The Inquisitor's Hammer Falls
The deaths of the brother and sister were quickly and quietly forgotten in the village. It was the village chief's decision, born from the fear that if the witch ever learned their story, it would invite her wrath. Though the witch had never made the kind of wicked or cruel demands one heard about in rumors or fairy tales, something exhausted and rotten had taken root in the hearts of the villagers.
Like the butterfly effect—where the flutter of a butterfly's wings could later stir up a massive storm—the witch's smallest gestures gradually wore the villagers down. The Witch Effect.
Rebecca's death settled quietly over the village. Yet no one could speak of it aloud. If the merchant guild began traveling through the area, the village would naturally enjoy unprecedented prosperity. The deaths of Rebecca and her brother were something that should be mourned, but they couldn't very well drive out the witch who had, however indirectly, become the root of their problems. They had received too much from her. They had grown far too accustomed to this life.
Rumors that expelling the witch would bring down a curse only added fuel to the fire. Anxiety crept over them like nails hammered into their hearts. The witch's curse had already begun. Even if she had killed Tony, it was Tony's problem—and Rebecca's fault for failing to keep him properly in line.
By the time the Verdandi Merchant Guild returned from their trade with the Holy Kingdom and stopped by the surrounding area, the village had become an opportunity to show many people that Garirill was a fertile land blessed by an unnamed god of the Holy Kingdom.
The Verdandi Merchant Guild stopped at Garirill on their way back after completing trade with the Holy Kingdom. The guild members and their mercenary escorts spared no expense from their newly fattened purses, thoroughly enjoying the village's abundance.
The guild master, Barum, and the village chief engaged in a heated discussion about trade between the Verdi Kingdom and the Holy Kingdom, as well as Garirill's bright future. The mercenary captain employed by Barum, along with Joshua's father, Jack, listened to their conversation and dreamed happily of the days to come.
“Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen that young lady named Rebecca around the village at all,” Barum said, his words slightly slurred from drink as he looked for her. The pleasant buzz had brought back memories of that one night they’d spent together. The way she had desperately struggled beneath him, doing everything she could to please a man, had strangely stirred his desires. He also entertained the thought that he might enjoy another satisfying night tonight.
The village chief and Jack’s expressions darkened for a moment, but they quickly composed themselves.
“Rebecca, she…”
“When I arrived in the village last time, didn’t she boldly come straight to my bedroom?” Barum raised his voice as if recounting a heroic tale, continuing proudly. “She asked me to deliver a letter in exchange for a single silver ring. Asking me to pass a letter to her closest acquaintance in the Holy Kingdom—honestly, in all my years, I’ve never heard such a request.”
“S-so… what happened…?”
“What do you mean, what happened? I told her a single silver ring wasn’t nearly enough. The connections of Barum, master of the Verdandi Merchant Guild, aren’t so cheap as to be bought with one silver ring. As you can see, I even have ties to the Heresy Inquisitors of the Holy Kingdom.”
His drunken state led him to embellish the story, adding lies to make himself seem more important. Since Rebecca had apparently been a popular girl in the village, and seeing the serious expressions on the chief and Jack’s faces, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he had only agreed to deliver the letter on the condition that he could have her.
“That’s all it was. It just reminded me of her when I thought of her name.”
“Rebecca, she…”
The village chief told Barum a carefully edited version of Rebecca’s story—one that left out any mention of the witch. It was a sad tale crafted to convince everyone. Since all the villagers had agreed to keep their stories consistent, there was no risk of being caught in a lie.
“…And so, we buried them together so that even in death, Rebecca and Tony could stay side by side.”
“To think such a tragic thing had happened. Since we must depart early tomorrow, I’ll take my leave here.”
Whether because of Rebecca’s death and the somber tale, the festive mood of the banquet had cooled. As Barum and the mercenary captain left their seats, the village chief and Jack remained seated.
“A letter to the Holy Kingdom…? Why on earth would Rebecca do something like that?”
“Chief, haven’t you heard the rumors that the Holy Kingdom is hunting witches?”
The atmosphere grew icy at the realization that Rebecca, who had been born and raised in Garirill, could have no possible connections in the Holy Kingdom, and had therefore resorted to such a reckless method.
