It was clear that this order was a direct response to Pepin’s visit to Rave Castle. Vienny nodded without hesitation.

“Of course.”

“If you need anything, let me know.”

“Nothing.”

Vienny’s flat reply made McClart frown.

“If you can’t think of anything, think of something.”

With every button undone, down to the cuffs, McClart approached the bed. He gently ran one hand through Vienny’s hair before gripping the headboard with the other.

When he leaned in for a kiss, the force of his body was overwhelming, making it impossible for her to resist. He deftly pushed her back onto the bed, pulling away just long enough to add,

“It doesn’t matter what it is.”

This time, when he seemed genuinely ready to leave the room, Vienny lay back and looked up at him. Suddenly she found her voice.

“Then the lock…”

“What?”

“Please don’t lock the door for ten days.”

As she avoided his gaze, fidgeting nervously with the blanket, Vienny felt the weight of McClart’s gaze on her. He watched her for a moment before replying in an indifferent tone.

“Sure.”

He asked nothing more. Even after McClart left the room, Vienny remained buried under the blankets for a long time.

She was reluctant to get up and leave the warmth that surrounded her. She buried her head deeper in the blanket, her dark hair spilling untidily over the fabric.

* * *

“Weren’t the demons being careful?”

“They seemed to have dropped their guard, thinking we were quiet.”

Now of all times.

McClart barely suppressed a curse, pressing his temples together as he struggled to control his rising anger. His subordinate continued.

“Dr Pepin has asked to extend his private meetings with the demons.”

“If he doesn’t want to be stuck in the underground prison all day, he should just shut up.”

“…The doctor has the emblem of the High Priest, so everyone hesitates to treat him carelessly.”

The subordinate spoke with an uncomfortable expression, glancing cautiously at McClart. His mood was already pretty bad, and adding more comments now would only aggravate the situation, like adding fuel to the fire.

But what could be done? While McClart could easily dismiss Pepin, others couldn’t.

“And…”

“Is there more?”

“The demon asked to see the Great Witch. He said he would cooperate with the Doctor if that happened…”

The subordinate hesitated, stepping back under the sudden intensity of McClart’s glare.

McClart regarded him with an unreadable gaze, his voice as cold as ice.

“So?”

“He said he would at least like to see her face, if only for a moment, to ensure his cooperation.”

McClart laughed nervously and looked away, dismissing the request as not worth considering.

To divert his attention, he picked up a pen. Just then, the subordinate added, speaking cautiously.

“If we can get the demon to cooperate, we could cut the time in half.”

The tip of the pen that was about to touch the paper stopped. In just five days, with a little patience, they would leave immediately. A tempting offer indeed.

McClart put the pen down, lost in thought. He remembered Vienny’s compliant response to his order to stay in her room for ten days.

When he’d asked her what she needed, she’d asked him not to lock the door. Surely she didn’t want to be locked up.

Thinking back, Vienny had no real hobbies and probably nothing to do all day. It would be painfully boring for her. While the idea of meeting a demon was unpleasant, she had been quite content lately, showing no significant dissatisfaction with her life.

Most importantly, her request that the door not be locked implied that she wouldn’t try to escape even if it was left open.

It was a subtle hint that she had no intention of running away. So perhaps it would be all right.

Showing her face, however briefly, to cut their time in half seemed reasonable.

* * *

As she descended into the underground prison, she found that nothing had changed.

The damp, sticky air clung to her body and the cold chilled her thoughts. An unidentified foul smell assaulted her senses and the sound of footsteps echoed sharply in the silence.

Vienny licked her lips and took a deep breath.

She had expected Gentian to be alive, but she hadn’t expected to meet him under such circumstances. The thought that he might want to see her made her uneasy.

Would he insult her? Would he accuse her of treason? She imagined various scenarios, none of them positive.

Chewing nervously at her lip, she found herself in a familiar place.

“Demon, as you requested, I have brought the Great Witch.”

Gentian’s head, which had been drooping, suddenly lifted. Bound and slumped, he began to stir, the rich scent of blood wafting up with each movement.

The marks of torture were all over his body, and Vienny’s complexion grew pale.

“Is it done now?”

McClart asked coldly, his expression one of clear dissatisfaction as he watched the scene unfold.

Pepin, eager to help, urged Gentian to speak, but the demon just stared at Vienny, his lips pressed tightly together.

Unable to look away from his intense gaze, Vienny suddenly found her voice.

“Is it all right if we talk, just the two of us?”

McClart furrowed his brow. Pepin’s eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected request and he glanced between her and McClart.

Vienny turned back to McClart, her tone steady as she repeated.

