The sight of crows always brought an inescapable sense of foreboding. McClart couldn’t quite tell if it was their dark, menacing reputation or the memory of the flock he had seen the day he lost Vienny.

With a cold eye, McClart watched a few crows circle overhead before reluctantly mounting his horse. His subordinates had already completed their preparations for departure. He took one last look at the building, even though he knew he wouldn’t see Vienny there – he’d told her repeatedly to stay in her room. Still, a pang of disappointment remained.

Perhaps it would be wise to move her to another room after the demons were captured and he returned – one with large windows, plenty of sunlight and a clear view from outside.

* * *

As promised, McClart hadn’t locked the door. Even though he’d left the castle, he’d left her door unlocked. A few days ago, that might have been a small comfort to Vienny

She stared at the closed door for a moment, then turned away with a distant expression. The blankets on the bed still showed the creases from where McClart had sat, but the air around them had long since grown cold.

Again today, he had gone straight to the prayer room as soon as he woke. Vienny had never shown much interest in his prayers, but now she was genuinely curious. What forgiveness was he seeking from the gods? Had he confessed that a devoted servant of the divine was seeking a descendant of the evil Great Witch and asked for their understanding?

…And if so, had his prayers even reached the gods?

* * *

The demons attacked and retreated with calculated precision. Despite his original plan to wrap things up quickly and return home, McClart found himself being drawn further and further away from Rave Castle. The demons had a history of ambushing camps, and their cunning had evidently not faded with time.

McClart surveyed the field, now ablaze with blue flames, then urged his horse forward, irritated. They must have thought they could escape again, as they had once before. But they were sorely mistaken. Had he known they would become such a nuisance, he would have shown them no mercy.

There had been a reason to spare them then. But now McClart felt no such need. It would be better to rid them all this time.

The horse’s hooves thundered against the ground, accompanied by the fierce barking of the dogs. The sky was remarkably clear today, and as they rode on not a single bird could be seen, though they usually appeared in abundance.

* * *

When a commotion broke out in the underground prison, even the soldiers guarding the gate were called in to help. The timing was unfortunate – many soldiers had already been sent out to hunt demons, leaving the castle severely understaffed.

Amid the commotion, Vienny took the opportunity to slip out of her room without a soldier following her. She put on the cloak she often wore for walks and quickly left the building. Chaos reigned outside, but through the panicked crowd she spotted a lone figure standing, covered in blood.

The appearance of a demon emerging from the heart of the castle sent shockwaves through everyone, plunging the entire scene into chaos. Amidst the confusion, Vienny slowly approached Gentian.

Gentian, who had just snapped a soldier’s neck, stopped when he saw Vienny. He was about to call her name when…

“Stop! Don’t!”

A voice shouted from behind Vienny, and Gentian’s expression twisted with malice once more. He made a move to strike the newcomer, but Vienny quickly stepped in and blocked him.

Shaking but determined, Vienny shook her head at Moiria as she approached. Moiria froze.

“If you try to escape like that, the Inquisitor might really come after you to kill you.”

Moiria didn’t know that Vienny had long begged him to end her life. In a way, Vienny was grateful for Moiria’s ignorance.

“Yes, I think so.”

Vienny gave her a quick smile and turned to leave, but stopped. After a brief moment of reflection, she clutched the front of her cloak tightly and said, “The bloodline of the Great Witch will end here.”

The words were meant for Moiria, but they also served as a promise to herself.

“So please, tell him to disregard this insignificant power of mine, to consider it meaningless… please, just let him know.”

The words were addressed to Moiria, but they also served as a vow Vienny made to herself.

“So please, tell him to ignore this insignificant power of mine, to pretend it doesn’t exist… please, just let him know.”

Moiria opened her mouth to reply, but Vienny turned away before she could speak.

Just then more soldiers appeared, approaching them as if to intervene. But the moment they noticed the countless crows now filling the sky, they all froze. The mass of crows wasn’t just threatening, it was something beyond human understanding. It embodied a primal, terrifying force – a vast natural presence that struck fear into the hearts of the people of Rave Castle and paralysed them.

Vienny stared blankly at the crows she hadn’t summoned, then held out her hand to Gentian.

