Light streamed in through the arched window. Filtered through the stained glass, it cast a complex array of colours over his silver hair.

The man, hands folded and head bowed, prayed without moving. Only when the candles in the four corners were half lit did he raise his head. He stared at the brilliant stained glass for a moment before standing.

The frayed hem of his black cloak dragged softly across the floor, picking up dust. The fluttering edge of the cloak bore an embroidered white wing, now speckled with dirt.

He put on the black helm that had been laid aside, picked up the greatsword leaning against the entrance and stepped out of the room. As he stepped outside, he saw the sky beyond the corridor, faintly lit by the early light of dawn.

Soon the sky would brighten further and the monastery day would begin. The monks were busy – perhaps some of them were already awake.

He stood in silence, staring at the sky, until he felt a presence and turned his head. A monk, apparently on his way to the morning prayers, had frozen at the sight of him.

The monk stood there, his face pale, his lips trembling as he spoke in a fearful, quivering voice.

“Heretic…”

The monk’s voice echoed loudly through the otherwise silent corridor.

Startled by his own words, the monk dropped the holy book he was holding. It hit the ground with a loud clatter and rolled across the floor. McClart glanced briefly at the fallen book, tilting his head slightly as he let out a low laugh.

“S-sinner, do not defile this holy hall with your filthy footsteps! The a-angry God will surely judge you…”

The monk’s words faltered, his voice trailing off. The corridor, dimly lit by the first light of dawn, was suddenly as bright as midday.

Blue flames ignited and engulfed the greatsword, blazing brightly as if to dispel the surrounding darkness.

“If I am a heretic, why does the Divine still grant me His power?”

His voice was bored and indifferent. He narrowed the blue eyes that were visible through his helm.

“To cling to power that must be relinquished – that is what goes against His will.”

The overwhelming fear was too much for the monk, who wet himself as he fell backwards in fear.

MCClart seemed uninterested in the monk, his gaze fixed instead on his surroundings. The beautifully carved pillars praised the majesty of God and those who served him.

“So this is God’s judgement.”

From a distance, the sound of shouts reached him – the shouts of those the High Priest had branded heretics, unbelievers. Yet they claimed to hold the true faith and called themselves judges.

The trembling monk scrambled to his feet and ran in the opposite direction.

The monk’s shouts of an intruder caused lights to come on throughout the monastery.

McClarts walked slowly, dragging the tip of his greatsword across the ground, leaving a faint blue flame in his path.

“As servants of the Divine, shouldn’t you rejoice in your martyrdom?”

The pillars, intricately carved to honour and worship God, began to crack. In an instant, the monastery – the closest to Chiron’s capital, and the one most treasured by the High Priest – was engulfed in flames.

Today marks exactly six months since the outbreak of faction warfare in Chiron.

* * *

“I told you to chop some wood first, didn’t I? Honestly!”

Moiria stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the almost empty woodpile in frustration. She looked around with a grim expression on her face, but the person she was looking for was nowhere to be found.

She sighed heavily as Corinne, who had gone to the market early this morning, came through the front door and greeted her cheerfully.

“Oh, you’re up already?”

“Ah, Corinne. You went to the market so early? You’re so busy.”

“Zane insisted on something special,” Corinne replied.

It seemed that instead of chopping wood, Zane had been lounging around in the kitchen, making demands about the menu. Moiria asked sharply,

“Did he make a fuss about the menu again?”

“I asked him.”

Corinne replied with a smile.

Moiria sighed at Corinne’s cheerful expression.

“Corinne, you shouldn’t give in to someone like that so easily.”

“Oh, it’s not like that.”

Corinne protested.

Not like that, of course – but here she was, blushing just from talking about him. Moiria resisted the urge to feel sorry for her, instead watching her with an exasperated look.

Corinne had been running the household for almost six months now, and her one-sided crush seemed to have lasted quite a while. The problem was that the man in question didn’t seem to show the slightest interest in Corinne.

Still, Moiria had no intention of giving her a lecture. When it came to relationships between men and women, Moiria was beyond tired – she was utterly exhausted and disgusted. She had promised herself countless times, even prayed, that she would never get involved again.

“I’ll have breakfast ready soon. Shall I call Mr Hans for you?” Corinne offered.

