Before the Second Villainess Burns
The Knox Magic Tower stood at the western edge of the imperial capital.
On the surface, it looked like nothing more than a research institution. A circular tower built of white stone, meticulously maintained gardens, and paths lined with magic lamps at regular intervals. But having read the original novel, I knew better.
Beneath this tower lay an underground prison.
And inside it, the second villainess was about to burn.
“You don’t look well.”
Evelyn said.
We were riding in the same carriage. During the entire journey from the duke’s annex to the magic tower, Evelyn had barely spoken. Yet it wasn’t a comfortable silence. Instead of talking, she had been observing me the whole time.
When I pretended to read documents, she watched my fingertips. When I looked out the window, she studied my face.
Eventually, I closed the recording slate.
“The preliminary witchification judgment formula was originally scheduled for three days from now.”
“Originally?”
“According to the records, yes.”
It was dangerous.
The words according to the original story had nearly slipped out, only to be suppressed by the chill on my left wrist. I corrected myself.
“The preliminary schedule for the Condemnation Records Office listed the preliminary judgment in three days and the disposition review in six. However, this morning, Seraphina Knox’s name appeared on the Knox Magic Tower’s underground detainee list.”
“Seraphina Knox.”
Evelyn rolled the name slowly on her tongue.
“Is she another person who believes you shouldn’t die?”
“No one should die, if they’re a person.”
“A splendid answer from a saintess candidate.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“A little.”
Evelyn was honest.
I held back a sigh.
“Seraphina Knox is not a witch.”
“How do you know that?”
I was blocked again.
I couldn’t avoid this question from the start. Evelyn was sharp. She had seen me falter the moment I heard the name Seraphina. She had also noticed that I was already convinced of her innocence even though we had never met.
“There is a high possibility that the witchification judgment has been manipulated.”
“Possibility.”
“Yes.”
“Was it also just a possibility with me?”
“The records…”
“Were strange, weren’t they?”
Evelyn finished my sentence for me.
The carriage came to a stop.
Through the window, the main gate of the Knox Magic Tower came into view. Two mages in black robes blocked our path, and behind them stood priests from the sect. The very fact that the White Crown Sect had entered the grounds of the magic tower was already suspicious.
Evelyn placed her gloved hand over the back of mine.
“Lucia.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re jumping in again because the records are strange, remember one thing before you do.”
“What is it?”
“You saved my neck this morning.”
Her hand pressed lightly against the back of mine.
“And my innocence is not over yet.”
“I know.”
“Then why does someone who knows that make such a face when closing a review document that hasn’t even finished yet?”
I closed my mouth. Her gaze felt less like jealousy and more like verification.
“I told you, a person is going to die. Before the review is complete.”
“I see.”
Evelyn withdrew her hand.
“That’s why I followed you.”
She stepped out of the carriage first.
The priest standing before the magic tower’s main gate stiffened when he saw us.
“Lady Rochard is currently under execution postponement. External movement is—”
“She is accompanied by her supervising guardian.”
Evelyn glanced in my direction.
I quickly took out my recorder’s badge.
“I am Lucia Bennett, saintess candidate. I have come to verify the detainee list at the Knox Magic Tower in relation to the Condemnation Records re-examination procedure.”
“The Knox Magic Tower is currently under the management of the White Crown Sect.”
“The detainee is showing signs of progressing witchification. Black discoloration has been confirmed on the circuits of her wrist, and she has inscribed a forbidden formula on the cell wall.”
“Which is precisely why a recorder from the sect has come to verify it.”
At my words, the priest’s lips tightened.
I heard Evelyn let out a very small laugh.
I shouldn’t enjoy this.
I told myself.
This is not the time.
The stairs leading down to the underground prison were cold. The walls were densely engraved with magic suppression patterns. The deeper we went, the damper the air became, carrying a mixture of chemical and burnt odors.
Seraphina Knox was in the innermost cell.
Even in the darkness, her silver-purple hair gave off a faint glow. Her loose mage robe was torn, and purple circuit marks like spilled ink spread across the tips of her right hand and wrist. There was no sign of black discoloration. Beyond the iron bars, she sat with her back against the wall.