I should have died instead.

Back when I knew nothing, I should have died.

As if understanding her unspoken regret, the crows flapped their wings. Black feathers drifted through the air like ash, scattering in all directions.

* * *

When the lord of the castle returned, having purged all the demons, he was greeted by the smell of blood and countless black feathers scattered everywhere.

The survivors all rushed to testify to the monstrous power of the demon and the terrifying presence of the Great Witch, who had summoned thousands of crows.

The Inquisitor listened to their accounts with a blank face before heading to the highest, innermost corner of the building to inspect his private quarters.

The bed was neatly made, without a wrinkle, and nothing was out of place.

There was no sign of anyone else.

As if there had never been anything there. As if it had always been a room for him alone.

Leaving the room with a cold look on his face, the Inquisitor calmly began to assemble a pursuit force. The soldiers who had just returned had to line up again before they could even take their horses to the stables.

With an urgency that suggested he might leave the castle at any moment, he studied the map in front of him. It was then that Moiria, the Great Witch’s physician, cautiously approached to relay the words the Great Witch had left behind.

“She said she wouldn’t continue the bloodline, and she begged you to ignore this insignificant power of hers.”

Unlike Moiria, who didn’t understand the meaning of those words, the Inquisitor seemed to grasp it immediately.

He remained silent for a moment, then suddenly handed the reins he was holding to a soldier and turned on his heels.

The direction he took was towards the now ruined underground prison.

Though parts of it were damaged, it wasn’t difficult to get down. Inside the prison, the Inquisitor found a blood-soaked corpse. The body, horribly mutilated as if torn apart by a wild beast, belonged to Pepin, who had been staying at Rave Castle for the past few days.

The High Priest’s emblem was stained and discarded on the pool of blood that had poured from his body.

The Inquisitor showed no interest in the body, instead examining the broken iron cell. Scattered on the floor was a notebook, presumably Pepin’s, and various unknown objects – smashed, torn and thoroughly soaked.

The Inquisitor picked up the notebook from among the scattered objects. The waterlogged pages were so fragile that even opening them without tearing was a struggle.

The dense writing was blurred in places and scrawled so hastily in others that it was difficult to read. But the Inquisitor took his time, reading the contents carefully.

When he had almost reached the end of the notes, he tucked the notebook under his arm and left the underground prison.

The soldiers were still assembled, and the one holding the reins was waiting for his orders.

Moiria wondered if the Inquisitor had decided to call off the pursuit after hearing the Great Witch’s message. But with an air of inevitability, the Inquisitor took control once more. His expression, barely perceptibly distorted, seemed filled with a sense of desperation.

Without giving anyone a chance to fully understand his expression, the Inquisitor left the castle.

* * *

Outside the castle, Gentian finally allowed himself to relax as he rejoined his comrades, collapsing from exhaustion.

It wasn’t just the strain on himself; he’d also had to bring Vienny with him, making the effort twice as hard.

Vienny felt a bit sad that she hadn’t even had the chance to thank him. Gentian would probably sleep for a long time to regain his strength, and by the time he woke up, she would be gone.

“Great Witch,” one of the demons shouted.

The Demons felt a faint hostility towards Vienny, but they were also aware of Gentian’s feelings for her. They couldn’t simply ignore Gentian’s efforts to bring her along, nor could they overlook her past connection to Chiron’s Inquisitor, which only added to the complexity of their situation.

McClart had informed them of what Vienny had done while she was with him, especially during the time a year ago when she and Gentian had first fled together. It seemed likely that McClart’s intention was to break Vienny’s trust in the demons. And Vienny, for her part, had no desire to depend on them indefinitely.

“Just take me to the nearest waterside.”

The demons were reluctant to hurt Vienny directly because of Gentian, but they didn’t want to give too much away either. Gentian had trusted her easily, offering his hand to help her escape, but the other demons regarded her with much more suspicion. Even Vienny understood why – they had every reason to be cautious, given her repeated betrayals.

But if she left them now, she was sure she’d be recaptured in less than half a day.

“You don’t want me to get caught again, do you?”

She expressed her willingness to end it herself, and though the demons looked surprised, they didn’t try to stop her. In fact, they seemed somewhat relieved.