“Let him go.”

“What? But…”

The soldiers, who were about to argue, fell silent as they realised how violently the blue flames were moving.

They realised that McClart, who had returned stronger after a year, wouldn’t have lost control of the flames and let the demon escape by mistake.

Resisting the urge to grab the fleeing demon by the neck, McClart drew his greatsword from its sheath. The expression on his face, which had mocked the demon only moments before, was now emotionless.

“Set fire to the forest and drive them towards the river.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and turned, taking long strides forward. His indifferent voice echoed behind him as he walked away.

Vienny, who had smeared her own blood on the crows’ beaks and sent them flying in all directions, had not yet managed to leave the forest. Establishing a connection with the crows had drained her mental energy, and controlling them had left her utterly exhausted.

Having abandoned the idea of reuniting with Gentian, she concentrated on staying hidden and regaining her strength as quickly as possible. She slipped back into the farthest corner of the forest.

The place she chose to hide was an acacia grove, heavily saturated with the scent of flowers. The scent was so intense that she almost felt like she was drowning in it. The acacia trees were covered in sharp thorns, making it a place few would dare to go.

Vienny clenched and unclenched her hands a few times, her movements stiff from the dried blood. Cautiously, she leaned her back against the tree. Though she had managed to find a place to sit, even the slightest movement threatened to scratch her skin.

She drew her knees to her chest and rested her head, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She hadn’t had a day’s rest since leaving her hiding place and heading into the forest – she felt ready to collapse at any moment.

Her original destination had been a cave by the sea. But given the current situation, it was impossible to make it there in one go. She would have to take shelter in other places along the way, regaining her strength bit by bit.

But would she even make it that far? If McClart had followed Gentian, it meant he had already realised she was working with the demons.

McClart would never forgive her – the Great Witch – for not only betraying her own kind, but for daring to escape right under his nose and now selling information to demons.

If she were sure he would kill her, it might be better to let herself be captured. But Vienny was the Great Witch, and she still carried the power of the Great Witch within her.

It had only been a year – there was no way that her interest in the Great Witch’s power had faded now. If she were captured, she might finally be dragged before the High Priest this time.

Having escaped once before, she doubted they would show any leniency. She would be imprisoned for life, possibly in a laboratory, reduced to their test subject.

Vienny took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. No matter how much she thought about it, the only conclusion she could come to was to run.

And if she could not escape, she would rather take her own life. Or maybe there was no need to wait so long.

Suddenly, Vienny wondered – did she really have to keep running just to hold on to her life?

Most of Tempe had already burned, and the witches were barely holding on. The few that remained would be found and slowly ‘purified’, and the witch bloodline would vanish from this land without a trace.

Tempe, once lush and green with mountains and vegetation, would become a dead land, not a blade of grass growing. Even without Vienny trying, that was the only future that lay ahead.

Hadn’t she done her part? Her mother had died long ago, and Vienny was the only one left to carry on the Great Witch’s bloodline.

She was the only one left, wasn’t she?

Vienny suddenly recalled the child McClart had captured a year ago. If McClart had captured the baby without hesitation, then it must have been her mother’s child. But since the power of the Great Witch was with Vienny, it was certain that the child hadn’t inherited that power.

McClart would have realised this eventually. When he discovered that the child had no power, did he kill the child?

“If he didn’t kill her…”

If the child was still alive and Vienny had died and the power had somehow been passed on to the child…

The sudden thought sent a shiver down her spine. Vienny, shocked by her own imagination, shook her head violently.

It was an absurd idea. A witch without the power of the Great Witch was, in her eyes, just another target to be purified.

Of course, they must have killed the child. This man, who always unleashed his blue flames without mercy, had no reason to keep the child alive for a year. Vienny bit her lip hard.

Still, she wanted to be sure. How could she find out if the child was alive or dead?

There was practically nothing she could do on her own. Just trying to escape without being caught was hard enough.