She was smiling.
Behind her, a faint circular formula remained on the wall. The lines drawn over the magic suppression patterns resembled the Stigma Judgment Formula, while the outer circle bore a striking similarity to the structure of the Witch Judgment Formula.
Yet she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t begging.
She was laughing.
“You’ve come.”
She said.
Her voice was low and relaxed. She sounded less like someone locked in a prison and more like someone who had been waiting for a guest.
“Saintess Candidate-nim.”
I stopped in my tracks.
Evelyn’s gaze shifted back and forth between me and Seraphina.
Seraphina tilted her head.
“I thought you came to watch me burn.”
Her purple eyes flicked ever so briefly toward my left wrist.
“But that’s not it, is it?”
My heart sank.
Can she see it?
The condemnation annotations were supposed to be visible only to Lucia. That was how it worked in the original story. But Seraphina was the character who had gone the furthest in stigma research. Even if she hadn’t seen the text itself, she might have sensed the reaction.
I lifted the recording slate, pretending to be calm.
“Seraphina Knox. Before the witchification judgment procedure, there are a few things I need to confirm.”
“Confirm.”
Seraphina’s smile widened slightly.
“Alright. What do you want to confirm?”
“The research notes that served as the basis for the witchification judgment formula, along with the stigma reaction records.”
“You probably won’t be allowed to see those.”
“Why not?”
“Because they contain proof that I’m not a witch.”
Evelyn took a step forward.
“Then why didn’t you say that sooner?”
Seraphina’s eyes turned toward Evelyn.
“That’s not something the young lady of the duchy who just stepped down from the execution platform should be saying.”
She leaned against the iron bars and lifted her right wrist, showing the purple circuits.
“Every time I said I wasn’t one, it was recorded as blasphemy. When I presented evidence, it became dissemination of forbidden knowledge. So now, I only say it to people who seem like they might actually believe me.”
The air instantly grew sharp.
I instinctively stepped between them.
“Both of you…”
“Both?”
Seraphina laughed.
“Saintess Candidate-nim, you’re already treating me as the second one.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Inside the iron bars, Seraphina slowly rose to her feet. Her movements were sluggish because of the magic suppression cuffs, but her gaze was completely unbound.
“You’re not afraid of me.”
She said.
“Strange. The sect’s priests can’t even look me in the eye properly.”
I couldn’t find the right words to answer.
Seraphina approached the iron bars. The tips of her right hand slipped slightly between them. The purple circuits at her fingertips trembled faintly.
“Saintess Candidate-nim.”
“Yes.”
“Do you truly believe I’m not a witch?”
Answering would be dangerous.
But staying silent would be even more dangerous.
I looked at her.
In the original story, Seraphina had laughed until the very moment she burned to death. In front of those who called her a witch, she had tried to explain the truth of the stigmas until her voice gave out. The fact that her research had been correct was only revealed much later.
Far too late.
“I came here to check the records.”
I said.
“And if the records are wrong, I will correct them.”
Seraphina stared at me for a long time.
Then she smiled, very slowly.
“Good.”
Her fingertips stopped just short of my wrist.
They didn’t touch.
Yet the distance right before contact felt strangely vivid.
“Then I’ve become curious too.”
“About what?”
“Why you possess such a cold stigma.”
From behind my shoulder, Evelyn spoke in a low voice.
“Move your hand.”
Seraphina did not withdraw her hand.
Instead, her eyes curved with clear amusement.
“You have quite a scary guardian, Saintess Candidate-nim.”
Only then did I realize it.
I had come to rescue the second villainess.
Yet the first villainess was already standing right behind me.
As if to make sure I couldn’t run away.
The moment we left the cell, I opened the recording slate.
My hand moved first. Seraphina’s words, the circuits at her fingertips, the formula on the cell wall, the priest’s false report. I couldn’t afford to miss even one detail. If I had learned anything from Evelyn’s case, it was that what killed people wasn’t just blades, but blank spaces.