“All right. Ask him to bring up the rest of the firewood.”

Leaving the rest to Corinne, Moiria sighed deeply several times as she made her way into the mansion. It was pointless now to ask what had gone wrong. If she hadn’t been blinded by money, she would never have set foot in Rave Castle. She should have turned away the moment she heard the word “Inquisitor”, without ever seeing him. Instead, she ended up getting involved because she chose to carry out her duties diligently.

“It’s been half a year, I should at least be asking for a raise.”

She was already well paid – so much so that money wasn’t really an issue. However, her current responsibilities went far beyond what was originally agreed. It felt like the whole contract needed to be rewritten.

With that in mind, Moiria decided she might as well draw up a new contract and pushed open the familiar door.

The first thing that greeted her was the large window, perfectly positioned to let the bright morning sunlight fill every corner of the room. The clean, light curtains were still drawn, just as she had left them before going out.

The fire in the hearth was still burning strongly enough that Moiria decided to leave it as it was, though she added some extra wood and stirred the flames with the poker, groaning as she straightened her back.

She gathered the pile of medical supplies from one side of the room, ready to move towards the bed as usual, but her steps faltered and she stopped, unable to move any further. The relaxed expression on her face turned cold.

Behind the semi-transparent canopy curtain, a dark silhouette was visible.

Moiria stared dazedly at the shadow, then took a step forward as if in rapture. The shadow remained motionless until she reached the bed.

Swallowing dryly, Moiria raised a trembling hand and carefully lifted the curtain.

There she saw the familiar face – black hair falling loosely, skin so pale it was almost translucent, lips pressed into a tight line. The only difference was that now those crimson eyes were finally open, staring back at her.

“…Great Witch?”

At Moiria’s soft call, the head turned, ever so slowly. The eyes, which had been staring blankly into the air, moved to focus directly on Moiria. Unconsciously, Moiria’s mouth dropped open.

It was the moment the Great Witch finally awoke after more than six months of slumber.

* * *

Hans nudged Corinne’s side as if to say, “Let’s get out of here,” but Corinne pretended not to notice and kept looking at the bed.

It was the first time since she had started working at the Manor that Corinne had seen the woman on the bed open her eyes. It was a miraculous moment – one she wanted to witness, even if it meant feigning ignorance of Hans’ signals.

Every time she had seen the woman lying in bed, Corinne had thought her beautiful, but now that she was awake, it was enough to leave Corinne speechless, her jaw almost dropping.

Corinne watched in awe, for the woman was so stunning that she felt not even a hint of envy, only awe.

“Well, did you understand everything I said?”

Moiria sat beside the bed, talking mostly to herself.

First she pinched her own arm several times, as if she could not believe what she was seeing. Then, as if afraid that the woman might lose consciousness again, she continued talking nervously.

The woman occasionally responded by blinking or nodding her head slightly in acknowledgement. Having been unconscious for six months, it was no wonder she was struggling to move or speak.

Moiria, clearly agitated, rattled off various instructions and precautions. Her speech was so rapid that even Corinne struggled to keep up, a clear sign of how exhilarated Moiria was at the moment.

The woman’s face, however, remained blank. Even when Moiria mentioned that she had been asleep for half a year, the woman’s only reaction was to blink a few times.

It was impossible to tell if she was simply unable to express her emotions due to her physical condition, or if she was genuinely indifferent to the situation.

“Either way, it’s such a relief. Finally, you…”

“En!”

Someone interrupted Moiria loudly and burst into the room. It was Zane, the man Corinne secretly had a crush on.

Entering the room, Zane froze when he saw the woman sitting up, her back leaning against the headboard. Then, suddenly, he moved quickly to the side of the bed.

“En, are you awake? Do you recognise me? Do you know who I am?”

“Quiet! She has just woken up, if you shout like that you might shock her!”

“Your voice is louder, you know?”

“I told you to call me ‘Doctor’!”

The bickering between Moiria and Zane was a common occurrence in the household. But given the circumstances, this wasn’t the time or place for it. Corinne, who had been watching the scene in silence, cleared her throat and stepped between them.

“You’re both being a bit too loud.”

They both fell silent at once. Zane, with an embarrassed look on his face, shifted his weight and slowly moved closer to the side of the bed.

“En.”