It was a truly horrible situation – not being able to choose death freely because of that one sliver of possibility. Vienny wrapped her arms around her knees.

With her head buried, the scent of blood from her hands filled her nostrils without restraint.

“Stop reeking of blood.”

Suddenly the voice of a cold man echoed in her mind. The man who had always criticised the scent of her blood.

Had he, who had reappeared after a year, still found the smell of her blood repulsive?

Vienny remembered how sensitive he had been to the smell of her blood, and so she sent crows all over the area. She was afraid that if she didn’t, he would follow the lingering trace of that scent.

She had no way of knowing how effective it would be, but she hoped that if nothing else, the strong scent of her blood would make him recoil, if only for a moment.

But did he really hate the smell of her blood? If he disliked it so much, why did he keep licking the blood from her split lips?

Even in his cold tone, there had always been a subtle glow of passion. Because of that, she could instinctively sense that he was aroused by her at those moments.

If it was only lust, then why was his behaviour always so… Her train of thought came to an abrupt halt.

Vienny closed her eyes tightly. There was no point in remembering these things now. The phantom warmth of his touch lingered long on her bitten lips.

She had fallen asleep uncomfortably curled up, but awoke with a start at the sound of a crow. The faint smell of smoke mixed with the air drew her attention.

The sky was dark, but not completely. She looked around with bleary eyes, then froze in panic as she saw the sky glow a deep crimson in the distance.

The rising haze was smoke. The forest was on fire. Judging by the distance, she knew she had to flee quickly.

She scrambled to gather her belongings and unfolded a crumpled map. She had chosen the acacia grove, not only because it was a good place to hide, but also because it was on the way to another hiding place she had hastily added.

Having roughly determined the direction, she began to move quickly. Occasionally a few crows would fly overhead, dropping black feathers.

Most of the crows she had commanded earlier had already left her influence, but there were always a few that took longer to come to their senses.

The crows circling overhead were still there for the same reason – they hadn’t left Vienny’s side yet. They were the ones who had woken her earlier.

Vienny was walking steadily, though not fast. At her current pace, she should be able to make it out of the forest before the flames reached her. She pressed her lips together, steeling her resolve, when suddenly a voice called out from behind her.

“En!”

Vienny turned sharply towards the source of the sound, startled. The familiar voice brought her more fear than relief.

The person recognised her and called again, louder this time.

The resounding call startled Vienny and she instinctively stepped back. Her hand reached out without thinking and landed on a tree trunk covered in sharp thorns, causing her to jerk back in pain. The sting made her palm throb.

“Ouch!”

“En, are you okay?”

Startled by her scream, Gentian approached quickly. As he got closer, she could smell the lingering scent of blood that hadn’t been washed off, mixed with the salty smell of his still damp clothes.

He immediately tried to examine her hand, but Vienny repeatedly insisted it was fine and quickly turned her attention to her surroundings. She couldn’t sense any other presence nearby.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while. I thought you’d send the crows again…”

There was a hint of disappointment in his last words. Vienny deliberately avoided his gaze.

“…The situation didn’t allow it.”

She couldn’t admit that she had deliberately ignored him for fear that McClart would follow.

Vienny held her hand awkwardly, thorns embedded in it, and looked anxiously over Gentian’s shoulder. Seeing her wary eyes, Gentian seemed to realise what she was afraid of and spoke first.

“I came across this crazy zealot. I couldn’t kill him, but I took care of some of his soldiers, so he’s probably angry. Looks like he set the forest on fire. But don’t worry, I wasn’t followed.

His words seemed to be true. Vienny finally relaxed a little and nodded.

“Okay.”

“But, you know, there’s something I…”

Gentian hesitated as if to say something, then closed his mouth. Vienny looked at him curiously, confused by his uncertain expression.

But it seemed that Gentian had no intention of talking right now, as he moved to support her.

“Let’s get out of here first. The fire is spreading fast.”