If everything was destined to end this way—if she was fated to die as the Great Witch—then what had been the point of all her efforts? She had betrayed, survived, fled… all for what? The blood of the Great Witch was a relentless fate she couldn’t sever on her own. So why had she even tried to erase the Great Witch’s lineage?

Maybe it would have been easier to follow her mother’s path, accepting the role of the Great Witch and devoting her entire life to it until the end. Why had she chosen this difficult road? Perhaps, from the start, she had been pouring all her strength into an impossible wish.

The rain grew heavier, nearly blurring her vision. Drenched from head to toe, Vienny turned her back to Corsus and stared silently out at the sea.

The horizon that had been clear just moments before had vanished, with the sky and ocean merging into an indistinct haze. Perhaps what she saw wasn’t even the distant view but simply raindrops clinging to her eyelashes, blurring her vision.

All she wanted now was to rest.

Vienny slowly crouched down where she stood. Seeing her lack of response, Corsus moved on to complete the preparations. Whether she continued or not, Vienny remained huddled there, her head buried in her arms. The steady sound of rain pouring down around her filled her ears, making her feel as though her body itself was dissolving into the water.

Her mind gradually emptied, growing blank. The warmth of her own body, curled up against herself, felt almost unbearably hot.

Biting her lip to hold back her sobs, Vienny squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to hear the sound of the waves, but the relentless rain drowned everything out.

“Vienny, it’s ready. Come here.”

Corsus pulled Vienny to her feet. The witches had gathered in a circle, one holding a sword, another something that looked like a cup. Other items were scattered around, though it was hard to tell what they were through the blur.

Ignoring Vienny’s injured ankle, Corsus dragged her roughly forward until she stood in front of the gathered witches. The crows perched nearby took flight, circling above her. Corsus gave them a disapproving look before grabbing a dagger from one of the witches.

Gripping the handle with both hands, Corsus raised the dagger high, its point aimed directly at Vienny’s heart. Vienny lowered her gaze in resignation. So, this was how her relentless fate would finally end.

Let it end quickly, she wished.

But just then, blue flames erupted from Corsus’s body.

“Ahhh!”

In an instant, chaos broke out. The witches who had been holding Vienny’s arms tightly screamed and scattered in all directions, but the blue flames consumed them mercilessly.

“Help me!”

“Aaaah!”

The blue flames burned fiercely, defying the rain as they blazed with an almost surreal intensity. Startled, the crows took flight, scattering into the sky. Amidst the chaos—the screams and the stench of burning flesh—Vienny found herself entranced by the flickering flames, her gaze dazed and empty.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped her wrist, spinning her around.

“Finally caught you.”

The voice, though not loud, was fierce. Vienny stared blankly at the large hand gripping her wrist, then slowly lifted her gaze. Raindrops clung to his tightly pressed lips, dripping from his chin. As she looked further, she met his intense blue eyes, their depths mirroring the flames.

“…Inquisitor.”

He clenched his lips tightly, as if holding back something. Though he had seized her wrist, he neither pulled her closer nor pushed her away. As she looked up at him, she noticed his jaw tighten, his teeth gritted, as if time had stopped for him alone amidst the chaos.

Vienny blinked slowly, and then, almost as if releasing a thought that had been circling in her mind, she spoke.

“Like you said, I should’ve just died.”

His blue eyes wavered slightly, his cold expression briefly twisting. Seeing this, Vienny opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, lowering her gaze to hide her weary face. McClart’s cold voice reached her ears.

“I’ll destroy everything.”

Vienny’s eyes moved to the wrist he held. She could feel the faint trembling of the large man’s fingers.

“I’ll burn everything you wish… so…”

The slight trembling was soon buried under the pressure of his grip, which tightened even further.

“Just give yourself to me.”

Did her throat tighten at his words – a promise not to kill her after all – stirring a painful wave of emotion? Vienny swallowed dryly a few times before she managed a strained response.

“You said even God would reject my body.”

“God may indeed do so.”

His voice was calm and steady, unwavering.

“So I will take you and keep you in my sight for the rest of my life.”

Vienny slowly raised her head, meeting McClart’s gaze. On his face—cold and terrifyingly indifferent—she saw a flash of despair, one she recognized all too well.

“Even if I must hold onto you and fall into hell when I die.”

Unable to bear looking at him any longer, Vienny quickly lowered her head. Though she couldn’t fully grasp why, his words felt heartbreakingly gentle. Gentle enough to make her want to cry.

