Chapter 841: Hello, Old ‘Friend’
The priests at the front of the procession immediately stopped moving, spun around, and rushed toward the woman, holding up their holy symbols and murmuring prayers.
White, sparkling light poured from their hands into the woman, halting the wrinkling of her arm, and after almost a minute of continuous chanting, her complexion began to recover.
Her arm, however, remained wrinkled.
The crowd, witnessing the rumours and hearsay come to life before them, shrank back in fear.
"S-s-she grew older!"
"The witch cursed her just by touch!"
"Kill her before she kills us all!"
"She’s cursed!"
"Burn her!"
"Burn the witch!"
No one knew who started it, but eventually, the shocked and terrified crowd began to chant loudly.
"""BURN THE WITCH!"""
The chants were accompanied by stoning, with people throwing everything from rotten eggs and fruit to stones.
The knights immediately shouted for them to stop as they tried to block the projectiles with their shields, but the mob didn’t relent.
More stones struck the blindfolded figure, one hitting the side of their head, tearing the skin and sending blood splattering onto the back of the knight standing in front of them.
"Arg!"
The knight screamed reflexively in pain, his hand going to the back of his neck where steam hissed from his skin.
At the sight, the expressions of the other knights darkened, and without hesitation, they drew their swords. The display of weapons instantly silenced the screaming crowd, making them drop everything they were about to throw.
A frowning priest rushed to the knight and cast a healing blessing on the back of his neck, which had turned bright red as if scalded and was rapidly spreading after being splashed with the blindfolded figure’s blood.
It was then that someone noticed liquid dripping from the forehead of the blindfolded figure, and with a fearful voice, they shouted.
"The witch’s blood...isn’t red!"
The exclamation drew more eyes to the thick, syrupy silver liquid dripping in place of red, and the crowd’s fear rose another notch at the unfamiliar sight.
The crowd began chanting louder as the procession moved on, but out of fear of angering the knights, no stones were thrown, and it continued toward the centre with little resistance.
The crowd followed, circling the pole in the centre where the blindfolded figure was chained to a raised platform.
The knights formed a perimeter around it, and the priests climbed the platform as well, ignoring the silent tears slipping from beneath the blindfold while the one adorned with the most ornaments began to speak.
"People of this land, behold the abomination before you.
It walks in human form, but it is no kin of man. Its very presence corrupts, its touch withers, its existence blasphemes against the gods themselves!
For too long it has been hidden among us, but no longer. Today, under the eyes of the divine, we cleanse our world of this devil’s stain. Today, we burn the curse away!"
The priest’s words spread like fire, feeding the fear already simmering in the gathered crowd, and within moments the whispers swelled into cries.
"Burn it!"
"Cleanse the devil!"
The chants grew louder, frenzied, the crowd stomping their feet, fists raised, some hurling curses while others pointed trembling fingers at the chained figure.
Mothers pulled their children closer, hawkers dropped their baskets, and still no one left. Every eye was fixed on the figure bound in chains, trembling as the noise pressed in from all sides.
"Burn the witch!"
The words rolled together in a wave of frenzy, a storm of fear and hatred threatening to swallow the blindfolded figure whole.
"""BURN THE WITCH!"""
"""BURN TH—"
|What the fuck is this bullshit?|
The sudden voice rang in the heads and ears of everyone present, an overwhelming pressure crashing down on the entire town as all who heard it fell to their knees, clutching their heads in pain.
The priests and knights all screamed viscerally as the pressure seemed to try and split their skulls open, several clawing at their heads and eyes while crying out with the same terror they had been attempting to instil only moments before.
Before the Authority-imbued True Voice of an Intermediate-Stage Mid-Tier Deity, these mortals, the strongest among them a Master Realm Existence, were no different from leaves in a cyclone, weak enough to be shredded to pieces with ease.
Their souls obviously couldn’t endure it, not when the emotions bubbling from the speaker’s chest were nothing but ’Disappointment’ and ’Inexplicable Anger’.
A fierce gust of wind swept through, throwing the screaming priests off the platform and ripping the blindfold from the chained figure, revealing a face as youthful as their small stature suggested.
[!]
|She’s just a child!|
Once again, that True Voice thundered without regard for the minds or souls of the mortals, who were on the verge of passing out from merely hearing it, the speaker too incensed to notice the silent shock of his Ego Weapon at the face revealed behind the blindfold.
