Naturally, Vienny found herself confined to her room. McClart had ordered that no one enter, and her meals were delivered through a small side door.

Whenever McClart left the castle on witch hunts, he was gone for at least half a month. This time, it meant she’d be locked in a windowless room for over two weeks. She had grown weary of this unsettling peace that she could never fully adjust to.

But unexpectedly, the door opened sooner than she’d anticipated.

“If someone’s locked in a windowless room all day, they usually go mad. But you seem fine, don’t you?”

Ironically, the one who had come to prevent her from losing her mind was Pepin. She could easily guess his intentions, especially with McClart away, yet she found herself welcoming even his dark presence in her current state of despair.

“Still, it’s better than the underground cell, right?”

In the cell, whenever she felt she might go insane, a different guard would enter to torture her. Since they couldn’t kill her, they made sure the torture was just bearable—painful enough to hurt but not enough to end her life. That constant preoccupation with pain had, ironically, kept her from going completely mad.

Instead, this forced rest was gradually eroding her sanity. Without the reprieve of passing out from pain, she lay awake, dreading when she might be pulled into her nightmares again.

“My treatment is done.”

“Ah, today I’m here for a different purpose.”

Locked alone in silence, Vienny had nearly come to prefer the distraction of pain, but that didn’t mean she welcomed Pepin’s intentions. Her face went pale as she took a step back, putting distance between them. Seeing her reaction, Pepin laughed.

“Don’t try to seduce me like that. I’m not a priest, I’ve never taken a vow of chastity.”

He shook his head, stepping forward with a casual stride.

“So, there’s no reason to hold back.”

“As a follower of Chiron…!”

“Oh, spending a few days around the Inquisitor has changed you, has it?”

Pepin muttered irritably, leaning closer. Though it looked like he might touch her, instead, he unlocked her shackles.

Vienny stared blankly at her now unshackled ankle, then looked up at Pepin in confusion. Without offering much explanation, he attached a chain to her handcuffs and held the other end.

“Well, it’s my job to keep you healthy until the high priest comes. And staying cooped up in this little room all day isn’t good for your health. Since your legs are mostly healed, a walk shouldn’t be a problem.

Vienny could hardly believe her ears. It seemed impossible.

“A walk?”

A peaceful, almost romantic word like that—it couldn’t possibly apply to her.

“It won’t be possible once the Inquisitor returns, but for now it is. You’d like to feel the sun on your face, even if only for a day, wouldn’t you? Besides, I don’t believe that nonsense about witches burning up in sunlight.”

“Why…?”

“I already told you. Until the High Priest arrives, it’s my job to manage you. Who else in this castle would take an interest in you if not me?”

Pepin smiled warmly, the kind of smile that might have made her think he was a decent person—if it weren’t for everything she had endured here.

But despite his gentle words, his intentions were hardly concealed. He was still coveting her scar-marked body—whether as a physician or as a man, she couldn’t tell.

Why should he suppress his desire and seduce her when they were alone? Vienny couldn’t understand, and she had no idea.

Yet, as always, she had no choice.

* * *

On their way out, a few priests saw her and gasped in shock. Each time, Pepin would step in, murmuring something in a low voice, and most reluctantly accepted it.

Occasionally, when words alone weren’t enough, Pepin would take a piece of paper from his pocket and show it to them. Whoever saw it would immediately cease any interference. Even Priest Brown, who usually treated her like a pest, stopped his sharp criticisms the moment he saw the paper Pepin held up.

“Since you’re out here for a change, why not take a look around?”

Vienny had kept her eyes down the entire time, trying to avoid accidental eye contact with anyone. Only then did she realize how far they had come. She found herself in a place where there was no one around, somewhere safe enough to lift her head.

When she finally looked up, the first thing she saw was a large, dark hole. Vienny did not immediately understand the scene before her. It was a barren field, and in the centre was a huge black hole, filled with dark, piled shapes.

No, those weren’t just dark shapes.

