#45
“When did you discover that old woman was a witch?”
At Benato’s question, the middle-aged woman slightly raised her head, casting a resentful gaze toward the old woman bound to the chair. Then, her voice rising with venom, she cried out loudly,
“Several years ago, my daughter, who had always been healthy, suddenly fell ill after returning from gathering herbs in the mountains. We were too poor to visit a physician, so, as people advised, I sought out that old woman. She gave me a pile of dried herbs, claiming they would cure my daughter’s illness, and I emptied my pockets to pay her. Believing I could save my daughter, I returned to the village and brewed the herbs as the old woman instructed, but…”
The middle-aged woman broke into sobs at that point.
“Instead of improving, my daughter’s condition worsened, and she eventually died. It was all because of the herbs that old woman gave me. That witch clearly gave me poison, not medicine. Or perhaps she cursed the herbs!”
Benato posed similar questions to the remaining few.
Their answers largely echoed the previous two. Some claimed they had merely encountered the old woman a few times, while others admitted to selling her food for money. Still others asserted that after consuming herbs obtained from her, their illness improved, but they suffered from severe nightmares.
The middle-aged woman’s daughter had likely died from a serious illness that herbs alone couldn’t remedy, and the person who had nightmares probably just had nightmares. Yet, Benato seemed determined to brand the old woman a witch practicing dark arts based on such flimsy evidence.
Once the people had withdrawn, Benato stood before the old woman once more.
“You wicked witch! How dare you practice vile sorcery and harm people in lands blessed by the Holy God? The demonic energy that surged from deep within the mountains last night was also your doing, was it not?”
“I am innocent, milord. Demonic energy? I have never heard of such a thing.”
“If not you, then who else could summon such demonic energy? Confess quickly before I break every bone in your body and carve out your flesh. Did you summon a demon and make a pact, or did you summon a monster?”
“Oh dear, milord, if I possessed such formidable power, why would I have been brought here so meekly? I would have summoned demons or monsters and fled, wouldn’t I?”
There was no fault in the old woman’s logic. If she truly possessed the ability to summon demons or monsters, she would have either swept away all the Holy Knights or, at the very least, stalled for time and escaped, rather than being dragged here. Yet, her words fell on deaf ears with Benato.
“Even if you were to summon demons or monsters before the Holy Knights blessed by God, would you stand a chance? You must have tried to preserve your life by pretending to be an ordinary citizen, knowing full well you would lose, but such a ploy is futile.”
Having said that, Benato called one of the Holy Knights waiting in the corner of the warehouse. The Holy Knight held something in their hand, which was, at a glance, one of the most terrifying torture instruments imaginable.
“Today, I will uncover your true identity.”
Benato took the torture instrument from the Holy Knight’s hand.
Jeha saw Hereis step forward, his lips parting as if to speak. Jeha gripped his wrist, stopping him. Then, taking a step forward himself, he called out to Benato.
“Lord Benato.”
Benato turned his head to look at Jeha, his eyes already gleaming with a murderous intent, eager to see blood. Jeha knew that Benato genuinely intended to break the old woman’s bones and carve out her flesh to extract a confession of witchcraft.
There was nothing the Marquis Belgarga could do in this situation. Intervening to protect her would only lead to being labeled a heretic or falling under suspicion.
“I have no desire to witness bloodshed on such a fine day. I shall take my leave now.”
“As you wish, Your Excellency. It is not a sight fit for you to behold.”
Benato nodded. Jeha took Hereis by the wrist.
“Your Eminence, you should also leave. This is Lord Benato’s affair; he will resolve it appropriately.”
Jeha advised Hereis, but the archbishop did not look keen to depart. Jeha could tell he was agonizing over how to intervene. Jeha tightened his grip on Hereis’s wrist. Only then did Hereis give a slight nod.
“…Understood.”
Holding Hereis’s wrist, Jeha glanced at the trembling old woman once before leaving the warehouse without a backward glance. He signaled Paimon and Zephyr, who were waiting outside. Paimon and Zephyr began to follow Jeha.