“I would like to say goodbye comfortably.”

He looked at Gentian with a frustrated expression and clicked his tongue in irritation. Then he made a subtle gesture towards Pepin.

Pepin glanced back and forth between Vienny and McClart, his expression one of disbelief, before being forced to turn away. As McClart slowly turned his back as well, he shot a blunt warning at Gentian.

“If you try anything stupid, I’ll burn you alive.”

With Gentian bound and unable to use his magic, and with solid bars separating them, there was no physical threat to consider.

McClart glared menacingly at Gentian before shifting his gaze to Vienny. Then, without hesitation, he turned and walked away.

When the guards had left the area, leaving only Pepin and McClart behind, Gentian finally spoke, slowly parting his lips.

“You look well.”

“Yes.”

“I thought it was all nonsense, but you really are with that zealot…”

Gentian’s words trailed off as he broke into a coughing fit, a splash of blood landing on the floor.

Watching his face, Vienny suddenly asked.

“Why haven’t you contacted your comrades?”

Gentian met her gaze with tired eyes, and something in his gaze made her throat tighten.

“You can do it, can’t you?”

“I did.”

Gentian swallowed hard, his throat obviously hurting. He grimaced more as he coughed again, struggling to speak.

“You didn’t seem to tell them how demons can contact each other. They’re completely unaware… cough… I’ve been holding on.”

It seemed that Gentian had some inkling of Vienny’s betrayal. Given the circumstances, it was only natural for him to feel that way.

Staring at her with a mixture of resentment and scrutiny, Gentian spoke quickly.

“Listen carefully. Do you know what this zealot wants from you?”

A deep feeling of disgust washed over his face.

“Children.”

Vienny couldn’t believe her ears.

“What?”

“The bloodline of the Great Witch. He’s after your child. It wants to inherit your powers. Since the last newborn he tried to keep alive died, he’s trying to get another one out of you. That mad doctor even thinks he’ll get his turn, because a child can’t be born all at once.”

The weight of his words sank into her, and the implications hit her like a cold wave.

Her mind went completely blank.

“You’re doing all this knowing what he wants?”

Vienny couldn’t bring herself to answer. But from the pale and rigid expression on her face, Gentian seemed to understand her answer well enough.

Carelessly spitting out the blood in his mouth, he continued with great difficulty.

“My comrades will soon cause a commotion outside, and this zealot will leave the castle empty. I’ll pretend to cooperate with the doctor and get him to remove these restraints.”

Vienny struggled to understand Gentian’s words. She opened her mouth to speak, but it felt as if something was stuck in her throat, preventing any sound from coming out.

“I asked to see you so I could tell you this.”

Gentian paused for a moment, clearly struggling to continue. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

Suddenly sensing a presence, Gentian leaned forward, lowering his voice urgently to a whisper: “Let’s go.”

Vienny remained silent, still unable to answer. Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor, and soon the figures of two men appeared.

McClart approached with surprising speed, as if he hadn’t intended to linger. When he reached Vienny’s side and saw her pale, frightened face, his expression immediately hardened.

“What did he say?”

Gentian managed to force a twisted smile in response to McClart’s fierce question.

“What do you think I said to a traitor who turned her back to save herself?”

“Inquisitor! You can’t kill him!”

Alarmed by the tension in the air, Pepin rushed between McClart and Gentian, raising his hands in a desperate attempt to calm the situation.

Holding up the emblem of the High Priest, he pleaded with McClart to calm down.

Gritting his teeth, McClart struggled to control his anger, then pulled Vienny close and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Led by him, Vienny stumbled as they left the prison, still shaken.

As they walked, McClart kept asking her what had been said, but when he saw that her expression remained unchanged, he decided to refrain from further questions for the moment.

She didn’t look back for the entirety of their escape from the underground prison. Her mind was filled with Gentian’s words, leaving no room for other thoughts.

The bloodline of the Great Witch. A child to inherit her powers.

At last, McClart’s seemingly inexplicable kindness made sense to her. Even the constant lust he had shown her felt clearer now.

She couldn’t bring herself to deny Gentian’s words, even in vain, as the truth became more and more undeniable.

No matter how accustomed she had become to comfort, the clarity of the situation left no room for ignorance. The motivation was all too clear. Chiron had long desired the blood of the Great Witch.

He had said he would go to hell with her. Ah, he was indeed a steadfast instrument of the Divine, willing to face the consequences.

A shiver ran down her spine and she lowered her head instinctively.

Vienny bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to turn her eyes red. The stifling warmth of her peace shattered into fragments.

In the midst of it all, the tenderness of the man’s voice that reached her ears was heartbreaking in its sadness.