Chapter 7 Witch?


Chapter 7 Witch?

Lightning pierced the sky, illuminating Horn's pale face even paler.

He raised his head slightly, and he could see the rain falling from the blade of the sword and falling into his eyes.

The long sword stopped above Horn's head, only a palm away, but it could no longer be cut down.

Siding aside to avoid the direction in which the long sword fell, Horn heard a continuous sound of tiny explosions.

He looked up and saw gray-yellow circular marks of varying sizes appearing on the face of the tall knight, with a depression in the center, like small craters.

A blood-colored pattern like a branch spread on Barnett's skin like a spider web, extending from the collarbone to the forehead.

Struck by lightning?

Although many unjust actions have been punished by Rep, it will not be fulfilled so quickly.

Wait, this is not lightning.

Looking down, Horn saw a pitchfork. The tip of the pitchfork had also melted, leaving only one tine with a white-blue electric arc.

It passed through the knight's fine iron master-level plate armor, passed through the knight's strong flesh, and poked out from the center of the chest.

A huge hole, big enough to fit a fist, was embedded in the knight's chest.

Horn could even see the pitchfork pole on the other side through the hole.

The pampered knight Lord Barnett slowly lowered his head and looked at the pitchfork protruding from his chest in disbelief.

Black smoke curled around the edge of the big hole poked by the pitchfork, filled with the smell of rotten eggs.

The solid steel edge has turned into a molten state with a dark red luster, slowly sliding down the raised breastplate.

This set of dwarf master armor cost me a full 30 gold pounds. Before falling heavily to the ground, Barnett failed to say the last words in his life - a complaint against the quality of dwarf products. .

When Barnett's body landed at his feet, through the smell of meat, Horn finally saw clearly the man holding the pitchfork behind the knight.

"Jeanne..."

For the first time, Horn shouted out this word that was extremely familiar to the original owner but extremely unfamiliar to him.

The long dark hair turned into gilded gold, swaying from side to side at the waist, and the foot-long electric snake danced in the air, making a "sizzling" sound.

The girl named Jeanne is like a statue, with a resolute face and a pitchfork in her hand. The draping silk on her temples moves in a windless manner, resembling the golden-armored Valkyrie in Norn mythology.

Surviving the disaster, Horn's joy was not as great as expected, looking at Jeanne's appearance.

His brows were twitching, and a term that everyone in the empire was familiar with suddenly appeared in his mind.

"Devil, witch, witch!"

I don't know who shouted this word that made everyone present turn pale in horror.

The Witch, the first of the three enemies of Myrcella, is known as the king of evil spirits.

Their tribe consists of only women. They are almost the same as ordinary people at the beginning. At a certain stage of their lives, they suddenly reveal themselves to possess supernatural abilities that are so powerful that they exceed cognition.

As the number one enemy of Myrcella, the witch is the most despised even among many demons and aliens. It is said that just looking at her will increase her sins, let alone touching her.

What led to the murder of Witch Feng Ping was the genetic mental illness among witches. The incidence rate is close to 100%, and if you are not careful, you will lose control and go berserk.

Horn once heard that there was a fallen prince in Norn who once tried to win over a witch in a border town and formed a witch army to regain the throne.

Unfortunately, before he came out of the mountain, he was burned alive by the first witch wife in the harem infighting.

All six thousand people in the town lost their lives in the sea of ​​fire and the witch's loss of control.

Recalling this, Horn took two steps back quietly.

It was only then that Jeanne woke up from a dream. She threw away the half-length pitchfork in her hand as if she had hit a hot potato.

“No, no, I’m not.”

Spreading her hands, Jeanne looked down in disbelief. On her arms, there was a sizzling sound coiled around her at the moment. blue arc.

Looking up at the villagers again, Jeanne glanced across them, but she did not get the kind eyes in the past. Instead, there was a cold look that she had never seen before.

Jeanne became even more panicked. She shook her hands vigorously, trying to shake off the electric lights, but the more anxious she was, the more naughty the electric snakes became and refused to dissipate.

"Witch, go to hell!"

Hiding behind the crowd, an unknown person had the courage to yell, and then a massive amount of curses rang out.

"Have you seen it? She definitely used witchcraft!"

"The devil's lover! The defiled woman!"

"She killed this witch Distinguished knight! ”

To Horn's surprise, the villagers who had previously watched Barnett's evil deeds without saying a word were now jumping on their feet and cursing angrily.

Within the empire, the dislike of witches is a social consensus that transcends race.

In countless stories and literary works, the instigator of trouble in the palace is the witch, the leader of the cult is the witch, and plague, famine and even earthquakes are the curse of the witch.

In the eyes of the people at the bottom, everything is the witch's fault.

This mentality is like the English and French peasants in the sixteenth century who believed that the king's touch could cure scrofula. Maybe Barnett was the one who oppressed them, maybe they were scolded as unclean every day and could only dare to be angry but dare not speak out.

