight for humanity, but in truth only coveted the witches’ power.
“Kill him.”
Green gazed at her with conviction.
“No, no, wait!” Realizing the situation was dire, the bishop shouted frantically, “No, if you kill me, the High Priestess of Radiant City—she’ll unite all human forces to hunt you down!”
“Oh?”
Hearing the bishop’s incoherent threat, Green only sneered, “By all means, let her try.”
“No, and what about the townsfolk—”
Thud.
The formation that once glowed a sinister red suddenly ceased.
“Sorry, Bishop.” Jessica, the Seventh Truth Knight, looked on coldly. “But my authority within the church is actually higher than yours.”
“…” The bishop stared at Sophie in terror—the witch he once saw as nothing but a lamb for slaughter.
“Die.”
Boom!
With a thunderous roar, the confusion in Sophie’s heart was swept away.
The Lost Witch was lost no longer.
She smiled joyfully and looked at Green.
“Thank you.”
Witch Sophie reached out, grabbing Green—who was about to leave and deal with the fleeing enemies—pulling him back.
“Uh, Miss Sophie,” Green said awkwardly, “what is it?”
“Big idiot.”
Sophie pulled Green before her, lifted her small face, and pressed her warm lips to his.
“…” Jessica watched their intimate moment, her expression complex.
“Miss Jessica?” A clear voice sounded in the Truth Knight’s ear. “Do you… like Lord Green the way Sister Sophie does?”
“Of course not!”
Jessica denied it at once. “I’m just—I’m just curious about what his so-called holy light really is, and, and thinking about what we’ll do if the High Priestess intervenes herself!”
“Hehe, someone’s blushing…”
Mary’s silvery laughter rang out in the snowy field, lingering for a long time.
Radiant City.
Grand Temple.
On a high platform, a solitary figure gazed up at the starry sky.
“Your Eminence, High Priestess.”
A figure in black robes approached that graceful silhouette, bowing low. “The Fear Witch has been slain. The Truth Knights are recovering her power. As for witches still alive… only the Lost Witch remains.”
The black-clad man announced the identity of the last witch.
The High Priestess didn’t reply at once, only fell silent for a moment.
“The Lost Witch is already dead.”
Her voice echoed through the grand hall. “But she’s also become even more troublesome.”
The black-robed man lowered his head and listened.
“The First Knight I sent, and the newly appointed Truth Knight, both failed their tasks.”
The High Priestess pondered a moment. “Deliver my Oracle—seal off Fallen Leaf Town…and the entire Wasteland.”
“Yes!”
The black-robed man bowed deeply. “For a bright and pure future for humanity!”
With that, he hurried off to carry out the High Priestess’s orders.
“Bright and pure, is it…”
Alone atop the high platform, the High Priestess fell into deep thought. “Once I absorb the Fear Witch’s power, and add the Lost Witch’s power, everything will be in place.”
“For humanity, I have no other choice.”
Gazing at the full moon in the star-studded sky, the High Priestess muttered softly.
In her eyes, the moon—gentle and radiant to all others—was now shrouded in crimson.
“The Blood Moon is coming.”
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