“Better than the mountains, right? Out here in this open field, there’s nowhere to hide, so if you try to run, you’ll be easy to spot.”

“This place…”

Why was she standing in a mass grave?

Vienny stared blankly at the dark corpses before her. Were they all witches? Were they from the places she had reported? Ever since she’d begun providing information, there had been no need to take witches alive; they were executed on the spot as soon as they were found. So, were these witches captured before she’d arrived?

As she stood there, frozen in shock, Pepin approached her from behind, holding a bucket filled with an unknown liquid. Just as Vienny sensed his presence and began to turn, the cold contents were dumped over her head.

“Damn, it splashed.”

Pepin muttered, tossing the bucket aside. He briskly patted down his coat with a handkerchief, then wiped his shoes.

“…What is this?”

Her hair, now soaked, clung to her face and body. The only thin layer of clothing she wore was soaked, clinging tightly to her and outlining her skin beneath. She wiped the liquid from her face until she could see clearly and looked at Pepin with a twisted expression. He looked at her with a satisfied gaze, lingering especially on her lower half, where her stained, mottled thighs were faintly visible.

“What did you pour on me?”

“Nothing special. I’ve finally been given permission to check something.”

Pepin released the chain he’d been holding. Though she was still cuffed, Vienny was free to run anywhere she pleased now.

She looked down at the chain on the ground, confused, then realized Pepin was stepping back, widening the distance between them. He moved leisurely, his gaze fixed on her.

Suddenly, Vienny noticed an unusual odour from the liquid he had poured over her. It was faint, hard to place, but it caused a feeling of nausea and disgust.

“Hungry beasts often come to places where bodies are left,” he said. “But we don’t have time to wait for them, do we? So we have to lure them in.”

Droplets ran down her wet lips, gathering at her chin before dripping to the ground.

Pepin loosened his collar slightly, his eyes narrowing as he took in her drenched, dazed form. Glancing across the field, he smiled at her.

“Cold blood won’t do. Freshly spilled blood seems to be the answer, doesn’t it?”

The color drained completely from Vienny’s already pale face. She opened her mouth slightly, unable to speak, and slowly turned her head. Was she imagining it? She thought she heard the distant growl of a beast. Fear crept into her red eyes, her breathing grew ragged, and her heart began to pound.

What terrified her wasn’t the potential beasts lurking nearby—it was the chilling sensation that crept down her spine, making her whole body tremble.

Blood.

Pepin might know something about her blood. At the very least, he suspected something, and now he was trying to confirm it with this experiment.

How had he figured it out? Confusion spread across Vienny’s face.

Then she remembered: Pepin had said he had received “permission.”

Her mind raced back to McClart’s suspicion that she could control the beasts. She remembered the terrified confessions she’d made under the pressure of his holy power. At the time, she’d thought he’d backed down surprisingly easily, but now she realised he’d confirmed it in another way – by entrusting her to Pepin.

As this all too likely reality dawned on her, an intense wave of fear washed over her. Feeding her blood to beasts, seeing the world through their eyes, feeling the flow of nature through them – all the terrible powers associated with the Great Witch – she would be forced to prove herself once again here.

The realization struck her deeply, filling her with barely contained fear.

“Don’t worry,” Pepin said calmly. “Nothing particularly vicious should appear, and even if it does, you won’t die. I’ve ordered the archers to shoot any beasts before they can kill you.”

But her fear wasn’t of the beasts. No creature in this world would harm her—they only desired her.

“All this trouble is for your sake, to make your life smoother than it is now.”

But it was clear his intentions were not for her benefit.

Pepin continued to chatter, trying to calm Vienny, who remained frozen in fear, but his words barely registered. What did he hope to achieve by verifying the power of her blood?

Did McClart intend to use this power? He was a man who despised her, so it was probably just to confirm that she was dangerous. If her abilities were labelled as sorcery, she would be burned at the stake, just like those she had reported. All her efforts to provide information would have been in vain. Or perhaps she should be grateful that her role as an informant had bought her half a year of life.