The Enraged Executioner

“Lord Oston, a few of us would like to go out and look around. Would that be acceptable?”

“Of course, that’s perfectly fine. Just remember to gather some information while you’re at it.”

“Understood, Captain! We’ll be back!”

As the majority of his male team members, chatting and laughing, exited the inn, Oston glanced up at a room on the second floor.

A cryptic glint flashed in his eyes.

As night fell, a dark silhouette appeared before Christine’s room.

A soft knock echoed.

“Who is it?”

A weary voice called out from within the room.

“I’m a staff member from the inn, here to deliver your dinner.”

“Oh, I’ll be right there.”

After a shuffle of footsteps, the wooden door creaked open.

However, Christine saw no sign of the promised dinner.

Instead, she was met with a face twisted into a lecherous grin.

“It’s you! Oston!”

A resounding bang!

“Don’t be so unkind, Miss Christine.”

Oston forcefully pushed the door open, his boot preventing it from closing.

His immense strength made Christine, who appeared even more petite before him, stumble back into the room.

“What do you want?!”

Watching Oston slowly and deliberately close the door, Christine felt a surge of panic welling up inside her.

Though her tone was resolute, her slightly panicked expression only fueled the wicked fire in Oston’s eyes.

“Haha, don’t be so anxious. I won’t hurt you.”

Moonlight cascaded over the golden-haired beauty, accentuating the porcelain fairness of her skin.

As Oston watched the young woman, who held her neck high like a white swan, feigning composure, his breathing grew ragged without him realizing it.

“Especially since you are such a beautiful lady.”

A sharp slap!

“Stay away from me!”

With a crisp crack, Christine slapped away the hand reaching for her.

Clutching her collar, she swiftly retreated to the window, her gaze fixed nervously on Oston, who remained rooted to the spot.

Oston sniffed the hand she had just struck away, a look of intoxicated pleasure on his face.

“Ah, truly the scent of an innocent maiden, enough to incite sin…”

“Knight Oston! As a member of the Templar Knights, have you forgotten your vows? To do such a thing would be…”

“…a grave sin, punishable by immolation.”

“I know all of that, but what good does it do for my ambition? Absolutely none!”

The silver-armored knight bared his teeth, a faint, eerie glow flickering in his eyes.

“Honestly, I was quite startled when I learned that you, a candidate for Saintess, would condescend to secretly investigate me.”

“I had already prepared myself to be expelled from the Knights by His Holiness the Pope. But to my surprise, you, a mere ‘flower vase’ candidate Saintess who could only secure your position by currying favor with the Pope, actually rejected his subtle hints?!”

“Haha, it was truly wonderful! Do you know how I felt when I heard you were cast out of the Central Papacy? That feeling of surviving a catastrophe…”

“To ‘repay’ you for almost getting me kicked out of the Knights, before I was dispatched on this mission, I wasted no time bribing the Grey Bishop of the diocese to which your church belongs.”

“Fifty Proania gold coins. That is the worth of your life.”

Oston’s face blossomed into a smile brimming with malice and desire.

“Naughty, naughty. Did I say you could leave, former candidate Saintess?”

With the swift movements of a seasoned warrior, Oston effortlessly seized Christine’s arm as she attempted to flee.

“You… what do you want to do!”

Oston subdued the struggling swan, and with a look of triumph, he whispered softly into her ear:

“Why, to do some things that I desire, of course.”

Christine felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss.

“Don’t rush. The night is still young, and we have plenty of time…”

Pinning the struggling blonde girl down, Oston began to move towards the bed.

‘Is my life truly ending like this?’

‘Such bitter regret…’

Two clear streams of tears traced paths down her fair cheeks.

“Captain! We’ve found a clue! Please come down and take a look!”

Just as the girl’s top was about to be torn from her body, a voice from downstairs brought the aggressor’s actions to an abrupt halt.

“Hmph, you’re lucky this time. We’ll continue when I return!”

His heavy breathing persisted for a moment, then reluctantly receded from the girl’s neck.

Amidst the clatter and shuffle of armor, the sinister man, who had nearly succeeded, departed.

Christine lowered her head, hugged her knees, and huddled in the corner of the bed, trembling uncontrollably.

For a moment, only suppressed sobs echoed in the dark room.

“Ah, my dear team members, what have you found?”

Though seething with extreme displeasure internally, Oston managed to put on an enthusiastic smile.

