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“Hurry! Faster! We’ll be in trouble if someone sees us!”
The ‘old coachman’ who had been driving the carriage now hoisted an unconscious Inquisitor onto it. Inside, a masked young man silently received the body, then began stripping the Inquisitor’s grey robes and iron mask.
“Don’t be so nervous, Old Sheep. We have a witch who can foresee the future on our side,” the Mad Hatter said with a chuckle, also masked and disguised as a wealthy merchant.
“Less talk, more work! Don’t just stand there doing nothing while you babble!” Old Sheep, disguised as the coachman, snapped at the Mad Hatter. “You’re all masked, but I have to show my face. I’m taking such a big risk, and you have the nerve to be lazy?”
“Who told you to lose the draw? Besides, aren’t you wearing makeup and a fake beard?” The Mad Hatter grinned, reaching out to tug at his old friend’s chin hair.
“Bastard! This tuft on my chin is real!” Old Sheep angrily yanked his goatee back.
Given the Mad Hatter’s perpetually eccentric and unrestrained nature, the other members of their group felt no distance from him.
“I swear, can you two be serious for once?” Alice Liddell, her face veiled, panted, clearly out of breath.
She was currently embracing a comatose female Inquisitor, dragging her towards the carriage. Whenever such strenuous physical tasks arose, she lamented the lack of strength in her female body.
“It’s not us! It’s your mentor who has a problem!” Old Sheep retorted, rolling his eyes at the Mad Hatter before taking the female Inquisitor from Alice Liddell and lifting her into the carriage.
“Alright, Miss Liddell, you go up and change first!” For this operation, the Mad Hatter had specifically enlisted Old Sheep and his mute assistant from the shop to help.
Just as the Mad Hatter had predicted, the Church’s execution of Jeanne Decker was to take a compromise form.
The execution itself was to be overseen by the Inquisition.
The Mad Hatter’s plan was for their group to impersonate the Inquisitors on security detail, allowing them to infiltrate Requiem Square where the execution would take place.
Having a thorough understanding of the Inquisition’s squad configurations, the Tea Party had meticulously scouted and selected their infiltration route and plan.
Intermediate Inquisitors were typically Seventh-Tier ‘Bishops,’ ‘Mages,’ or ‘Paladins.’ The grey-robed enforcers, or ‘Junior Inquisitors,’ were mostly Ninth-Tier, with an occasional Eighth-Tier among them.
Old Sheep, a Seventh-Tier ‘Warlock’ from the Abyss, along with the Mad Hatter, a ‘Lord of the Abyss,’ and Alice Liddell, also a ‘Warlock,’ possessed sufficient power to swiftly subdue an Inquisitor squad.
Alice Liddell vaguely sensed that the mute assistant from Old Sheep’s shop, who was accompanying them, also seemed to be a blessed individual of some class, though they appeared to lack obvious combat abilities.
Inside the carriage, they changed into the Inquisitors’ masks and robes, also pilfering the identification documents used by the Inquisitors to prove their identities.
“Ah, it’s a good thing Inquisitors usually don’t show their faces when working, and even their masks disguise their voices. It’s perfectly suited for outsiders to blend in and cause trouble,” the Mad Hatter commented, now dressed in an enforcer’s uniform. “Honestly, this getup looks pretty foolish.”
“It’s normal for those who do dirty work not to show their faces. If the Inquisitors’ identities weren’t kept secret, hardly anyone would be willing to do the job! You two hurry up and get things done; leave this place to us.”
Old Sheep, now in an Intermediate Inquisitor’s uniform, finished speaking to the Mad Hatter, then turned to his assistant, who had also changed, and instructed, “Go drive the carriage to a hidden spot and then return.”
“Those Inquisitors won’t wake up midway, will they?” Alice Liddell asked.
“Those whose soul fragments I’ve taken will never regain consciousness if I, Osama, choose not to return them,” the Mad Hatter chuckled smugly. “Can the Inquisition, whom you intend to obstruct, truly stop you?”
“Those whose soul fragments I’ve taken will never regain consciousness if I, Osama, choose not to return them,” the Mad Hatter chuckled smugly. “You’ll carry the soul fragments of these several great gods with you. This will confuse the Middle Bishops’ ability to perceive spirits, especially you, my student; your spirit would be exposed if they tried to perceive it. Though they likely wouldn’t use it on their own people.”
Alice Liddell nodded.
“Time is almost up. Let’s make this quick and give the executioners a big surprise! Hehehe!”
The Mad Hatter glanced at the clock tower in the square, then turned and headed towards the plaza, with Alice Liddell following close behind.
****
At this moment, the prisoner’s carriage arrived at the square from another direction.
Jeanne Decker, shackled, descended from the carriage, supported by enforcers as she was led forward.
At the end of the path stood the execution pyre, piled high with firewood.
During her final days confined in the Iron Prison of Divine Wrath, Jeanne Decker had constantly imagined the day of her execution.
In her imagination, the execution day was always overcast and gloomy, mirroring her suppressed emotions and the dark underbelly of the nation.
However, today was a brilliantly sunny day, not a single cloud in sight. The sunlight shone directly upon her, offering a long-awaited warmth to her body, which had spent over half a month in a cold, damp dungeon.
This was perhaps the only good thing that had happened to her in days.
At the scene, two Senior Inquisitors supervised the execution, accompanied by several enforcers. The enforcers were loosely positioned; some stood guard at various points, while others patrolled.
The security wasn’t particularly strict, merely a larger number of personnel deployed.
The Church’s elaborate display was primarily intended to prevent crowds from gathering and watching, rather than to guard against an attempt to rescue the condemned.
Indeed, few people truly believed Jeanne Decker had significant ties to any heretical organization. It was simply that if the Church court declared her a heretic, then a heretic she must be—a scenario all too familiar to the Inquisitors.
Furthermore, even if Jeanne Decker genuinely had connections to a heretical organization, it was highly improbable they would attempt to rescue her. Considering her limited remaining utility, intervening in an execution supervised by Senior Inquisitors would clearly be an extremely imprudent move.
Jeanne Decker was bound to the execution pyre. An executioner, serving as the final confessor, approached and, following protocol, asked Jeanne Decker, “Criminal, confess your sins. If you do, at least your soul shall be pardoned.”
“I have no sins to confess, nor do I require anyone’s forgiveness,” Jeanne Decker replied calmly.
“You were once a devout Paladin. Do you not value your faith even now?” The executioner persisted with his official persuasion.
“My faith remains unchanged—I firmly believe in the justice within my own heart.”
Jeanne Decker swept her gaze over the executioner. “Many on the tribunal know I am innocent; they are the ones who need confession more.”
The executioner froze, then looked towards the supervisor on site—Prince Kleiman, Deputy Director of the Inquisition.
Kleiman waved his hand, signaling him to step down.
The executioner bowed and retreated.
Kleiman gazed at the distant clock tower, its minute hand laboriously inching towards the hour mark.
These were the last two minutes of Jeanne Decker’s life, yet they did not feel precious; instead, they were agonizingly drawn out.
Bound to the pyre, Jeanne Decker closed her eyes, waiting in silence, until finally, she heard the chiming of the bell.
“Do it, Eve,” Kleiman instructed his subordinate.
“Can’t you… can’t you find someone else to light the fire?” Eve resisted the command with clear reluctance.
“If you do it, you can minimize her suffering,” Kleiman stated.
“Tsk, fine,” Eve grumbled, a frown hidden beneath her mask. Simultaneously, she raised her hand, summoning flames to her palm.
The adventure continues! If you loved this chapter, Transmigrated Into a World With a Wife is a must-read. Click here to start!
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