Chapter 7: The Purifying Flames

The atmosphere in the square abruptly shifted with the Pope’s arrival.

His Holiness, who rarely made public appearances, had personally stepped forward to punish the witch. People clasped their hands in prayer, their gazes fixed on the large crucifix adorning his neck.

Some even wept, lifting their faces to the sky, begging for punishment for having been momentarily swayed by the witch’s allure.

“You consorted with the demon Ranesh and shook the very pillars of the Holy Empire.”

Ludwig unfurled the holy scripture, his voice rising in volume. Imbued with divine power, his words carried far and wide, requiring no amplification.

“You donned a human guise to tempt men and cloud their minds; you disrupted the order of the imperial palace, seeking to harm His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor, the pinnacle of the Holy Empire and the most beloved son of the Lord God. Do you confess your sins?”

‘What nonsense are they spouting? I’m not even a witch to begin with, so how could I have tempted and harmed the Emperor?’

‘By that logic, wasn’t Alix, who seduced me and drained my blood, the true devil?’ Had she possessed even an ounce of strength, she would have retorted, but facing death, such energy simply wouldn’t surface.

As if deaf to the Pope’s menacing voice, Selonia stood motionless, her gaze fixed straight ahead. When no response came, a ripple of unrest stirred among the gathered crowd.

“Confess your sins!”

“Evil witch!”

“Repent! Repent!”

‘Repent? Of what, exactly?’ A bitter laugh threatened to escape her, yet her body, utterly devoid of strength, wouldn’t even allow her lips to curve into a smile.

Selonia stared blankly at the crowd, absorbing their accusations without a flicker of reaction.

‘If only she had truly been a sorceress, a witch who wielded magic, she would never have suffered such an unjust accusation.’

‘No, in this very moment, she almost wished the Grand Cathedral’s verdict had been true, that she truly was a witch.’

‘Then she could have unleashed her magic, burned the Imperial Palace to ashes, and brought the Grand Cathedral crashing down.’

‘She would have ripped open the belly of the man who deceived and betrayed her, making him bleed as much as she had been deprived.’ ‘Only then, even if consumed by flames, would she have found a sense of release.’

A wave of nausea surged through her as she recalled the golden eyes of the man who had failed to conceal his desires for her, even until the very end. Selonia painstakingly managed to turn her stiff neck.

If the Pope himself was presiding over a witch’s execution, the Emperor would undoubtedly be in attendance.

Her eyes, the color of a winter lake, easily found the man who had betrayed her. Alix was seated on the terrace of a tall building, flanked by his guards.

Though Pope Ludwig continued to meticulously enumerate her sins beside her, Selonia heard not a single word.

Her attention was entirely consumed by Vanessa Bernac, who was seated next to Alix, his expression chillingly devoid of emotion.

Vanessa was beaming, whispering something into his ear with an air of immense delight.

Alix, who had been idly nodding at Vanessa’s words, his gaze shifted towards Selonia’s face. As if sensing her stare, his eyes widened perceptibly.

Alix abruptly rose from his seat, and at the exact moment she averted her gaze, the Pope raised both arms high, pronouncing her ultimate fate.

“Even though the crimes of attempting to subvert the Empire have been fully exposed, your refusal to acknowledge them only further proves their truth.”

“Yet, the Lord God, in His boundless grace, offers salvation even to such evildoers, embracing them willingly.”

“Therefore, in the name of the Holy Church and the Empire, I condemn Selonia Brienne, the witch, to the purifying flames!”

The instant the words “purifying flames” left his lips, the same phrase spread like wildfire through the crowd. Grace, salvation, purification. Cruelty was diluted, cloaked in sacred words.

The fervent prayers of the frenzied crowd swelled in volume.

“Descendant of the evil god! Be saved by the purifying flames!”

From somewhere in the front row, a boy’s voice rang out. A moment later, a pebble, flung with force, landed with a dull thud at her feet and rolled away.

As she stared at the stone with vacant eyes, the Holy Knights approached and began to bind her to the stake.

The rough ropes, once freed from her wrists, now encircled her waist and upper torso. Her arms were crossed behind her back, her bleeding wrists secured even more firmly than before.

“Do not muzzle her. The louder her screams, the higher they will reach the Lord God.”

