Chapter 86
The meeting dragged on for over three hours, with no conclusion in sight.
“If one of them is a witch, I believe it’s Isolen Sien. After all, Mori once underwent the Saintess Verification Rite. If she had been a witch, her blood would’ve turned black—we would’ve known then.”
“I agree. And wasn’t that rite personally conducted by Priest Ruphellon, the Archbishop’s representative?”
All eyes turned to Priest Ruphellon.
“Yes, I conducted the rite myself. There’s no reason to doubt the result. I too believe Lady Isolen Sien is the witch.”
Ruphellon shamelessly took Mori’s side. There was no way he could admit here that he had brought liquor instead of holy water at the time—and that Mori had drunk all of it. If he confessed such an embarrassing mistake in front of all the high priests, he’d be stripped of his position on the spot.
“Lady Isolen Sien also just went through the Saintess Verification Rite, didn’t she? Her blood was clearly red. That would suggest they’re both ordinary humans, which doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s true. And this is a separate point, but… relying on that rite to determine who’s a witch is rather flawed. Over the past five years, we’ve tested many people’s blood—some infants and even elderly men’s blood turned black. It seems the discoloration is due to some component in the blood, not witchcraft.”
“Then how on earth are we supposed to identify a witch? We can’t go around stabbing both of them with silver blades. This is a real mess.”
“I think Mori is the witch. I’ve heard she often used strange little tricks—perhaps all of that was really witchcraft.”
“From what I hear, Mori is just a talented magician. She’s helped many people using her skills. A witch would never help humans—they’d just leech off them.”
The temple became increasingly noisy. While the priests fiercely debated in the meeting room, nobles who’d caught wind of the rumor began flocking to the temple.
“Is it true that the Count Sien’s daughter is actually a witch?”
“I heard it was ‘Mori,’ a maid of the Grand Duke Edel. They say she pretended to be Lady Sien to cover up her identity as a witch.”
“Well, I’m going to believe it’s Lady Sien. Or at least make it seem that way. I’ve hated the Sien family for a long time—this is perfect.”
A noblewoman giggled as she glanced at Count Sien, who was anxiously pacing around in the distance, terrified that his daughter might actually be a witch.
Isolen and Gremory were each interrogated by the Archbishop.
The questioning didn’t happen in a prison, but in a guest room—since it wasn’t yet clear who the witch was, they couldn’t be treated as criminals.
The interrogation continued for several hours, but the Archbishop couldn’t make a decision. Both sides sounded equally convincing.
At last, he made a decision. He seated Isolen and Gremory side by side and placed a cup filled with a clear liquid in front of them.
“This is holy water. Normal people can drink it without issue. But if you’re a witch, you’ll feel a burning pain. …Though, even this isn’t completely reliable. Still, it’s a traditional method used in the past to identify witches.”
Gremory looked at the cup with a mocking expression.
Sure, it did feel like your throat was burning—kind of like drinking strong alcohol.
“Should I just chug it all at once?”
She glanced at Isolen as if to provoke her.
Isolen responded right away.
“If I drink it faster than her, does that count?”
“Well… the speed doesn’t matter, as long as you drink it all.”
The two looked like they were about to grab each other’s hair. The Archbishop sighed, exasperated.
Both women drank the holy water nearly at the same time, glaring at each other as they did, and slammed their empty cups onto the table.
“Archbishop, did you see? I’m fine.”
Isolen spread her arms dramatically, showing she was unharmed.
Gremory followed.
“I’m fine too.”
Not bad. Thanks to having drunk holy water before, she had some resistance. It actually left her feeling a bit tipsy in a pleasant way.
The Archbishop looked even more troubled.
“Hmmm… If both of you are fine… then let’s try this method. It’ll hurt, but please endure it. Think of it as part of clearing your name.”
He gestured to a young priest standing behind him. The priest brought forward an ornate box. Inside was a silver dagger.
“They say witches suffer immense pain when wounded by silver. May I cut your palm with this? I’ll follow the lines on your hand to avoid scarring.”
Isolen immediately held out her hand.
“I’m used to this method. Before the Grand Duke Edel rescued me, I went through a lot of witch hunts.”
Gremory proudly extended her palm too.
“Archbishop, please cut mine deeper than hers.”
Isolen glared at her.
“You damn witch! I bet you’re trembling right now.”
“Hah, shut up. You’re the one who looks like you’re about to cry.”
“Archbishop, can I get some popcorn? I want to see her squirm in pain. Some wine and snacks would be great too!”
“What the hell are you talking about, you delusional idiot?! Archbishop, give me the dagger. I’ll cut her myself!”
Eventually, the two of them really did grab each other’s hair and started rolling on the ground, shouting.
“Enough! Stop this nonsense! This is a matter of life and death—please cooperate properly!”
Only after the Archbishop roared did they return to their seats, hair in total disarray.
“I’ll cut Lady Sien’s hand first.”
“Fine by me.”
Isolen confidently held out her hand. The Archbishop made a cut on her palm. She only grimaced slightly, enduring the pain without issue.
The priest behind the Archbishop immediately pressed a white cloth to her hand to stop the bleeding.
“Next, Mori. Give me your hand.”
“Here you go.”
Gremory boldly extended her hand. Honestly, she was a little scared—but the holy water’s effects dulled her fear.
The Archbishop’s silver dagger touched her palm. Gremory flinched, bracing herself for the terrible pain she knew was coming.
I have to endure this.
She clenched her teeth. As expected, an awful pain surged through her palm. The silver was high-quality—the pain was worse than she’d imagined.
Isolen, noticing Gremory’s twisted expression, taunted her.
“Hey, does it hurt? Wanna scream and beg them to stop?”
“Shut up. You’re annoying.”
“Why don’t you just admit you’re a witch? The tests aren’t over—you think you can endure all of them?”
“Hah, look who’s—!”
“Quiet! For heaven’s sake, be quiet!”
The Archbishop finally lost his temper.
“If you keep bickering, I can’t tell if you’re grimacing from pain or just from anger!”
“Sorry. I’ll be quiet now.”
Having achieved her goal, Isolen turned her head smugly.
Thus ended Gremory’s witch test.
While a priest tended to her hand, the Archbishop fell back into deep thought.
Sigh… Could it be that neither of them is a witch? Weren’t they supposedly quite close before all this?
That left two possibilities.
What if both women are innocent, and the real witch is someone else?
What if the real witch orchestrated all this to drive a wedge between the two of them?
No, that would complicate things too much. And it’s unlikely. Witches aren’t even supposed to exist anymore.
The final possibility was black magic.
Perhaps someone who hated the Sien or Edel families had used dark magic to slander both.
Yes… black magic. That seems like the most likely answer. Unlike witches, black magic is known to exist in the world.
With that conclusion, the Archbishop’s face relaxed noticeably.
After finishing his duties, he stepped outside the temple building—only to be taken aback by the crowd of nobles swarming the front.
Ugh… what a mess. But I suppose that’s to be expected with wild rumors about witches running around.
The nobles were divided into groups, each loudly arguing.
Some, enemies of the Sien family, insisted that Isolen was the witch.
Others, enemies of Grand Duke Edel, claimed both Mori and Isolen were witches.
And then there were those scoffing at the very idea that witches even existed.
Amid the chaos, Cheshion arrived—pushing through the commotion to stand before the Archbishop.
