"Sister Vivian."
Time rewinds to the moment when Bishop Orad was attending the banquet. Within the church, the alchemist Hobert had dismissed every other clergy member, leaving only Vivian behind.
"Let me introduce myself," Hobert said, smiling pleasantly. "I am Hobert — Senior Priest of the Duchy's Church, a Tier-3 Alchemist of the Royal Alchemists' Association, and currently acting head of the Duchy's Convent. That means…" He paused, his narrowed eyes glinting with cold menace. "I am your direct superior."
He looked down at Vivian as though she were a criminal on trial. His tone was calm but filled with threat.
"I heard you have quite a close relationship with Lord Hel of Heim."
"I…"
Being suddenly interrogated like this, Vivian was at first startled. But she quickly calmed herself, lowering her gaze to the floor, avoiding his eyes.
"I've only met Lord Hel a few times," she said quietly. "He appointed me to oversee Heim's church only because I was the most suitable person available."
"The most suitable?" Hobert's smile grew sharper. "And that's your excuse for betraying Father Gerhard?"
"Betrayal? That's not true. Father Gerhard feared that Beastmen assassins had infiltrated the city, so he requested Lord Hel to appoint a temporary replacement. That's all."
Hobert didn't argue. He simply waved his hand.
A middle-aged knight stepped out from behind him, gathered battle aura between his legs, and stomped the ground. In an instant, he crossed the distance between them and seized Vivian by the shoulder, forcing her down to the floor before she could even react.
"Right and wrong don't matter anymore," Hobert said evenly as he walked toward her.
He reached into his robes and drew out a small glass vial, slowly twisting the stopper open.
"We received an anonymous letter," he continued. "It claims that a necromancer is hiding within the Heim church. After extensive investigation, I've determined that person is you, Sister Vivian."
"No… I'm not!"
Vivian struggled to raise her head, panic flashing through her eyes. She had never expected them to strike so suddenly, without even pretense of due process. But she knew she couldn't fall into their hands. If she did, the people she cared about would be doomed.
Yet the knight's iron grip was unrelenting — she couldn't break free.
She tried to stall with words. "According to church law, any accusation against clergy must be judged by the Tribunal. You wouldn't risk tainting your record over someone as insignificant as me… would you?"
"You're right," Hobert said softly.
He crouched down, gently swirling the liquid inside the vial.
"But that would take too long. I happen to have some holy water here. If you drink it, the truth will reveal itself naturally."
"Holy water?"
Vivian's pupils constricted.
If she were still her former self, she would have nothing to fear.
But now she was a witch — the most reviled of all heretics.
Holy water would burn her alive from within.
What do I do?
Her eyes locked on the vial as dread filled her chest. She tried desperately to resist, but it was useless. She could only watch as the liquid was poured into her mouth. She wanted to spit it out — but the moment it touched her tongue, it vanished completely, absorbed into her body.
"There," Hobert said, standing up. "The holy water takes some time to work. By morning, everything will be revealed. Until then, to prevent… complications, you'll have to stay here."
He gestured to the knight, who lifted Vivian effortlessly and threw her into the church dungeon.
Not long after, Orad returned. He saw Hobert sitting calmly, sipping tea as though waiting for him, and sat across from him.
"How did it go?" Orad asked.
"Everything's ready," Hobert replied with a smile. "By sunrise, the potion will have taken effect. Then we can drag her out and confront that lord directly."
"The plan's changed a little," Orad muttered, frowning. "That Hel… he's more well-connected than I thought. We can't touch him — not yet."
"Oh?" Hobert's brow furrowed. "Explain."
"He's backed by a titled King-rank warrior, and has six fourth-tier knights at his side. If we fought, only the two of us might make it out alive."
"That's… troublesome," Hobert admitted. "Then we take care of the traitor tomorrow and leave immediately."
"Maybe we should just take her and run under cover of night," Orad suggested nervously. He was shaken — afraid that Hel still had unseen trump cards.
"No," Hobert said firmly. "We need to expose her in public. Only with the crowd as witness can we cement her guilt — and shift the blame onto that lord."
"…Fine." Orad gritted his teeth and nodded, though unease lingered in his chest. "When will the potion take effect?"
"In eight hours. Around six in the morning," Hobert replied. "But setting up the gallows and gathering witnesses takes time. I'd suggest eight o'clock."
"No — six," Orad cut him off. "Before that lord even wakes up, this needs to be done."
"…As you wish."
And so, as the night deepened, Hobert organized the clergy to build the execution stage. They went door to door, waking the sleeping townsfolk and ordering them to gather before the church square.
The commotion quickly reached Hel's manor.
Hel frowned — she had no idea what the church was up to, but at least Heim was stable now. It wouldn't be long before she could handle this herself.
Meanwhile, as dawn approached, Orad and Hobert stood before the dungeon. Everything was ready — the crowd, the gallows, the ceremony.
They pushed open the heavy iron door.
But instead of the foul stench of death they expected, a surge of vibrant life energy hit them in the face.
Vivian was curled up in the corner of her cell. Behind her… a pair of dark brown wings lay limp against the ground, like they had no bones to hold them up.
"This is…"
For a moment, Orad froze — then his eyes widened in ecstatic realization.
"A mixed-blood Beastman mongrel!"