But when the witch who the monks said was "the most sinful" appeared, they became noble again and were able to insult the witch just as they were insulted by others as unclean people.

This is the pride and confidence that Messila taught them.

Standing there palely, Jeanne was at a loss. Aren't these people her family members?

“You, don’t you hate this knight Barnett?”

"I helped you kill him, how...why?"

"Uncle Peak, I am Jeanne, Aunt Alina, look at me, how can I be the devil's lover?" ?”

Aunt Alina took two steps back and hid in the crowd, while Uncle Pick continued to shout and kill as if he didn’t hear it.

Jeanna couldn't believe her eyes.

Three years ago, when old Galal died, Horne "escaped" to Gaobao Town. It was these villagers, these relatives in her heart, who extended a helping hand to her.

Why... it was the same before, why?

"Grandpa Anduo, it's me, Jeanne. After my father passed away, when I was in the most pain, it was you who came to comfort and take care of me every day? I regard you as my own grandfather, have you forgotten? "

Unlike Alina and Peak who retreated, Anduo was furious.

"Witch, don't be slanderous. It's Horn... Master Shengsunzi gave me money and asked me to take care of you. When did I become your grandfather? You slandered me, everyone, she slandered me Ah."

Jeanna's body was a little stiff.

"What? Impossible, impossible." Jeanne murmured, eyes widening, "Then you, did you all receive money?"

No one answered.

In the silence, I don’t know who is muttering in a very small voice:

“Mind your own business every day. If you didn’t have the money sent by Little Galal, who would I'm ignoring you..."

Although the voice was low, Jeanne's senses were extremely sensitive after becoming a witch, so she still heard it.

"So, you are all lying to me?"

As if being hit head-on with a sledgehammer, Jeanne was dizzy.

Although she was a witch, she helped them kill Barnet. How many times had she helped the villagers uphold justice, and how many times had she helped them resist the unreasonable demands of the armed farmers.

Countless times she was embarrassed by armed peasants, countless times she was shouted at and scolded by priests or knights. She should have gained the respect of the villagers.

According to what Jeanna thought, even if they should hesitate, be afraid, be relieved, and finally pretend not to pay attention, let them escape with a wide margin.

The chivalrous knights in the story committed crimes and were let go by the common people in this way.

But now, what did she see?

There is no sadness or reluctance, no regret or hesitation, only hatred and abuse.

Her dream since she was a child is to become what a bard calls a chivalrous knight, guard her hometown, act chivalrously, and protect the people. Even if she can't do it now, then start with small things.

Helping disabled people in the village fetch water, harvest, drive wild boars at the risk of serious injury, work for free, moderate quarrels fairly, help the weak, resist the strong, lend money and even give money to debtors...

After suffering so much and suffering so many sins, what’s the point?

Are the knights in the world like Knight Barnett?

Are the people in this world like the villagers of Moulin Rouge?

“Bang!”

A pebble flew past Jeanne’s ear.

"Go away and die, witch!"

Blood flowed from Jeanne's ears. She looked at the ground and murmured to herself: "What a chivalrous knight! What chivalry! Fake, fake, all of them It’s all fake! Dad is lying to me, you are lying to me, everyone is lying to me!”

The world in front of her trembled, lightning rose from Jeanne’s skin again, and her black hair It turned into gold, but the black eyes turned into red.

A shrill scream came from Jeanne's mouth: "I am not a witch! I am not, I am not! I am not a witch!"

The arc of electricity pierced the sky, and the sky As if in response, the dark clouds in the sky dropped a bolt of lightning that struck directly on the grass not far away.

The burning smell spread to the nostrils, and the person who was still shouting immediately shut up and began to shrink back.

The electric snakes danced, splitting black traces on the ground, and the jays chirped alone in the mist, echoing the wail of the witch's birth.

Under the surging electric light, the hair and fine hairs of the nearby villagers stood on end. They were pushing each other and looked frightened.

“The witch is going crazy!”

“Everyone, run away, the witch is going out of control!”

"What are you afraid of?" An armed farmer stood motionless on the spot, "Don't forget, the holy grandson is still here!"

"Yes, the holy grandson is here, what are you afraid of, witch, you It’s time to die!”

“Oh, I forgot about this. It must be caused by the witch’s curse.”

“Look, look, Master Shengzi wants to hunt the devil. "

Horn bent down and secretly picked up the knight's sword, and was about to run away into the forest when he suddenly stopped.

Horn struggled to hold the sword in his hand. With an expressionless expression, he slowly turned around, just in time to see Jeanne who also turned to look at him.

ps Regarding the specific situation of British and French farmers from the Middle Ages to modern times who believed that the king’s touch could cure scrofula, see "The Miracles of Kings: A Study of the So-called Supernaturalness of British and French Royal Powers"

 
< br> 

(End of this chapter)

Previous Details Next