The flames atop the Candlelight Sanctuary’s great gate unexpectedly went out.

A violent explosion brought down a vast domed building. Shattered stones flew everywhere, and the stench of blood mingled with the smell of gunpowder, assaulting Sherry as she walked down the street.

The injured scholars’ wails were pained and desperate. Their bloodied faces twisted into grimaces, and their eyes—eyes that should have been filled with wisdom—blazed with anger and madness. The thick smoke couldn’t stop them. The few scholars who still had all their limbs rushed into the ruined building and carried out stack after stack of books.

Was this chaos Ackerman had caused?

…What kind of chaos was this? It was plain as day that someone was trying to destroy the Candlelight Sanctuary.

The smoke blocked out the sunlight, lending the Holy Land an eerie, sinister air. The leaves in the trees shook harder and harder, as if someone were deliberately shaking the trunks to make something fall from the branches.

The sticky sound of something soft-bodied crawling grew more frequent. With the flames above the gate extinguished, it was as if something terrible had broken free of its restraints in the Holy Land, coming from the bottomless Abyss into the world of men.

It was a little cold. Sherry pulled her black cloak tighter around herself.

In the middle of the street lay the corpse of a human who wasn’t a scholar.

His eyes were tightly shut, his lips had turned blue, and a faint sword cut marked his neck. Other than that, there wasn’t a drop of blood on him.

He’d been poisoned.

After years of brewing magic potions, Sherry could tell the cause of death at a glance.

Someone must have held a longsword to his neck, trying to pry a secret from him. That was probably what forced him to bite down on the poison capsule in his mouth.

The explosion inside the Holy Land had been a conspiracy, but she didn’t know whether Ackerman was behind it.

Suddenly, a rustling sound—like a snake moving through the grass—slithered into her ears. She hunched her shoulders and felt a little reluctant to go on.

That was enough to tell her that some kind of monster had definitely escaped from the Candlelight Sanctuary. If she kept going, they might attack her.

Everyone knew scholars loved studying monsters. Those lunatics would use any means necessary to capture the bizarre creatures and study the power within them.

And today’s massive explosion was bound to have shattered the cages holding the monsters. Before long, the Candlelight Sanctuary would become their den!

She should hurry up and leave. This wasn’t a place she belonged.

She could always come to the Pope’s abandoned basement another time. There was no need to rush. Even if monsters overran the Holy Land, the Church would find a way to clear them out.

For now, staying alive mattered most.

But just as she made up her mind and turned around, Carlisle came dashing around the corner.

Her heart lurched. She quickly ducked her head and tucked the pink hair sticking out from beneath her hood inside. Then she went over to a scholar kneeling on the ground, crouched down, and placed both hands over his severed arm, using magic to heal the wound.

Hopefully Carlisle wouldn’t notice a low-profile healer like her.

The scholar she was treating seemed to play along. He remained on his knees, staring blankly at the collapsed building, completely unaware that the wound bleeding all over him was gradually closing.

A little greenish slime had gotten on Carlisle’s church robes, and the hem was somewhat torn. He must have been fighting monsters for a while. His expression was especially grave. As he walked, he kept instinctively reaching for his finger, only to stop himself each time he remembered something.

Sherry knew what he was looking for. His ring was on her finger now.

What an unfortunate turn of events. If she could, she’d love to toss him the Golden Sword Scepter and let him fight the monsters himself.

Though she had no idea whether the Golden Sword Scepter could contain ordinary monsters.

To avoid being discovered, she kept her head down and focused on the scholar’s wound, doing her best not to look at Carlisle.

A Witch’s magic could do all sorts of things: divination, spirit-summoning, healing, and more. Aside from direct combat, she could do almost anything.

Put simply, in her Witch form, she was support. When a fight broke out, all she could do was summon spirits and call for backup.

Magic and spells were opposing forces. Whenever she wanted to use magic, her appearance changed into that of a pink-haired Witch. When she used spells instead, she became silver-haired with golden eyes.

Both appearances were really her.

Tap, tap, tap—

Carlisle’s footsteps sounded behind Sherry. Her little hand trembled, and she lowered her head a bit further.

Her mind raced as she thought about how she could escape if he discovered her.

“What exactly happened here?” Carlisle’s question came from behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was asking her.

The scholars were acting strangely. They barely seemed like normal people anymore, but rather a mob of fanatics blindly chasing forbidden knowledge. It was as if the explosion had snapped the taut strings in their minds. Without knowledge, they had no reason to exist in this world.

Scholars like these weren’t capable of answering Carlisle’s question.

“There was an explosion.”

She chose to say something everyone already knew.

“…I know that. I’m asking what this place is for. Why are there so many monsters here?”

“This is where the scholars do their research. As for why there are so many monsters, I don’t know either. I’m just a healer who hurried over when I saw the explosion.”

Then Sherry had a sudden inspiration. Her voice was full of pleading. “A lot of people were caught in the explosion. If they aren’t treated soon, they’ll die. Could I ask you to carry them over here? It’s not easy for me to move around.”

As soon as Carlisle went to carry the injured, she’d make her escape.

“Sorry, the wind’s a little strong. I didn’t catch what you just said.”

Liar. They were in the Holy Land, where the wind was so weak it couldn’t even stir a strand of hair.

“Oh, I said the injured—”

“By the way, why is a healer dressed so… distinctively?” Carlisle cut Sherry off without hesitation. He studied the girl’s black cloak, clearly curious.

“Because… I’m ugly, and I’m afraid I’ll scare the people I’m treating.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Then take off your hood and let me see. I’ve never met anyone that ugly.”

“Have you no manners?”

Sherry knew Carlisle had caught on.

She’d underestimated how clever a Knight of the Round Table could be.

She dodged the incoming scalding purple flames with a quick sidestep, pulled a bottle of white potion from her ring, and smashed it hard against the ground.

Crash—

The glass shattered, and the potion inside sprayed everywhere. Thick smoke billowed up at once, blurring Carlisle’s vision until all he could see was white.

He hurriedly covered his mouth and nose with his left hand to keep from inhaling the white smoke. At the same time, he swung his right hand forcefully. A wind spell took shape in the air, and a violent gust burst from its purple runes, scattering the smoke.

The collapsed building still poured out thick smoke. The scholars who had been crying out sat slumped on the ground. The only thing different from before was that the Witch in the black cloak was gone.

“Sherry!!”

Carlisle’s furious roar rang through the Holy Land. The game of cat and mouse had begun.