The paths they traveled led through areas already reduced to ashes.

Vienny sighed as she looked out at the charred remains of houses, now nothing but skeletal ruins. Inside the transport carriage, the ride was beyond terrible—she had rolled around countless times, eventually resorting to clinging to the iron bars for support.

Thankfully, there were no other items inside the carriage; otherwise, she would have ended up with countless injuries from colliding with them while being thrown around. And, no doubt, McClart would scold her coldly for reeking of blood once again. Vienny gripped the rough bars tightly, struggling to steady herself as her body threatened to fall.

Her empty stomach churned, bile rising in her throat. If she had eaten, she would have soiled the carriage, so perhaps it was a blessing that her stomach was empty. She leaned forward, seeking relief from the faint breeze that came through the small window.

She still couldn’t understand why she had been brought along on this journey. The only advantage of joining the witch hunt was that she wasn’t left behind with the High Priest. Beyond that, everything else was unbearable.

To breathe in the fresh air and avoid being thrown around inside the carriage, she had to cling to the bars. But holding onto the bars also meant being forced to look at the landscape outside.

If she closed her eyes to avoid seeing it, the faint smell of smoke drifting in the air would reach her nose. Given how much time had passed, the fires should have died out long ago, yet the scent lingered. Or maybe it was just her imagination.

“Great Witch!”

“What did you see? Hurry and tell us!”

“Another sacrifice!”

The smell of burning naturally brought back images of rising flames and the cries of people in despair. At the end of her memory always lingered the scene of the day McClart had captured her—the day Vienny had betrayed her own kind, the witches, for the first time in her life.

The first time had been hard, but after that it was easier. It hadn’t taken Vienny long to realise that.

“We’re stopping here!”

The carriage, which had seemed like it would sway endlessly, finally came to a halt. Even though it had stopped, the ringing in her head made everything feel unsteady, and Vienny leaned against the bars for a while, panting.

Having been imprisoned for months, she should have felt some joy at seeing the outside world again, at experiencing the fresh air and scenery. Yet her insides felt twisted, and her mood only grew darker.

To be honest, she dreaded even stepping out of the transport carriage. It was enough to mark the regions she had burned on a map with a few words and gestures. To tread over them herself, step by step, was far from a pleasant thought. The cries of the land, dying under her actions, echoed dully in her ears, heavy and oppressive.

“Get out.”

The carriage door swung open, and a cold, unfamiliar breeze swept in like a wave. Exhausted after just one day of this journey, Vienny staggered as she got to her feet. She had thought they would keep her locked in the transport carriage even at the campsite, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.

Unable to understand McClart’s reasoning, Vienny decided to simply go along with everything. When she thought about it, there was no reason for her to understand any of it. All she needed to do was be grateful she had narrowly avoided being left in the clutches of the High Priest.

Vienny was led straight to the largest tent. She didn’t have the energy to look around and before she knew it she had reached her destination, just following the pull of the chains.

Pushed forcibly forward, Vienny stumbled into the tent, where she was surrounded by surprisingly warm air – especially warm for something that had just been erected. The enclosed space helped her regain some composure.

Lifting her gaze weakly, she saw McClart standing there, his hands clasped behind his back with serious expression.

In front of him was what looked like a makeshift desk made of stacked crates, with a map spread out on top. Several small pins or markers were stuck into the map, and McClart, deep in thought, occasionally moved one or two of them.

Vienny, standing awkwardly, looked around the tent. With a cot and a small brazier present, it was clear that this was McClart’s personal tent.

She couldn’t understand why McClart insisted on keeping her nearby, even after coming out here, but instead of questioning it, Vienny searched for a spot to huddle into. There was a space in the corner that seemed almost prepared for her.

“Great Witch.”

Vienny flinched, abandoning her thoughts of curling up in the corner, and looked toward the source of the voice. At some point, McClart, who she thought had been focused on the map, was now looking at her. He looked at her with his usual cold expression, then suddenly frowned.

“Come here.”

