“They are under spell. I don’t see any guards around,” Penny said before catching sight of a man, “Look there,” she pointed her hand. It was a man who got into the small building.
“It is always the magistrates,” walking to the building, they entered the building but when Penny saw who was there, a familiar face that was drawn on the poster out of reflex she pulled her crossbow and launched the arrow right at the witch hunter.
The magistrate appeared to look shocked at who was a human.
“My! Mouse, you need to ask a question,” Damien stated to have her reply,
“But look at his hands. I mean they are black,” Penny had thought he was a witch hunter at first glance but when she looked closer she realized it was a black witch. She didn’t remember when was the first time she had started to identify the black witches as it came and went quickly and sometimes showing it to be useless as her eyes couldn’t spot a black witch.
“D-don’t kill me!” the human magistrate cowered away from the witch who disappeared in thin air turning to dust while he stepped behind moving towards the wall.
“What is your relationship with the witch?” Damien placed the crossbow down at the table and pulled his revolver outside to point at the man.
Penny made a quick round to the table to check any possible information that was stacked in the desk but she didn’t find anything in there.
“I d-didn’t know he was a witch! Please spare me!” said the magistrate with his hands raised, “I thought he was a witch hunter.”
“What did he come here for? Does he work in this vicinity?” Damien started to interrogate.
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The human quickly nodded his head in fear. A sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.
“Speak!” Damien stated not wanting to waste time as they still had to track all the witch hunters who had changed and turned to work for the black witches, “I have no time to play mime with you, peasant.”
The magistrate gulped the tension down before opening his mouth to speak, “He-uh, he has been working here for a year now. He came here to ask if there were any visits from the Lord or officials.”
“What else?” Damien moved his revolver as if it were asking questions.
The man tried to remember but under the pressure of the revolver in front of him, he was worried for his dear life and scared right now, “Are you witch hunters?” the man asked in a whisper, and Damien gave a deadpanned look at the man. A gunshot echoed through the room as Damien had pulled the trigger to hit the wall.
“Was I asking you a question or you?” Damien raised his brow. Penny seeing how tense the man was tried to push the revolver away from being pointed at the man.
“Sir, we need to know what’s going on in the village. We don’t see anyone outside unless you are saying it is an extremely quiet village who doesn’t like to be outside.”
The human tried to speak but his face started to turn strange as if he were suffocating and unable to breathe, “Mister?” Damien held Penny’s arm so that she would go close to him and the man started to change his appearance and fall down on the ground to have his body look as if it were roasted under the sun.
“What the hell just happened?” Damien asked, staring down at the unmoving man.
Penny finally moved closer to the person and moved his hair behind his neck. There were stitches in there, “He was under the black witches’ spell and work.”
“We need to check the people in the house,” said Damien and they left the man in the building, heading out and going to the nearest house. Breaking into the house by kicking the door open. As expected they all looked terrified.
She couldn’t believe that the black witches had turned the village like this in the time of daylight as if no one would ever find out.
“I think this is part of the ritual,” Penny said looking at the people who didn’t move.
“It was easier to manage in the land of Valeria but this is Mythweald and the Lord here is an idiot who would be useless. It is possible that what happened in Valeria was only a test case scenario where they were trying to see if it would work. The trance-like state they have put the humans in. We don’t know how many trances like villages we have and going to search each and every one of them would be difficult,” said Damien stepping out of the house before pushing Penny back into the house.
Penny wondered what happened and she leaned to her side to catch sight of two witch hunters who were walking past the house without noticing that the house they passed had the door opened.
When they walked away, Damien said, “We need to follow them and see where we can find the other witch hunters. The only way we can find out and stop is killing the main ones who are trying to puppet these people.”
“Why not lure them here? Kill everyone who comes here who we are sure from the drawings that we already had. The ritual won’t take place until tomorrow night under the moon,” Penny proposed the idea to him.
“And what if the witch hunters don’t come here? We are yet to find where this ritual is going to place,” Penny brought her hand up to see the ball of light.
“Doesn’t look like it is here. Do you remember what the witch in the inn said?”
“About offering you and me work?” Penny quickly nodded her head, “What about it?”
“She spoke about an abandoned church. To go there. What if it is the witch’s lair? And what if that is where the ritual of unbinding magic is going to take place?”
“We are early here. Sparing three hours should be fine but if no one follows, we head out from here,” he said to her. Both of them crept up behind the witch hunters and when they turned around, neither of them showed mercy and pulled their crossbows, releasing the arrow that struck into their heads. They dragged the body into the house and Penny apologized to the family members,
“Please bear with it for some more time,” she said, not receiving anything in response and headed out of the house to take a patrol in the village.
Like many had suggested, the witch hunters had appeared in search of the previous ones and they killed every one of them before dragging them into hiding so that the new witch hunters wouldn’t know.
Almost five hours had passed and they had killed most of the witch hunters that they knew of along with some black witches.
“We have one witch hunter left. A woman,” Penny said looking at the picture, “Is she the one who was raised by the councilman?” she asked Damien.
“Hm. Her name is Mila. I am guessing she is with the black witches right now.”
