Sagres silently regarded the unicorn's headless and tailless corpse for a moment, his eyes devoid of emotion.
Then he lingered no longer. His form once again transformed into the shadow of a raven as he flew north, in the direction of the witch-hunting party.
As he crossed the vast Forbidden Forest, the landscape below gradually changed from dense primeval woodland to cultivated fields and scattered villages.
Eventually, Sagres landed on the outskirts of a village and quickly used Transfiguration on himself, altering his appearance to suit the aristocratic fashion of the era.
He wore a well-made but not overly extravagant dark travelling outfit, with a decorative rapier at his waist, making him look like a young gentleman out for a journey.
He stopped an elderly farmer carrying a hoe, whose face was filled with worry.
"Farmer, I heard the Church's party passed through here not long ago. Do you know where they went?"
Sagres's tone was proud, but not excessively rude.
Seeing his clothing, the old farmer did not dare neglect him. He quickly bowed and replied, "Yes, sir. The gentlemen of the Holy Hunt only just left. They... took a girl from the village, saying she was a witch. And one of the knights from the Purifying Fire Knights even killed a monster that looked half wolf and half man when it ran out of the woods. Very brave of him..."
The Holy Hunt mentioned by the farmer was an organisation jointly established by radical members of the Church and high-ranking nobles.
They were not merely fanatical believers. They also regarded witch hunting as a means of seizing land and wealth while consolidating their authority. Many wizards had even joined them, helping the Church persecute their own kind.
The Purifying Fire Knights were the Church's armed force, composed largely of younger sons of noble families and fallen knights.
They were equipped with silver weapons crafted using goblin techniques and coated with simple anti-magic layers, making them the main force in witch-hunting operations.
The common people, however, played the pitiful role of those deceived by the Church.
Under constant claims that "reporting wizards is a sacred duty" and rumours that "wizards cause disasters", trust between neighbours had completely collapsed.
Any misfortune could be blamed on the "suspicious" recluse living next door.
Sagres obtained the information he wanted, casually tossed the old farmer a silver coin, and continued in the direction he had indicated, ignoring the man's profuse thanks.
He travelled at an unhurried pace, taking in the scenery along the way, and reached another, somewhat larger village before sunset.
From a distance, he spotted the party.
It was larger than he had expected.
At its centre were several clerics from the Holy Hunt, dressed in ornate black robes and wearing arrogant expressions.
Surrounding them were more than a dozen Purifying Fire Knights in gleaming armour and white cloaks embroidered with flame insignias.
The knights had sharp eyes and were clearly well-trained elites.
In addition, dozens of peasant attendants carrying crude weapons such as pitchforks and clubs were responsible for driving and guarding the prisoners.
The line of captives was particularly striking.
Around seven or eight men and women were chained together with crude iron shackles.
Among them were elderly people with vacant expressions, trembling children, and several defiant young men and women.
Most were dressed in rags and covered in scars.
One hunched old man among the prisoners was especially noticeable.
He wore a heavy wooden cangue. His grey hair was dishevelled, and his head hung low, hiding his face.
Yet a chilling silence seemed to emanate from him, completely at odds with his surroundings, like a piece of cold iron fallen into the mud.
Sagres's gaze lingered on the shadowed old man for a moment before sweeping across the entire group.
He could sense that more than one "valuable" target was hidden among them.
Slowing his pace, he pretended to be an ordinary traveller passing through and blended into the crowd gathered at the village entrance, quietly observing the scene.
A cleric dressed in ornate black robes, with a large gemstone ring on one finger, arrogantly ordered the village chief to gather all the villagers immediately.
While they waited, the clerics and knights unceremoniously occupied the best houses in the village, brought out their own wine and fine food, and began eating and drinking as though no one else were present, all under the villagers' fearful and awed gazes.
Before long, every man, woman, and child in the village had been driven into the open space at the centre of the settlement, where they gathered together in fear and unease.
The cleric wearing the gemstone ring, escorted by two Purifying Fire Knights, climbed onto a slightly raised earthen platform.
He cleared his throat, his voice carrying a deliberately cultivated solemnity and compassion that barely concealed his arrogance.
"Lost lambs! Do you know why the glory of the Holy Hunt and the Purifying Fire Knights has descended upon your remote land?"
He surveyed the bewildered and frightened faces below before continuing in an inflammatory tone.
"Because darkness is spreading!"
"Not long ago, a village infiltrated by the evil organisation known as the Withering Society became a testing ground for those wizard demons and their new plague!"
A low gasp rippled through the crowd.
"A poor villager infected by that evil plague managed to escape and fled all the way to the holy Salisbury Cathedral, seeking the protection of my Lord!"
The cleric's voice suddenly rose, filled with anger.
"However, while he was praying devoutly before the holy image... a mutation occurred! Before the eyes of hundreds of faithful believers, his body underwent a horrifying transformation! The power of vile demons manifested itself within a sacred place!"
The villagers below turned pale at his description, as though they had witnessed the sacrilegious scene themselves.
"This is the most malicious provocation against my Lord and the Church!"
The cleric waved his arms dramatically.
"Therefore, the Church, together with the honoured nobility, has launched this holy and righteous witch hunt, vowing to purge from the world those wizards who spread plague and death!"
He paused deliberately, allowing fear to take root in the hearts of the villagers, before continuing in a grave tone.
"The new plague spread by the wizards is known as the Scarlet Fever Plague. It is not merely a disease, but an evil combination of curse and pestilence! Once infected, death is inevitable, and the dead... the dead will not rest! Their corpses will be transformed by the curse into evil Inferi that hunger for the flesh and blood of the living!"
"Inferi..."
The word swept through the crowd like a cold wind, provoking an even greater commotion and fearful whispers.
"Silence!"
The cleric rebuked them contemptuously, as though the villagers' fear itself were an insult to the Church.
"Panic will solve nothing! Only piety and the guidance of my Lord can lead you through this calamity!"
His sharp gaze swept across the gathered villagers.
"Now, tell me! Has anyone suspicious appeared in your village recently? Or has anyone behaved strangely, displaying abilities that defy reason? Any suspected wizard must be reported immediately! Anyone who conceals information will be punished by fire!"
His words were like cold water thrown into boiling oil, instantly setting the villagers into an uproar.
Fearful, suspicious glances began darting from one person to another, and an eerie atmosphere quickly spread through the crowd.
Sagres stood at the edge of the gathering.
He clearly saw that the shadowed old man wearing the wooden cangue moved his lowered head almost imperceptibly when he heard the words "Withering Society" and "Scarlet Fever Plague".
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