Witch hunts are one of the most infamous scandals of the early modern period, a cornerstone of the collective image of the "Dark Middle Ages."
In reality, however, an analysis of existing records from the Roman Curia and various local church inquisitions reveals that while large-scale witch trials were not entirely non-existent, the popular perception is largely a fabrication.
The prerequisite for trying a heretic is the existence of heresy, something only an extremely sensitive religious organization would undertake.
But in the Middle Ages, the Catholic Church was the sole dominant power. It faced no crisis of faith and therefore had little incentive to conduct witch trials.
According to detailed later research, the ones who truly enjoyed conducting witch trials were the Protestants, after the Reformation.
Protestantism itself was born from heresy, so it placed extraordinary importance on the purity of faith. Blaming the witch trials on the Catholics was a standard political maneuver, hardly worth mentioning.
Generally, witch hunts were primarily a means to build consensus and divide property—in other words, to seize the assets of the heirless and accused.
Normally, while the Church's rule was still intact, such things rarely happened.
Unfortunately, reality has never needed to be reasonable.
Percher's father didn't know what the Black Death was; he only knew that an epidemic had reached his lands. He didn't know what a witch was either; he was simply slapping on a label to steel his resolve.
The only thing he knew was that many serfs in the village were showing symptoms similar to Percher's, and these serfs seemed to have passed the symptoms to their families.
This terrifying phenomenon immediately ignited his fear.
If he didn't do something to stop it, all the villagers under his command would likely catch the same disease and die. To a noble, these villagers were his property.
While a dozen or so might be replaceable, the entire village was an irreplaceable asset. Without commoners and slaves, how could he distinguish himself as a noble?
But more important than his noble status was his own life. What if he, too, contracted this terrible curse?
Out of fear of death, he turned his gaze to the infected villagers.
Having never been educated, trained in any academic discipline, or even clear on basic theology, he was naturally incapable of using controlled variables or scientific methods of quarantine.
Faced with these patients who had lost their ability to function, who could no longer work and could potentially cause more deaths, the first thing that popped into the lord's mind was a primitive and savage solution.
Kill them!
He didn't know where the disease came from or how it spread, but that didn't matter. As long as he confirmed they were infected, that they were cursed, all he had to do was kill them.
After all, dead people couldn't spread curses, could they?
With this mindset, he used his authority and violence to intimidate the villagers, gathering the patients who had lost the ability to resist. Then, with his authority, he announced his decision.
THUD!
Under the fierce blow of the wooden club, blood splattered on the ground. A villager's body fell. Aside from the victim's family, everyone else breathed a sigh of relief.
They didn't know if this would work, but since the lord said so, it must mean something, right? Ultimately, doing something was far better than doing nothing.
After an hour of this slaughter, which was less a trial and more a massacre, the lord finally remembered one person he had missed: his daughter, Percher, who was now Su Mo's handmaiden.
To be fair, he was reluctant to lay a hand on Percher. It wasn't out of any non-existent father-daughter affection, but purely out of fear of Su Mo's reaction.
Taking matters into his own hands with a great personage's handmaiden was unlikely to end well.
However, remembering the humiliation of Percher feeding the pudding to the dogs in front of him, remembering his own "bravery" in executing the sick, and thinking of the living death that awaited him if he were infected, a surge of bravado rose within the lord.
He had already come this far with the killing. What if he left one potential threat behind? Su Mo's attitude was uncertain, but what if he himself got infected?
The fear of death quickly helped him rationalize his decision.
Killing my daughter is something I can't help. Who told her to get sick and be cursed by the devil? The devil is to blame, not me. Even if Su Mo finds out, he probably won't punish me. On the contrary, he might even reward me. As far as I know, the greater the personage, the more they cherish their own life. Who would risk their life for a mere handmaiden? And if Su Mo is truly that foolish, then I'll have to question why this curse arrived with his carriage in the first place.