Seraphina Knox. Purple magic circuits on the fingertips and wrist of her right hand. No black discoloration observed.
Formula resembling a hybrid of the Stigma Judgment Formula and Witch Judgment Formula inscribed on the cell wall.
The guiding priest claimed black discoloration, but on-site verification shows inconsistency.
The sound of the pen scratching against paper echoed faintly down the underground corridor.
Evelyn waited until I finished writing everything. It was unexpected. I had thought she would urge me to leave immediately. But she simply stood beside me in silence. She didn’t seem to care that the priests were glaring at us, nor that the damp underground air was soaking into our clothes.
“Finished?”
“Yes.”
“Then write one more thing.”
“What?”
“The guiding priest’s name.”
I paused for a moment.
She was right.
I hadn’t asked the priest for his name.
Evelyn turned toward the guiding priest.
“Name.”
The priest’s face hardened.
“Why would you need…”
“Since there is now a possibility of a false report regarding the detainee’s condition, the recorder must leave your name.”
She wielded my authority so naturally it was almost frightening.
I belatedly raised my recorder’s badge.
“Please state your full name.”
The priest ground his teeth.
“Ordan. I am Ordan, a low-ranking priest of the White Crown Sect.”
I wrote it down.
Priest Ordan. Claimed black discoloration on the detainee’s circuits. Inconsistent with on-site verification.
The moment his name was recorded, Ordan’s expression changed. Until just now, he had seen me as nothing more than a young saintess candidate. Now it was different. His face showed that he had realized he had become an inconvenient witness.
Evelyn spoke softly.
“Good. You’ve learned one thing now.”
“What is that?”
“When you write down their name, people lie a little less easily.”
She was right.
I held the recording slate to my chest.
As we climbed the underground stairs, Seraphina’s voice kept echoing in my mind.
Why you possess such a cold stigma.
I didn’t know exactly what she had felt. She probably hadn’t seen the condemnation annotations. But every time my left wrist reacted, Seraphina had sensed the change. Just like the genius mage from the latter half of the original story. No, even faster than in the original. Just as my intervention had accelerated events, she too was reaching the truth sooner than she had in the novel.
Was that a good thing?
Or a more dangerous one?
“Thinking about that woman again.”
Evelyn’s voice came from beside me.
“It’s not so much thinking as analysis.”
“Right. Analysis.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Because when you look at my case, you look at the records, but when you look at that woman, you seem to be recalling her expression.”
I faltered.
“That’s not true.”
“Then that’s a relief.”
She continued walking forward.
Some time later, halfway up the stairs, Evelyn spoke again.
“Lucia. Saving people is good, but don’t let everyone grab your hand.”
“I haven’t let anyone grab it.”
“Just now, between the bars, it almost touched.”
“It was for research purposes.”
“You haven’t even started the research yet?”
I had nothing to say.
I quickened my steps for no reason. Evelyn followed easily.
When we emerged from the tower, the sun was already setting. Unlike the damp air underground, the outside air was cold. I took a deep breath. Only then did I realize I had been breathing shallowly the entire time inside the cell.
Before getting into the carriage, I looked up at the top of the magic tower.
Inside that white tower would be Seraphina’s laboratory. Her notes, experimental records, the link between stigmas and the witchification judgment formula. And probably the evidence the sect wanted to destroy.
“I will come again.”
I said.
Evelyn stood beside me.
“I know.”
“You won’t stop me?”
“Even if I did, you’d still go.”
“...”
“So I’ll go with you instead.”
Her hand reached out and neatly adjusted the hem of my cloak. It was such a trivial gesture. Yet because of it, I was a beat late in answering.
“It’s dangerous.”
“Exactly.”
Evelyn said as she opened the carriage door.
“It would be even more dangerous if you went alone.”
The moment I climbed into the carriage, the stigma on my left wrist grew cold again. Seraphina’s sentence was still vivid.
Burning at the stake after witchification judgment.
D-DAY 6
I pressed down my sleeve.
This time, without a word, Evelyn placed a handkerchief over my wrist.
The handkerchief was warm.
So warm that I had nowhere left to run.