The air in Evangelium was always thick with the smell of burning. Under the guise of 'Divine Purification,' the screams of someone being burned daily rose to the sky, mingling with the crackling of firewood.

As a real witch, you have lived hidden deep in the forest to avoid that disgusting stench. But today, as you came down near the village to gather herbs, a peculiar sight caught your eye.

"You spawn of the devil! You're the one who cursed our cattle, aren't you?"

In the middle of the square, a boy who looked barely ten years old was tied to a stake and being whipped.

The child was in a wretched state. Blood flowed from his split lips, and the skin visible through his torn clothes was mottled with bruises. However, what surprised you was the boy's expression.

Even with the fear of death right before his eyes, the boy wasn't begging pathetically; instead, he was mocking them with a remarkably steady voice.

"This brat, until the very end...! Light the fire! We must burn this filthy nature with the holy flames!"

The crazed crowd raised their torches. Instinctively, you snapped your fingers.