Chapter 47: The Witch Hunt
The black-robed leader froze, clearly not expecting Arthur to remain utterly defiant even with his men surrounding him.
As the situation reached a stalemate, another black-robed man stepped forward:
"This gentleman is a priest of the Order of the White Flame, a legal faith within the Principality of Maribor."
"According to the Novigrad Concord, we have autonomous jurisdiction over our internal religious affairs. Please return the boy to us."
This second black robe was clearly the real power among them. As he spoke, several onlookers were subtly and intentionally shifting forward, a hand reaching into their robes, seemingly gripping something hard.
It was evident that if Arthur continued to be uncooperative, these men would draw their hidden objects to enforce their faith's "autonomous jurisdiction."
"Stand still!" Arthur raised his sword, pointing it at the 'onlookers,' forcing them to retreat with his gaze before turning back to the influential black robe:
"I'll make this quick. Where is the boy's mother?"
"No wonder you are so protective of this little demon." The influential black robe let out a screeching laugh like a night owl: "Don't be deceived by him. He is the product of a witch consorting with a fiend. Though he appears human now, once the night is quiet, he will crawl up and feast on human hearts and drink human blood."
Arthur looked at the man and sneered coldly:
"So, by your account, his mother is the witch who consorted with a fiend?"
More 'onlookers' gathered, and the influential black-robed man finally tore off his mask of meekness. With the sound of chainmail rattling, he took a long step back:
"It seems someone wishes to challenge the authority of the Order of the White Flame and overturn the judgment on the hateful witch. How shall we deal with this heretic?"
The 'onlookers' shouted in unison:
"Trial! Trial! Trial!"
"How shall the trial proceed?"
"By the baptism of fire!"
Arthur was already prepared to draw his sword, but upon hearing their shouted pronouncements, he decided to pause briefly:
"What is this baptism of fire?"
The black robes parted, revealing an iron basin filled with glowing coals, on top of which a horseshoe was burning red-hot.
The black-robed priest finally mustered his courage, lifting the searing horseshoe with iron tongs:
"Come. If you can carry this horseshoe and walk ten paces without any scorching or burn marks on your hand, you will be absolved of the suspicion of conspiring with a fiend…"
Arthur stared past the priest to Mara, who was curled up naked in a wooden cage behind him:
"Fine…" The priest, who was clearly some kind of idiot, completely missed the nuance in Arthur's voice, truly believing Arthur intended to undergo the so-called 'baptism of fire.'
The priest stepped forward a few paces with the tongs, waiting for Arthur to reach out and take the iron.
Arthur extended his hand, but instead of showing his palm, he formed the gesture for the Aard Sign:
"Aard!"
A translucent wave of kinetic force erupted from his palm. The horseshoe tore free of the tongs with barely a wobble, flipped in the air, and imprinted itself firmly on the priest's chest.
The priest let out a loud shriek, scrambling to run, but tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground.
"Wrap it tight around your thigh. I still have questions for you later, so don't die too quickly." Arthur unbuckled his sword harness and threw the leather strap to the priest, then roared, charging straight at the influential black-robed man.
"Stop him! Quick, stop him!"
The influential black-robed man was no longer composed. Though he had drawn his sword, he didn't have the courage to even face Arthur, instead plunging into the crowd. He shoved his way through and vanished after only a few shoves.
"Don't block my way!"
Arthur roared and charged into the mass of black robes, but they were all dressed alike, and now in a panicked knot it was impossible to locate the figure who had been giving the orders.
"Look out!"
Unable to find the ringleader, Arthur intended to first free Mara, but then heard Triss's startled cry from the window behind him.
A needle-like chill stabbed his lower back, raising goosebumps on his skin.
Arthur didn't break stride, snapping his longsword backward. With a clang, a short sword flashed past his peripheral vision and flew into the sky.
"Fine, fine. I gave you a chance to live!"
Arthur glanced back to see that his attacker wasn't an 'onlooker' but a black-clad figure. With no more hesitation, he thrust his arm, sending the tip of his sword into the attacker's heart.
"He's killed a man! A demon has attacked a man of the cloth!"
Seeing Arthur actually strike, the black robes panicked even more. Yet, instead of fleeing, they surged toward the fallen priest, momentarily revealing the influential black-robed man who was trying to slip away.
"Don't come any closer! If you do, I'll kill the woman!"
The black-robed man pulled a short sword from his robe and held it to Mara's throat. He didn't expect Arthur to drop his guard for the woman, but the 'onlookers' were already sprinting toward them. If Arthur hesitated for even a moment, he would be caught in a forest of pitchforks and hoes.
"Kill her, and you won't live either!"
Arthur scoffed at the black-robed man's threat, moving even faster.
This black robe had chainmail and a crowd of men secretly following him this was far too organized for a suddenly emerging cult leader. He might even be the mastermind behind this whole damn White Flame cult!
Such men usually cherished their lives and were unlikely to risk killing Mara just to provoke Arthur.
Seeing Arthur show no hesitation whatsoever, the black-robed man roared in frustration, forcefully shoving the wooden cage containing Mara, and turning to flee:
"She's all yours!"
This black robe was a veteran of foul deeds, leaving Arthur with a final problem even as he ran: the cage was cylindrical, and when shoved, it immediately began rolling down the slope toward the river.
"Triss!" Arthur shouted, hoping Triss would lend a hand.
But the tavern window was silent, and there was no surge of magical energy.
What's wrong over there?
Arthur's heart leaped, and he slowed down just enough to lose the race against the rapidly rolling cage.
He threw a glance at the tavern. The 'onlookers' were indeed smashing the door with their various tools but were being repelled by an invisible barrier Triss had clearly protected the tavern with magic.
No wonder she couldn't spare a hand to help.
How many times have these bastards done this sort of thing for them to coordinate so perfectly! Arthur's rage instantly boiled over. A light blue ripple swept out like a storm, and the 'onlookers' immediately dropped their weapons and scattered.
Arthur suppressed the urge to chase them down and run a sword through each one, instead turning to pursue the cage rolling toward the river.
While the effect of the War Cry was good, the conditions for using it were too strict, requiring him to be nearly berserk for the best results.
I need to ask Triss to teach me a crowd-control spell that I can actively and preemptively cast...
With these thoughts flashing through his mind, Arthur leaped, following the splash of the cage as he slammed into the icy river.
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