With this web of thoughts constructed, convinced that his decision was absolutely correct, he walked towards Percher, his blood-stained club in hand.
"..."
Her eyes reflected the murderous intent of her own father. The small girl trembled, tasting the fear of her life hanging by a thread for the first time.
A light drizzle began to fall from the gray sky, washing the blood from the club, down the lord's hand, and onto the ground, diluting it until the red was gone, leaving only the faint smell of iron.
In that instant, Percher felt as if she were in a dream. The peace and joy of the past week felt like a pre-death fantasy, and the cold scene before her was the true reality.
The noble and mysterious Lord Su Mo was not here. The enigmatic and lively Lady Kurma was not here. The strict and old-fashioned but not entirely unpleasant Leticia was not here. The mysterious, sister-complex-having Lamia who loved to tease her was not here...
Aihara Enju and the other two had left and not returned, leaving her alone with this cold reality.
In probably less than ten seconds, she would die at the hands of the lord. One moment she was in heaven, the next she had arrived in hell. Cinderella's magic stopped at midnight, but it was only noon!
As her thoughts drifted aimlessly, Percher gave up on uselessly trying to persuade the lord, and simply raised the corners of her mouth in a sarcastic smile.
A fat arm was raised high, filled with unparalleled determination.
WHOOSH!
The club whistled through the air. Percher closed her eyes, images of Su Mo and the others flashing in her mind. In the final moment of her life, she had no intention of looking at the lord before her.
"Stop!"
Leticia's stern yet heroically dignified voice suddenly rang out from behind Percher.
Immediately following was the sound of the club being intercepted and a heavy object thudding to the ground. It was most likely the lord, knocked to the dirt.
Hearing that voice, Percher first froze, then her eyes lit up with immense joy as a powerful sense of security washed over her.
"...Lady Leticia!"
Turning her head, she saw the head maid standing behind her with perfect composure, using an indistinct black shadow blade to cut her bonds.
Weakened, she was freed from the ropes and immediately fell into two small, familiar embraces.
"Percher, are you okay?" Aihara Enju asked with concern.
"She still seems to have a fever," Senju Kayo concluded, touching her forehead.
"I-I'm fine... well, not really, but I won't die just yet." Still dizzy from the rain, Percher shook her head. She couldn't keep up the tough act for long and chose to admit defeat.
Supported by her two companions, she managed to stand.
Looking around, she saw the villagers, their faces filled with awe and terror, backing away. She saw the lord, knocked to the ground by some unknown force. And she saw Su Mo and Kurma, who had just arrived.
"Devils! It's the power of devils! You are the messengers of the devil!" the lord shrieked in absolute terror.
He hadn't seen what had struck him down, only a blurry black shadow.
But without a doubt, it was no human attack. Not to mention the ghostly manner in which Leticia had appeared. One moment there was no one, the next she was behind Percher.
If that wasn't the power of a devil, what was?
No wonder these people possess such magnificent luxuries, yet I've never heard their names. So they aren't foreign nobles, but devils who play with the hearts of men! These curses must have been brought by them. It all makes sense now!
The lord's wails sparked terror in all the villagers. They all fell to their knees, trembling, and desperately tried to distance themselves from Su Mo's group.
When the lord had declared Percher a devil or a witch, no one was afraid; they all knew she wasn't.
But when beings who truly seemed demonic appeared, they could only prostrate themselves in worship and keep their distance.
Hearing the lord's terrified voice, Percher was slightly taken aback. She was quite fond of Leticia and was unwilling to accept this accusation.
But... if they weren't devils, how could they have appeared so suddenly?
Out of trust, she looked to Leticia, hoping for an answer.
However—
"Devils?" Hearing this, Leticia let out a scornful scoff. "My master is hardly something so low-class."
"..."
Percher's eyes widened instinctively. Wait a minute, sister! What does that mean? If the Master isn't a devil but something of a higher class, he can't be Satan, can he?