Ileon Gredrick was imprisoned in a dark underground dungeon, the only light to secure his vision coming from torches hanging on the walls.

Heavy restraints were fastened to his arms and legs.

Every time he moved, the pain from the punch to his face made Ileon furrow his brows tightly.

“I remember getting beaten by Dietrich and passing out….”

Ileon’s gaze landed on the knight standing outside the iron bars.

The knight, with graying hair and a sturdy build, was Anderson, Dietrich’s adjutant.

“How dare you conspire rebellion?”

In response to Ileon’s words, Anderson replied with a calm expression.

“It is you who committed treason, not me—killing members of the imperial family and then attempting to pin all the blame on His Grace, Duke Calypso.”

“……Haha! Ahahaha!”

Ileon threw his head back and laughed wildly.

“So, did you kill all my subordinates too?”

“There will not remain a single one of your followers in this land. Give up. Your era has ended.”

At Anderson’s words, Ileon shook his head slowly from side to side.

“Do you even know who it is you’re serving?”

Ileon’s blue eyes narrowed sharply.

Despite the dark bruises covering his face, an eerie light flickered in his blue irises.

“He is not of Abelon. He has no intention of rebelling. He merely wishes to burn everything in Abelon to ashes.”

Anderson glared fiercely at Ileon inside the cell.

“How dare you attempt to sow discord, after all the years I’ve served His Grace?”

“Discord? I merely spoke the truth.”

“Do you have any idea how many have died because of your treacherous tongue? I never liked Duke Gredrick from the beginning.”

Anderson made no effort to hide his anger toward Ileon.

“When you conducted rituals at the ruined Grand Temple, one of the children you used as a sacrifice and discarded was my nephew. He was only seven years old. To brainwash such a young child and use him as a ritual executioner for prophecy, then cast him aside!”

Ileon’s eyes narrowed.

He had used and discarded so many as executioners for prophecy that he could no longer remember who was who.

He had thought they were all orphans with no family, but now it seemed even lost children wandering the streets had been included among the victims.

Of course, this was of no concern to Ileon.

The Grand Temple had been consumed by flames and vanished, and the altar where rituals were held to hear prophecies had turned to ashes.

“……Even in the world of animals, it is natural for the strong beast to hunt and devour the weaker one.”

Not a trace of guilt could be heard in Ileon’s voice.

“Are you insulting me, who provided food and clothing to the homeless and delivered them into the arms of the divine?”

Anderson’s eyes trembled slightly as he looked at Ileon, who showed no sign of remorse.

“By giving purpose to worthless beings, those who died surely felt gratitude toward me.”

Ileon twisted his lips into a smile.

“I will watch your miserable end very closely.”

“Sir, my subordinates are everywhere. Not just in this capital, but spread throughout all of Abelon.”

Ileon raised his chin as he looked at Anderson’s contorted face.

“Do you truly believe I, as Emperor, would have made no preparations?”

“…….”

“We shall see who meets a miserable end—blind knight, who does not even know the one you serve.”

Dark storm clouds hung low in the sky as a few scattered raindrops began to fall.

Plink.

As the raindrops gradually grew heavier, soon a torrential downpour poured down, making it difficult to see ahead.

Whoosh—

A group of people gathered beneath a large, towering tree looked up simultaneously at the sky, which seemed to have split open.

“T-this is the tears of the divine! The gods are weeping!”

A man, drenched by the rain, shouted with a face twisted by fanaticism.

“Announce it to all! Our great deity truly desires the downfall of Abelon’s witch!”

“The witch! This is all because of the witch!”

“Let us judge the witch ourselves, the one who lures men with her beauty and devours them!”

The man raised both hands high as he shouted passionately.

“Before more sacrifices occur, drag the witch out from the palace and bring judgment!”

The moment those words left his mouth, a thunderbolt crashed down onto the large, leafy tree with a loud crack!

Crackle—

The massive tree, thick with foliage, split cleanly in half from the lightning strike.

Green leaves rained down heavily, covering the man’s entire body.

“……Huh?”

Along with an old man’s startled voice, the split tree wobbled unsteadily.

Then—thud!—it collapsed forward.

The onlookers fell silent as if a mouse had died.

The tilting tree had fallen precisely on the man who had been delivering his fiery speech.

Blood poured continuously from beneath the massive trunk, mixing with the rainwater on the ground.

“Aaaah!”

“What—what is this?!”

Unable to believe their eyes, the people screamed in terror.

“He was struck by lightning and died instantly!”