***

She wasn’t sure exactly when she had lost consciousness. Feverish and weak, she would occasionally glimpse a large shadow passing by through her blurred vision.

But she couldn’t focus on it for long before slipping back into deep sleep. At times, even breathing felt difficult, and whenever that happened, someone would pat her back and pour water into her mouth.

So when she finally managed to open her eyes again, it seemed that quite some time had passed. It wasn’t hard to realize this because she recognized the place where she had woken up.

This was Rave Castle.

“…Ah.”

She struggled to sit up, the thick blanket that had covered her sliding down to her thighs. The cool air that followed felt more refreshing than cold. The room was warm enough that such a heavy blanket wasn’t even necessary.

Sitting on the bed, she pressed her throbbing forehead with her hands, then slowly pulled her legs out from under the blanket. She paused, noticing her legs were wrapped in bandages.

Now that she thought about it, her arms and shoulders felt strange too. Bandages and padding covered several places on her body. Staring blankly at her treated limbs, she cautiously lowered one foot to the floor. A sharp pain shot through her right ankle.

After all the pain she had endured, this was manageable for Vienny.

She moved slowly around the large bed toward the door and caught a glimpse of the outside. Her steps naturally halted when she saw a familiar figure sitting by the fireplace, legs propped up on a stool. McClart, sensing her presence, looked up, his cool eyes briefly scanning her face before shifting to her legs, steady on the floor.

Setting aside the documents he had been reading, he stood up, and before she could react, he crossed the room toward her. In one swift motion, McClart scooped up her stiffened body and carried her back to the bed she had just risen from. Placing her down, he pulled the blanket over her and turned away without hesitation.

Frozen with a blank expression from the sudden turn of events, Vienny hurriedly opened her mouth to speak.

“Inquisitor…!”

She was just about to lower her legs to the floor again when McClart noticed and spoke in a cold tone.

“Do I need to tie you down to keep you in place?”

Startled by his words, Vienny flinched and quietly drew her legs back onto the bed. Satisfied, McClart clicked his tongue and turned away once more.

Even as he filled a glass with water and returned to her side, Vienny couldn’t gather her scattered thoughts. When he handed her the glass, she accepted it, still struggling to make sense of what was happening.

Under McClart’s gaze, Vienny hesitantly took a sip of the water, realizing only then just how thirsty she was. The water was pleasantly lukewarm, perfect for drinking.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pardon?”

She responded reflexively, noting the slight raise of his eyebrows.

“I’m fine.”

“Fine?”

“…I-I feel well.”

McClart’s expression hardened even more. Had he expected her to say she was in pain instead?

She thought saying she felt fine was appropriate, considering he had treated her with the intention of helping her recover.

“Do you call this feeling ‘fine’?”

His irritated question left Vienny at a loss for words. Of course, her condition couldn’t truly be called “good,” nor could she honestly say she was “fine.” Despite the treatment, her wounds hadn’t fully healed, and every movement brought pain—her ankle especially.

She hadn’t expected McClart to want her to describe each pain in detail, leaving her confused and unsure of what to say. Unable to come up with an answer, Vienny quietly lowered her eyes and from above she heard him sigh in irritation.

“You will only have soup for now. Nothing too strong or spicy. I’ll bring it later and you should eat it all.

“Yes.”

“I’ve arranged for powdered medicine. Mix it with water and drink it.”

“Yes.”

“The wounds will be treated twice a day, morning and evening, in my presence.”

“W-Will the person who treated me before be coming again?”

Vienny asked hesitantly.

McClart’s sharp retort followed immediately.

“Why would that matter?”

“Do you want him to come back?”

“N-no, it’s not that…”

“I have assigned a new doctor.”

McClart silenced Vienny’s stammering and narrowed his eyes at her with a challenging intensity, as if daring her to express some regret. Vienny stifled a sigh, bit her lip and waited, but he seemed to have no intention of addressing the very thing she was most curious about.

Unable to hold back any longer, Vienny finally lifted her eyes.

“Will you give me to the High Priest now? Or take my blood for experiments?”

McClart didn’t answer right away. He just looked down at her, his gaze so unwavering that it made her want to look away. But she gripped the water glass with both hands, meeting his gaze resolutely.

Then, without warning, he reached out and cupped her cheek. Vienny’s face, delicate and slender, fit easily in his hand, his palm covering nearly half of it.