The four of them ascended to a room on the third floor and closed the door.
“Have a seat, Hereis.”
Jeha immediately offered Hereis a place to sit. Watching him settle down, Jeha also took a seat opposite him.
Faintly, the old woman’s screams seemed to drift up to them. The eyes of Paimon and Zephyr, sensitive to the scent of blood, subtly changed. That was how they knew: Benato had truly begun to torture the old woman.
Perhaps hearing the old woman’s screams, Hereis couldn’t bear it and tried to leap up from his seat. Jeha caught his hand, restraining him.
“Lord Jeha.”
Hereis’s voice trembled slightly as he called Jeha’s name.
“What would you do if you went down there?”
“If I, as an archbishop, declared her not a witch, Benato would not be able to refute it.”
“And after saving one person like that? What will you do when another is seized?”
“……”
“Will you chase after every Inquisitor dispatched across the continent, saving people? Will you make enemies of all the Inquisitors that way?”
A faint sense of powerlessness flickered in Hereis’s clear blue eyes.
Jeha knew that Hereis was already planning to abolish the Inquisition system. Such an abrupt intervention was certainly not part of his scheme.
“…I understand that this is not a problem that can be solved that way. To abolish the Inquisition system, the unjust deaths of countless commoners must accumulate until their resentment finally explodes. Only when the time is ripe, and many priests gathered from within the temple raise their voices, will the matter finally succeed.”
“If you know that, then why try to intervene?”
“……”
A pained expression crossed Hereis’s eyes.
Seeing this, Jeha realized that even if Hereis had abandoned God and the temple, he had not abandoned humanity.
“Zephyr.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Go up into the mountains now and release a significant amount of demonic energy in the cave where Kkamangi was. Catch a suitable monster and throw it in there.”
“Understood.”
Zephyr bowed and immediately vanished from the room.
Through it all, the old woman’s agonizing screams continued to faintly echo. Jeha firmly grasped Hereis’s hand, comforting him.
“Just wait a little longer. Just a little. Then Benato will have tortured an innocent person, and his reputation will plummet, preventing him from acting so recklessly.”
At Jeha’s words, Hereis nodded slightly, though the pained expression on his face remained.
Jeha was relieved that Hereis still harbored compassion for the common people. If he had come to resent God and the temple so much that he hated and cursed all beings on this land… Jeha would no longer have been able to like him.
The moment of patience did not last long. From somewhere deep within the mountain range, a potent surge of demonic energy was felt. Hereis, too, seemed to sense it, turning his head in the direction of the mountains. A moment later, a crashing sound simultaneously echoed from downstairs.
Jeha rose from his seat and looked out the window. A flustered Benato, along with priests and Holy Knights, all rushed outside and stared toward the mountains. Jeha frowned, seeing the blood dripping from the torture instrument Benato still held. To so mercilessly torture an old, powerless woman… Were the Inquisitors’ hearts truly forged from steel?
“Everyone, enter the mountains! Hurry!”
Benato shouted.
Jeha watched as the Holy Knights retrieved their horses from the stable, hastily mounted them, and Benato likewise climbed onto his own horse. The group departed urgently toward the mountains without bothering to look around. In an instant, only a few priests, covered in the dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves, remained standing forlornly in front of the inn.
Hereis, who had approached and observed the scene, turned around. This time, instead of restraining him, Jeha followed behind him.
The warehouse door stood wide open. There were no Holy Knights or priests guarding it. With genuine demonic energy now pouring forth, there was no time to pay attention to a mere old woman who exuded not an iota of such power.
By then, the old woman was covered in blood.
Seeing her state, Jeha felt a pang of guilt. Logically, this was the correct course of action. However, with Jeha’s abilities, he could have easily saved her before she was harmed. He had simply chosen not to.
Hereis seemed to feel the same. A heavy weight of guilt emanated from his back as he approached the old woman.