“This must be the witch’s curse….”

“We must bind the witch to the pyre and light the fire at once!”

Through the pouring rain, angry voices rose from the crowd.

As the mood intensified, a woman who had remained silent until now cautiously spoke up, her brow furrowed.

“…Actually, could this not be a sign from the divine that she is *not* the witch?”

“What do you mean?”

“The man who was shouting that she *is* the witch is the one who just died. Could it be that the gods struck him with lightning to show she is *not* the witch?”

All eyes at the scene turned toward her.

The woman, dressed in a maid’s uniform with both hands neatly clasped, was Lisa, Hariel Brillion’s maid—who had long watched over Celia Brillion but never dared to help, and had carried guilt over it ever since.

Hariel Brillion, who never imagined her own maid would take Celia’s side, glared at Lisa as if she wanted to kill her.

Hariel shoved Lisa hard in the shoulder and shouted in fury.

“In fact, I’ve seen it myself! My adopted daughter Celia engages in strange acts every night!”

At her words, the crowd erupted into murmurs.

Unaware that their soaked clothes clung tightly to their bodies from the sudden downpour, people stood agape, waiting for Hariel to continue.

“I’ve seen it with my own two eyes—every night, she brings strange men in and drains their vitality completely! Though I raised her with no blood tie and gave her everything, in truth, she was a witch all along.”

Hariel spewed lie after lie with a thick, unflinching face.

“So you’re saying you’re now publicly accusing her of being a witch?! Are you not also her accomplice?!”

An elderly man in formal attire rebuked her, and Hariel shrieked back.

“At the time, I knew nothing! I am a victim too! Had I known Celia was a witch, I would never have allowed her into my household!”

Hariel, who still remembered the humiliation of being chased away from Dietrich’s mansion like a stray dog, had refused to return to her estate even after running out of money.

Instead, she had written a letter to Lisa, the maid at the viscount’s manor, instructing her to bring money to the capital—and had been living extravagantly, spending Lisa’s money recklessly to relieve her stress.

Then, when rumors began circulating that Celia was a witch, she thought, *Perfect*.

“I’ve seen it too.”

Gabriel Brillion, standing beside Hariel, added her voice.

“My sister Celia brings strange men in every night and drains their vitality.”

“!”

“At first, I couldn’t believe it. I thought I must have been mistaken. But doesn’t the current situation speak for itself? Three members of the imperial family have died one after another, and Her Grace’s lover, Duke Calypso, has been stripped of his title and imprisoned.”

Gabriel deliberately lowered her head, feigning sorrow.

The red dress clung tightly to her body from the rain, revealing her full figure clearly.

The Adam’s apples of visually weak men twitched repeatedly.

Though her face was plain, her sensual body was strikingly attractive.

“I never thought Celia would do such a thing. I treated her so well—how could she deceive us and commit such treachery…!”

Gabriel trailed off emotionally, bringing both hands to her face.

As Gabriel heaved her shoulders with what sounded like sobbing, someone shouted.

“D-don’t cry!”

“Let us defeat the witch—the evil witch! So please, don’t cry.”

In truth, Gabriel wasn’t crying—she was laughing.

Her rain-soaked face gleamed with a sinister light.

“Should we bind her to the pyre and set it ablaze? If she’s truly a witch, she won’t be able to escape even when fire is lit.”

At Hariel’s suggestion, a few men exchanged glances.

These men had no intention of killing Celia.

They were the ones who had incited the crowd against her, but only because they wanted to seize her from the palace and possess her for themselves.

“That might be….”

When one man hesitated, Hariel glared fiercely and said:

“Then how do you propose to judge the witch? If she screams in agony while burning, proving she is human, you can take her out then. It won’t be too late.”

Most of the crowd nodded in agreement at Hariel’s words, murmuring, “Yes, yes, that’s right.”

“We will pass judgment with our own hands. Drag her from the palace and place her on the pyre!”

At the moment Hariel shouted this, footsteps cutting through the heavy rain could be heard.

Splish, splash.

The man holding a black umbrella had a face obscured by the rain, impossible to see clearly.

Yet his build, hidden beneath the umbrella, was threatening at a single glance.

With what seemed like armor underneath, a metallic clinking sound accompanied each of his steps.

His pace, neither fast nor slow, came to a sudden stop before the crowd.

“…Who is judging whom?”

The man’s voice was so low it seemed to rise from the depths of an abyss.

Everyone present fell silent at once, overwhelmed by his presence.