The frightened eyes of the young girl chained to the stake darted around, shocked and confused at the sight of everyone suddenly writhing in obvious agony.
Agony she couldn’t comprehend, as the True Voice responsible had no effect on her at all.
Eventually, she noticed the shadow before her and lifted her gaze, her obsidian eyes meeting the equally dark pupils of the silver-haired man floating in the air with a frown.
Suddenly, everything went silent.
The sudden absence of sound confused her, and she looked around, eyes widening as she realised everyone and everything had frozen in place.
From the people clutching their heads to those trying to crawl or run, and even the birds in the sky, all were completely still.
Her eyes, red from crying, returned to the only being her mind could conclude was responsible, and trembling, her lips parted.
"...a-are y-y-you a g-god?"
At the question, the man raised an eyebrow, his frown giving way to a brief look of surprise. Then he sighed, descending onto the platform as he spoke.
"No, child. I’m not a god. I’m the farthest thing from the gods."
He stepped closer, reaching a hand toward her head, making her flinch instinctively in fear.
"I’m a being born with the power to kill them," he said. "Just like you."
Seeing his finger approach, she shook her head and tried to inch away, crying out,
"N-no! Don’t t-touch me! The curse would—!"
Her words cut off as he gently touched her head, his thumb brushing the blood from the wound caused by the stone earlier.
Silence fell for a moment as the girl blinked repeatedly in surprise, realising he didn’t instantly collapse or wither away.
Then the man spoke.
"Curse, you say?"
Clicking his tongue, he added, "What you have is no curse, child. It’s simply a manifestation of your uncontrolled power."
With a single sigh, Arthur snapped his fingers, and the chains binding her turned to dust under his destruction.
With the restraints gone, the girl’s weakened legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her knees, wincing slightly at the impact.
Then, recalling the words spoken to her, she slowly muttered in a strained voice,
"...p-power? to ki-killl...g-gods?"
Her eyes seemed to question the sanity of what had been said, but she received no answer.
Arthur only sighed again, lifting his hand from her head and examining the blood on his thumb as he thought to himself.
’She’s definitely an Ancient Breed godslayer.’
[That she is, Master,] Celestia responded.
’She possesses a deep reserve of Anti-Divinity.’
[That she does, Master,] Celestia responded.
’She bleeds silver.’
[...]
Celestia didn’t respond.
Arthur silently rubbed his thumb and index finger, feeling the texture of the blood between them before repeating his words internally.
’She bleeds silver.’
Finally, Celestia spoke.
[That...she does, Master.]
Arthur turned his gaze back to the fearful eyes of the girl before him.
Her skin was sickly pale, her black hair cut roughly and unevenly, some strands reaching her shoulders while others stopped just below her ears.
Traces of childishness lingered in her facial features, but her most notable feature was her eyes.
Cross-shaped white pupils glowed faintly at the centre of obsidian irises, unmistakable marks that set her apart as anything but ’normal’, and undeniable proof for those who sought to brand her as ’inhuman’.
With his Authority of Time, Arthur could instantly scan and confirm how long she had ’existed’, which by the Draco Sirus Calendar, was exactly 15 years and 4 days.
It was a time period that made Arthur frown because of what had happened exactly 15 years and 4 days ago.
A conjecture formed in his mind, but Arthur didn’t want to rush to a conclusion without confirming one last thing, even though every instinct he had pointed to the obvious answer.
He slowly crouched to her eye level, and the girl flinched, trying to inch as far away from him as possible, her eyes shifting from Arthur’s face to his hands stained with her blood, to the frozen crowd, her arms trembling lightly.
’I really should have learnt Serenity Inducement Magic...’
That thought crossed Arthur’s mind as he wore a small, disarming smile and asked,
"Tell me, child. What’s your name?"
The girl didn’t answer immediately. She just stared at him, arms and eyes trembling, and Arthur didn’t push for a response.
He waited in silence until she finally found her voice, silent tears streaming from the corners of her eyes as she choked out a word.
"e...l-la... El..aine..."
The name she spoke made Arthur sigh for the third time, a wry smile forming on his face as he thought to himself.
’Well, well, well. Hello ’Death’, my old friend.’