“First, we need to find that letter.”
“Do you believe what the guild master said?”
The village chief was so overcome with fear that he could barely hold himself upright.
“It’s embarrassing to admit, but on the day Rebecca died, I searched her empty house from top to bottom. Other than that silver ring, she had no other valuables. I planned to sell it off appropriately when the guild returned later. But no matter how thoroughly I tore the place apart, I found nothing but a few coins. The silver ring was nowhere to be seen.”
Jack moved closer to the chief. While the chief’s pupils shook violently, Jack’s own expression was equally precarious.
“Do you understand what that means? In my opinion, that damned guild master is lying to us.”
That letter must have contained information about Garirill’s secret. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t happen. If the Holy Kingdom learned that Garirill had made a contract with a witch, killing the village chief alone wouldn’t solve anything. The entire village would be massacred.
“If that letter has reached the impressive connection the guild master mentioned… there are only two options left.”
Ways to escape the nails and hammers of the Heresy Inquisitors. Jack’s face was twisted with a madness that surpassed mere terror.
“Either we find the witch and kill her. Or we flee the village.”
“How are we supposed to kill the witch?!”
“If we don’t, we’re all going to die at the hands of the Heresy Inquisitors!”
Their voices grew louder. If it were only his own death, Jack could accept it. But he had a wife and Joshua to think about.
“Didn’t I tell you, Chief? We should never have left that girl Rebecca alone.”
The deed was already done. The Heresy Inquisitors could come bursting in as early as tomorrow. Regretting it now was meaningless, but if he could turn back time, Jack felt he would gladly drive an axe into Rebecca’s skull.
“Either way, whether we die by the witch or by the Inquisitors, it’s all the same, isn’t it?”
If he couldn’t calm Jack, whose eyes had turned bloodshot, the man looked ready to grab an axe and charge at the witch that very instant. There were no stories of any adult man successfully killing a witch, and acting rashly could instead bring about disaster. The chief clung desperately to his remaining reason and tried to persuade him.
“You’re right about many things. But listen to me. Killing the witch is fine. But before we do that, how about asking her for help first? She’s the witch who once saved the children. If we speak to her well, she might lend us aid. If she refuses, then you may do as you wish.”
“Let’s set out at dawn tomorrow. I’ll go with you.”
Morning came quickly. The merchant caravan had fled the village before dawn, slipping away without so much as a farewell. The sudden, silent departure left an uneasy feeling in everyone’s hearts. Jack regretted not cutting off the guild master’s legs and taking him hostage. Only now did the belated thought occur to him that if the Heresy Inquisitors arrived, the man’s impressive connections might at least spare his own family.
“Do you know where the witch lives?”
Jack, who looked exhausted from staying up all night, asked the chief while slinging an axe over his shoulder.
“Who do you think made the deal with the witch? Don’t worry.”
To avoid being cursed if he killed her, Jack wore a thick face covering. He had heard somewhere that if no one knew who did it, one could escape the curse—a superstition he now clung to. Just in case, he also slipped a vial of poison he had bought from the merchants into his pocket, which made him feel a little lighter.
Did the witch’s blessing even exist? Maybe the bountiful harvests were simply the result of their own hard work, just as others said. He, who had once revered the witch more than anyone in the village, now found himself saying she must be eliminated. The feeling made him feel almost like a Heresy Inquisitor himself.
“Chief, let’s go now.”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
The moment he reached for the door—
BANG—!
The door shattered from a violent impact, crushing the village chief beneath it. Jack looked at the group visible beyond the broken doorway and could only pray to the nameless god.
Plate armor engraved with the lion emblem symbolizing the Holy Kingdom. Eyes as white as if chosen by the divine itself.
“Pray. Until the dawn comes. Absolve yourselves of your sins.”
Eyes burning white like dawn between strands of platinum hair. The Third Sword of the Holy Kingdom. The witch hunter who had received the Pope’s command to hunt witches—Lucia.
She frowned at the traces of the witch she could feel scattered throughout the village. The old man pinned beneath the door and groaning in pain was particularly nauseating.
“Round them all up. We will begin the witch trial.”