It was clear he was calling her. Vienny hesitated briefly before moving toward McClart, and his gaze grew even harsher.

Worried, Vienny ran her tongue over her lips. The dry, scabbed texture of her cracked lips felt rough. She’d absentmindedly bitten them in the carriage earlier, but fortunately they weren’t bleeding now. If they were, his cold expression wouldn’t be due to the unpleasant smell of blood.

“Who touched you?”

His sudden question seemed to come out of nowhere, catching Vienny off guard. She blinked, not immediately grasping his meaning, but when she followed his gaze, her expression turned awkward.

Her exposed arms and legs were reddened, showing the beginnings of what would surely be bruises by tomorrow. McClart seemed to assume that the marks were from someone hitting her.

“No one touched me… I just kept rolling around inside the carriage…”

She heard a brief chuckle above her, and the intensity of his stare made her face burn, but Vienny kept her gaze fixed on the ground.

After a long silence, McClart finally looked away, and moments later she heard the rustling sound of him folding up the map.

“The information relies on magic, doesn’t it?”

“Pardon?”

“Can you use that power to locate someone specific?”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Vienny missed the moment to answer naturally. She quickly raised her head and blurted out her answer.

“T-The information I provided was only about the bases I knew where the witches were.”

But McClart didn’t seem to hear her words.

“Aine Valley became a base for the witches only two months ago.”

Vienny, on the verge of making another excuse, closed her mouth. How could he know such a specific detail? McClart’s behaviour had only recently begun to seem strange; before that he hadn’t shown any particular signs of suspicion.

Yet, listening to him now, it seemed as though he had been collecting information on Tempe independently of her reports for quite some time. Vienny’s face revealed the shock she could no longer conceal.

“Did you really think the soldiers would rely on your information forever?

It seemed McClart had no intention of waiting until every witch in Tempe was dead before burning Vienny at the stake.

Vienny’s lips parted slightly as she pulled her chin back, struggling to keep her expression composed. The sudden realization that her death, which once felt distant, was actually much closer than she’d thought, filled her with a strange, unsettling sensation.

“It doesn’t matter what kind of magic you possess. You’re going to die anyway. What matters is if it can help me find the one I seek.”

Her lips were so dry that she feared they might crack if she spoke. After moistening them a few times, Vienny cautiously asked.

“Who…?”

“Your mother.”

Despite her best efforts to remain composed, her face paled once more. Noticing her reaction, McClart repeated his words in an indifferent tone.

“The one who gave birth to you.”

Each heavy blink brought back fragments of memories she had tried so hard to forget. Dark, writhing shadows swiftly took shape.

A cramped room and a woman with black hair slowly losing her mind. The air, forever tainted with the smell of blood, and the shapeless, crushed lumps of flesh that haunted her memory – all appeared in rapid succession.

She could also hear the occasional scream and bursts of maniacal laughter. The footsteps of countless men who had visited her room, and the other witches who had pushed those men forward.

Just recalling it all made her stomach turn.

“If we’re planning to burn all the witches’ bases anyway, she’ll die in the chaos. Do you really need to find her and kill her specifically?”

Thankfully, her voice remained steady.

“Weren’t you the one who asked if we were going to purify every last drop of the Great Witch’s bloodline?”

Yes, Vienny had been the one to say those words, and without a doubt, her mother was included in them. Her mother had long since lost any chance of escaping her fate.

Still, when asked if it was really necessary to go out of their way to find and kill her, Vienny found it hard to agree. She had barely known her mother’s embrace, yet her mother remained the only other person in this land who shared her fate.

The fact that her mother bore the cursed blood of the Great Witch was enough to stir pity in Vienny.

“She… she lost her power…”

Vienny, barely aware of what she was saying, tried to defend her mother. In truth, she had lost track of McClart’s words at some point.

Was it from being bounced around in the carriage? Or was it because McClart had mentioned her mother, someone she hadn’t expected him to mention? No, she had sensed something was wrong ever since she was first ordered to join the witch hunt.