* * *

The runaway witches no longer stayed in one place, making Vienny even more cautious in choosing her next informant.

With the map McClart had given her spread out on the floor, Vienny stared at the names and markings for a long time. She gazed at it so blankly that it felt like she might end up memorizing the terrain, making it easy to picture the landscape of a region she had never even visited.

“Have you run out of places to report?”

“No.”

She was selective. The places deep in Tempe where leading soldiers to burn down an entire village would be justified were far away and would take considerable time to reach. Normally, timing wouldn’t have mattered to her, but things were different now.

The High Priest was still staying at the interrogation center, and he had taken a particular interest in Vienny. If McClart—the only one capable of keeping the High Priest’s attention at bay—were to leave for a witch hunt, she couldn’t imagine how the High Priest might act.

No matter how much she thought about it, there was no clear solution. McClart wanted her to provide a new informant immediately, and she had no other viable options. Reluctantly, she said the name she had been staring at for so long.

“Aine Valley.”

McClart’s gaze shifted to the spot she had pointed to. His casual confirmation of the location made it clear that he was not concerned by her hesitation.

Of course, just because he disagreed with the High Priest didn’t mean he supported Vienny’s position.

She slumped her shoulders as she stared at the map. Would the High Priest really try to take her to the capital while McClart was away?

As she imagined the worst-case scenario, Pepin arrived, delivering a message from the High Priest.

He seemed entirely unconcerned with Vienny’s presence, bluntly getting to the point. Since he made no effort to lower his voice, Vienny couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, despite not wanting to.

“The High Priest wishes for the agreed matter to be carried out as soon as possible.”

She didn’t know what it was about, but judging by the atmosphere, it was clear McClart wasn’t pleased. Vienny did her best to act as if she couldn’t hear them, curling up quietly in the corner, her gaze tracing aimless circles over the unfortunate map.

“Tell him we’ll be leaving within three days,” McClart said, glancing at the map before adding, “We’ll cover the Aine Valley and the Teike Plains in one go, and let him know we’ll be taking the Great Witch with us on this expedition.”

Vienny’s shoulders tensed immediately. At that moment, the name Teike Plains came into her view. It was the plains lying just beyond Aine Valley, after crossing a mountain. If they went just a bit further, they would reach the sea—a region that could truly be called the end of the land.

She didn’t understand why McClart had suddenly mentioned the Teike Plains, but that wasn’t what mattered. Vienny looked up at McClart in disbelief.

“Pardon me, Inquisitor, but who did you say you were taking?”

Pepin asked again, his stiff smile frozen. McClart turned to him and repeated clearly in his usual indifferent tone.

“The Great Witch.”

“That seems like an extremely dangerous decision.”

Taking the imprisoned Great Witch on an expedition? Even if she had defected and become compliant, there was still the risk that she would try to escape. But McClart spoke firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

“Tell him it’s for the agreed matter.”

“But…”

“This is not a matter for the doctor’s personal opinion. You talk too much.”

Pepin fell silent, as though he’d swallowed his words. His face was filled with confusion, clearly unable to comprehend McClart’s actions.

Vienny felt the same way. Though she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt their conversation, her mind was full of questions.

Taking the defected Great Witch along on a witch hunt? Was he planning to have her stoned by the other witches?

“Very well, I will relay that.”

For the time being, Pepin retreated. As McClart had pointed out, there was no point in speaking out now. McClart made most of the important decisions himself, and no one could influence those decisionsVienny, as bewildered as Pepin, watched him leave under McClart’s stern gaze, suppressing her own questions that threatened to rise to her throat. If even Pepin’s words had been dismissed so harshly, there was no way her questions would get through to McClart.

No way at all, yet she couldn’t help feeling confused. Was she really supposed to join a witch hunt?

“Why…”

Despite her attempts to stay silent, Vienny ended up muttering, her voice barely audible. She thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her, given how soft her words were, but McClart reacted immediately.

He looked down at Vienny, who sat in disbelief in front of the map, staring up at him. After a moment, he spoke with his usual indifferent expression.

“Because it’s necessary.”

Even after he left the room, the sound of the door locking and his fading footsteps echoing down the hallway, Vienny blinked, still dazed.

She began to wonder if perhaps she had misunderstood him, if McClart’s words had carried a different meaning than she had initially thought.

* * *

In the end, Vienny realized she hadn’t misheard. McClart truly meant what he had said. Within three days, all preparations were complete, and Vienny found herself standing in front of a closed transport carriage with iron bars.

As McClart had stated, their destinations were Aine Valley and Teike Plains. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was Pepin joining their uneasy group.

“I am the Great Witch’s personal physician, and she has made enemies among her own kind. Considering that this is a long and potentially dangerous journey, I must accompany her.”

Behind Pepin, who spoke those words, the High Priest stood smiling.

The High Priest had come to see them off, under the pretense of giving blessings to those carrying out the will of the gods. As a result, even the priests—who normally had no idea when the Inquisitor set off on an expedition—had all gathered to see them off.

McClart, who had intended to remain on his horse to receive the High Priest’s farewell, was forced to dismount in the face of the priests’ vehement objections. While he was exchanging the usual pleasantries with the High Priest, the latter suddenly pushed Pepin forward, who had been hiding behind him.

Smiling, he insisted that it would be a disaster if the Great Witch, who had just begun her repentance, collapsed during the forced march.

McClart, cynically muttering that it wouldn’t be a disaster if the Great Witch collapsed by the side of the road, allowed Pepin to join them. And so this strange group was formed.

And so, with an unusually grand send-off, McClart set out for another witch hunt—one of countless others. Vienny, too, was packed into the transport carriage like a piece of luggage.

Through the bars, she watched the High Priest’s smiling, pale face fade into the distance.