“Captain, we seem to have found signs that this village worships an evil god!”

A knight with a small mustache replied respectfully.

“What?! Are you saying the villagers here are heretics!”

Upon hearing this news, a tumultuous flame ignited in Oston’s heart.

It was a flame of yearning for slaughter, for wealth, and for fame!

As a member of the Papal Templars, Oston believed the best way to gain both fame and fortune was to massacre ‘heretics.’

Especially in a remote mountain village like this, once condemned as heretics, wiping them out entirely would provoke no backlash.

‘If they are heretics, the wealth left behind would perfectly compensate for the losses incurred from my half-month journey…’ the silver-armored knight mused.

“We’re not entirely certain, but we definitely found some traces of worship.”

“Near the most renowned old hunter’s house in this village, we discovered a small altar. It appears to be dedicated to a woman dressed in black.”

“Then what are you waiting for! Take me there at once!”

“Yes, Captain!”

A contingent of armored knights marched out of the inn with great fanfare.

Their rampant bloodlust left the villagers in a state of uneasy apprehension.

“Pardon the intrusion! We are Knights of the Templar Order. Do you know of the legend of the ‘Shepherdess of Wolves’?”

Though framed as a question, the inherent arrogance in their tone carried immense pressure.

The old hunter, seated in his reclining chair, watched the formidable knights arrayed before him.

Despite the anxiety churning within him, he maintained a placid expression.

“What brings you esteemed knights here? This old man knows nothing of a ‘Shepherdess of Wolves.’ You must have the wrong person.”

“Then how do you explain the altar in the woods behind your house! And you claim to have no connection to that witch? I see you as nothing less than her servant! Heretic!”

“Haha, that’s just a small hobby of mine. Perhaps you knights are simply unaccustomed to such things!”

“Heretic! You—!”

“Furthermore, this village lies within the Kingdom of Proania. On lands that support the coexistence of both pagans and Templars, aren’t you knights being a bit too forceful?”

“What does that matter? Even if your village is within the Kingdom of Proania, it’s merely on the border. Remember, you share a border with the Principality of Polo, which is fully supported by the Temple! Not to mention, this is a village deep in the mountains.”

“Tell us the witch’s whereabouts, or we will condemn every villager as a heretic and purge them. Choose!”

Oston, his eyes glowing faintly, waved away his subordinates.

With a cold, ruthless expression, he stepped forward to stand before the old hunter.

After a long silence, the old hunter let out a heavy sigh.

“Even if I tell you where that lady is, you will still condemn our village as heretical, won’t you…?”

“In that case, this old man has nothing to say… Do whatever you please with me!”

Tapping his pipe, the old hunter, still reclining in his chair, cast a sidelong glance at the knight’s imperious face.

“Then…”

The knight raised his right hand high, causing his subordinates behind him to breathe heavily, their eyes glinting with bloodlust.

“Heretic Inquisition…”

“Grandpa! What are you doing?!”

A clear, youthful female voice rang out from behind, momentarily halting the rising bloodthirsty aura.

“Fanny! Run!”

The old hunter, who had been so composed moments before, cried out in sudden panic as he saw the silver-haired, braided figure approaching him!

“Oh my! Well, isn’t this fortunate… Seize her!”

Two armored soldiers, fierce as wolves and tigers, immediately apprehended the girl dressed in linen and brought her before their captain.

The girl’s slightly immature yet delicate face, a mix of anger and panic, instantly reignited the lust Oston had just suppressed.

“Haha! Who would have thought that after finding the witch’s servant, we’d also capture a witch’s apprentice! Bring her inside! I shall interrogate her!”

“What are you doing to my granddaughter!”

Clang!

An iron-shod boot mercilessly stomped on the old man’s frail body, causing him to convulse in pain and curl into a ball.

“Grandpa!”

“Keep an eye on this old fool!”

“Yes, Captain!”

“You will face retribution!!!”

The old man, coughing blood as he lay on the ground watching his granddaughter forcibly dragged into the house, roared with a hoarse fury.

“Haha, heretic! I’ve heard those words countless times. But as a devout follower of the Lord, calamity will never befall me!”

“Is that so…”

A faint voice echoed, imbued with chilling menace and seething rage.

Its icy tone was utterly frigid, making everyone present feel as though they had been plunged into an abyss of ice.

“Templar Knights… you have truly enraged me!”