‘At the Pope’s words, Selonia wanted to let out a hollow laugh.’ ‘Reach the Lord God?’

‘He merely intended to let the people hear her screams of agony, to entertain them.’ ‘It was a display of cruelty, meant to instill fear and vigilance against witches.’

‘Were all the witches ever captured and burned at the stake innocent women, just like her?’ Selonia felt a strange certainty that it was so.

‘If so, who were the true devils?’ ‘Was it the innocent women dying without cause, or the Grand Cathedral and the Imperial Family, who repeatedly framed them and inflicted cruel punishments?’

As her thoughts continued, those who had bound her stepped back. Priests encircled her, beginning to chant prayers.

The low, monotonous rhythm drifted on the wind and spread downwards, prompting the people gathered in the square to join in the chanting, one by one.

“We shall now proceed with the execution by fire.”

One of the chanting priests approached and spoke. A symbol of an eye intertwined with chains gleamed on his chest—the mark of an Inquisitor.

“Do you have any last words, witch?”

‘She had many words to say.’ ‘Yet, upon being dragged here, she had resolved not to utter a single word that might please them.’

‘She would not grant them the slightest hint of the pleas, despair, screams, or sobs they so eagerly anticipated.’

Receiving no answer, the Inquisitor nodded as if understanding, and reached behind him. A Holy Knight handed him a piece of wood wrapped in oil-soaked cloth.

As the Inquisitor’s hand brushed it, the end of the wooden torch instantly burst into roaring flames.

“In the name of Ardiel, purify the witch!”

In his cries invoking God and his eyes filled with conviction, lay an unshakeable belief that he was performing a righteous act. The Inquisitor extended his hand towards the lowest layer of kindling.

Selonia’s eyelids fluttered slowly, sensing her end. To think the last sight she would behold before death was a crowd either cheering or condemning her. A hollow laugh threatened to escape her.

‘What reaction would they show if they ever learned of her innocence?’ ‘In truth, her guilt or innocence might not matter to them at all.’

‘Their faith could only remain steadfast if they firmly believed the woman before them was indeed a witch, disrupting the Empire’s order.’

She lifted her head, staring blankly beyond the crowd. In that instant, a figure she never expected to see here appeared, albeit faintly.

‘……Kylos?’

Before she could question if she’d seen wrong, his face grew clearer and clearer. Not far away, Grand Duke Lahardian was pushing through the crowd, making his way towards her.

‘Had he rushed here?’ Despite the biting cold, he wore only a half-unbuttoned shirt.

His raven-black hair, stark against the white snow that had just begun to fall, swayed with his every movement.

The purple eyes, emblematic of the Lahardian Grand Ducal family, remained fixed on her, unwavering. Once, she had met his gaze at a very close distance.

Just as then, when she had been captivated by their vast, brilliant radiance like the night sky, Selonia found herself utterly unable to tear her gaze from his eyes.

For his eyes, which usually seemed impossible to decipher, were now stained with an intense light, as if turbulent waves churned within them.

‘Had she ever seen such an expression on the Grand Duke’s face before?’ The crackle of kindling igniting beneath her feet began to reach her ears, yet for a moment, she forgot her dire circumstances, gazing endlessly at his face.

‘Was she mistaken?’ ‘Perhaps, facing death, she was simply seeing things incorrectly.’ For his face was endlessly contorted, seemingly etched with a simultaneous blend of fury, shock, and an inexplicable sorrow and despair.

Her heart lurched, feeling as though it might vomit something out. She couldn’t comprehend it.

According to Alix, he had vehemently insisted on her execution by fire. If so, why was he approaching with such an expression?

‘She wanted to grab him by the collar and demand answers.’ ‘You tried to crush me most cruelly, and you’ve succeeded in burning me alive, so what is with that look in your eyes?’

‘Is this contradictory act meant to mock me?’ Her bloodless lips parted, but no sound emerged. The flames, which had been burning slowly, now began to climb rapidly upwards.

With a whoosh, the cool air rapidly grew scorching hot. A searing pain, as if countless sharp needles were simultaneously piercing her feet, enveloped her.

The extreme heat, contrasting with the cold winter wind, made the situation feel even more brutal.