The cleric's words were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring waves of suspicion in the hearts of the terrified villagers.
Those ripples quickly spread, eventually turning into a tide of mutual accusations.
"My lord! I have something to report!"
A tall, thin villager suddenly pointed at a short, stocky neighbour beside him and shrieked, "John... a few nights ago, I saw him muttering to his sick livestock with my own eyes, and the very next day the animal recovered! It must have been witchcraft!"
John's face instantly turned pale.
He waved his hands frantically. "You're lying! I was just... I was just praying!"
The cleric on the raised platform narrowed his eyes, a cold sneer curling his lips.
"Oh? Praying to livestock? Suspicious indeed. Seize him!"
Two Purifying Fire Knights immediately stepped forward and roughly twisted John's arms behind his back.
John struggled desperately.
"No! I'm not a wizard! He's slandering me because he wants the land beside my house!"
But one of the knights mercilessly drove a fist into his stomach.
John immediately doubled over like a shrimp.
His groans of pain caught in his throat as he was dragged like an animal awaiting slaughter to join the other prisoners, then bound with cold iron chains.
The moment the chains clicked shut, desperation seemed to drive John into a frenzy.
He suddenly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes locking onto the tall, thin villager who had reported him.
"Will! You despicable bastard! Do you think you're innocent? Your family's ox can plough all day without eating grass, and it's unnaturally strong! And your wife almost died giving birth last year. How did she suddenly recover? No one has even seen her these past few days. She must have fled because she was afraid!"
The accusation immediately flustered Will.
He hurriedly turned towards the cleric.
"My lord! He... he's slandering me! That ox is just strong, and my wife was... was lucky. She's only gone back to visit her family. She hasn't run away!"
The cleric merely waved a hand indifferently.
"To prevent any evil wizards from escaping, seize him as well. Bring him back for interrogation."
Two more knights stepped forward and moved towards Will.
Will completely broke down, struggling and shouting, "No! You can't do this! Does the Church no longer care about right and wrong? God will punish you!"
"Silence!"
The cleric's expression darkened, and a cruel glint flashed in his eyes.
He raised one hand.
A scorching white beam of light instantly shot from his sleeve and struck Will squarely.
"Ah!"
Will let out a piercing scream as his entire body was engulfed in flames.
He writhed frantically in the fire, his skin blackening and peeling away with crackling sounds.
Within moments, under the horrified gazes of the entire village, he had been reduced to a curled, smoking black corpse.
The pungent stench of burning flesh spread through the air.
The entire village fell deathly silent.
Only the faint crackle of dying embers and the villagers' suppressed gasps remained.
The cleric behaved as though he had merely swatted a fly.
He took out a clean white handkerchief, wiped his fingers, and ordered coldly, "Go. Bring me the ox from that blasphemer's house. I want to see just how 'strong' it really is."
His gaze swept over the cowering villagers once more, like a venomous snake searching for its next victim.
The gloomy old man wearing the wooden cangue seemed to curl his lips into a faint mocking smile.
Not far away, an owl took flight from the poplar tree at the entrance to the village, flapped its wings, and disappeared into the distance without anyone noticing.
Except Sagres.
He looked in the direction the owl had flown, cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, and followed it into the nearby forest.
The air around the village entrance was thick with the stench of burnt flesh and suffocating fear.
The cleric looked contentedly at the newly charred corpse on the ground, as though admiring his own handiwork.
He cleared his throat, his voice carrying loudly across the silent village.
"Lost lambs!"
He spread his arms and assumed a compassionate expression.
"The evil creations of wizards are often hidden in the most inconspicuous places, clinging to the gold and silver that embody greed! Now, in the name of the Church, I ask you: do any of you keep gold or silver objects in your homes? Of any shape, from any source! Voluntarily surrender them and allow the Holy Fire to purify the corruption within them. That is your only path to salvation!"
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances, their faces filled with confusion and terror.
A brave old farmer spoke up in a trembling voice.
"My lord... poor people like us can barely afford enough to eat. How could we possibly own gold or silver?"
"Yes, my lord. We've never even seen a silver spoon..."
"The most valuable thing in our house is an iron pot..."
The scattered replies were filled with humble pleading.
A cold sneer returned to the cleric's lips.
He slowly stepped down from the platform and approached the old farmer who had spoken first.
"None?"
He drew out the word, his cold gaze scraping across the old farmer's wrinkled face like a blade.
Then he extended the same hand that had just taken a life and lightly pressed it against the old farmer's forehead.
The old farmer's entire body stiffened, and he nearly collapsed from fear.
The cleric closed his eyes for a moment as though sensing something.
Then he suddenly opened them and pointed directly at the old farmer.
"You're lying! Beneath your stove is an earthenware pot containing one gold coin and twelve silver coins! That is wealth you obtained by passing off inferior grain as good grain and deceiving a neighbouring village. It has long been tainted by the curse of greed!"
The old farmer looked as though he had been struck by lightning, his face instantly turning ashen.
Two Purifying Fire Knights immediately stepped forward, their hands gripping his shoulders like pincers.
"No! No! Mercy, my lord! I'll get it! I'll take you there right now!"
The old farmer burst into tears and practically crawled as he led the knights towards his dilapidated thatched hut.
A short while later, the knights returned carrying a small earthenware pot stained with mud.
They tipped out its contents, revealing a pitiful handful of gold and silver coins.
The cleric picked up one of the gold coins and held it towards the light.
As his fingertips touched the surface, a wisp of white smoke rose from the coin.
"Hmph. As expected, the dark curse clings to it like maggots to bone."
He casually tossed the gold coin back into the cloth bag held by one of the knights, then looked down at the old farmer sprawled on the ground.
"Since you surrendered it voluntarily, the Holy Fire will not burn your flesh. But your soul still requires repentance."
The old farmer lay limp on the ground like mud.
The relief of surviving mingled with the pain of losing his possessions, leaving him able only to whimper miserably.
The cleric did not even spare him another glance.
Instead, he turned towards a sallow, emaciated middle-aged man nearby.
"Are you hiding any evil gold or silver objects?"
The man recoiled in terror.
"N-no..."
But the cleric closed the distance in a single step and once again pressed his palm against the man's forehead.
"Ah!"
The cleric suddenly pulled his hand back as though he had been burned and pointed sharply at the man.
"An evil aura! You are entangled with unspeakable corruption! Disloyalty to the Church runs through your blood!"
"I don't! My lord, I truly have nothing!" the man shrieked in despair.
"Stubborn!"
The cleric flicked his sleeve, and the scorching beam of light erupted once more.
"Argh!"
The scream was cut off abruptly.
Another charred corpse collapsed in the centre of the village square beside the previous one, forming a horrifying sight.
The cleric's expression remained unchanged as he barked at the village chief.
"You, lead the way! Take us to this blasphemer's house! The Holy Light guides me. A silver candelabrum is hidden there, an object steeped in profound darkness!"
The elderly village chief trembled all over, not daring to disobey.
He quickly led one of the knights away.
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