---

As Odilia glared at the man with a mix of astonishment and rage, he shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “What’s the problem?”

“As you can see, this is the hammer used for judging witches. You understand, right?”

With his words, the book in her hand opened on its own. Pages began to flap wildly as if caught in a fierce wind, making it seem as if an invisible entity was rapidly searching for a particular passage. Without even realizing it, the Great Witch had to throw the book onto the table.

Yet, the book didn’t bounce away or close; it continued to flip its pages exactly as it had been held in her hands, and eventually, it came to a halt on a blank page.

A blank page isn’t truly empty; it’s merely the preparatory stage for something to be written.

On the white, translucent pages, black ink began to slither into place, forming a haphazardly scrawled Latin sentence as if hastily written with a quill.

Unconsciously, the Great Witch began to read the passage aloud.

“In the name of God….”

A radiant light burst forth from the book.

It looked endlessly like sunlight. However, instead of warmth, it radiated an insatiable heat, briefly forming the shape of a cross before dispersing like fog. The scattered light stuck to the café’s walls, creating a barrier.

And as the barrier formed, the café’s appearance suddenly began to change.

The guests who had just been there shattered into pieces, becoming insects that adhered to the ceiling of the café.

The staff turned into expressionless mannequins.

The once bright and cheerful atmosphere of the café transformed into a gloomy, damp place, reminiscent of a haunted house, with stains marring its previously pristine surfaces.

The fragrant aroma of coffee turned into a pungent moldy smell, and the windows, which once offered a view, were coated in something black, turning them into mirrors.

A sealed room.

The café became a sealed room.

A sanctuary where no one could enter and no one could leave.

“Maleficos non patieris vivere.”

The man spoke, picking up the book like a priest.

He resembled a pastor giving a sermon.

So devout, so believable.

It was unbearable for the believers listening to that sermon not to chant along.

[ The Lord has spoken! ]

[ You shall not spare the maleficus! ]

The mannequins screamed.

Stretching one arm upward as if alive, the faceless mannequins drew bugs on their empty faces, crafting ears and mouths to scream. With each shout from the mannequins, the insects clinging to their mouths shifted and changed, and a bizarre voice, created from the fluttering of the insects’ wings, reverberated throughout the café.

“What is a maleficus!”

[ It is those who defy God! ]

[ They are those who commune with idols, offer rituals to idols, and worship idols! ]

The shadow stretched long along the wall responded.

Using the feeble light of the flickering bulb as its root, the shadow moved its formless body, creating a mouth and ears, shaking as it spoke.

Words were heard not with ears but with the soul.

That ominous and heavy will, communicated through shadows, clearly reached the man and the Great Witch.

“Those who seek to plunge people into spiritual ignorance. Idolatrous worshippers who distance themselves from God. Terrible beings that stain everyone with sin. Their secrets are evil, leading to others’ wickedness and sowing harm along the path of progression, making all people wretched. God calls them an evil witch.”

The man shouted.

“You must not spare the evil witch (Maleficos non patieris vivere)!”

[ Maleficos non patieris vivere! ]

[ Maleficos non patieris vivere! ]

[ Maleficos non patieris vivere! ]

In response to the man’s words, voices began to echo from various corners of the café.

Evil spirits surged forth from the tables, dancing grotesquely as they chorused, while shadows resembling humans swayed against the wall and the faceless mannequins shouted with mouths drawn by insects.

“Only the innocent must not be harmed, for there must be an order to this!”

The man grasped at the air.

A small wooden hammer that had been adorning the café suddenly fit into his hand.

“Here, in the name of God, I start the trial. No wickedness shall enter this place!”

[ Holy trial! ]

[ Holy trial! ]

“You mad holy sorcerer!”

Odilia fumed with rage.

She sprang to her feet, grabbed her handbag, and summoned an immense power flowing beneath her skin. A scent filled with pheromones emanated from her sweat glands, while her body temperature surged, causing her to flush red.

Her heart, usually calm, began to thump wildly, and as blood circulated through her body, it heightened her life force.

Yes.

Life force.

The power witches utilize in witchcraft is indeed life force.

The essence all living creatures possess.

The force that determines a person’s health and lifespan.

And, the power that allows miracles to manifest in the world through transformation.

“Dare you attempt to attack me?! Do you think creating a barrier like this can kill me?”

Odilia screamed with rage, her voice so sharp and atrocious it felt like it could tear through ears and scramble brains.

Yet, the man stood there, seemingly unfazed by her life force rising and her fury erupting, gazing at her calmly.

No, not just calmly—he was sending her a friendly look.

“Hahaha. I have no intention of attacking you.”

The man’s demeanor shifted.

From that of an innocent, youthful boy to that of a man whose seen all of life’s trials and tribulations, the atmosphere that had once been pure and clear like fresh water turned into a deep, dark swamp where one could barely guess what lurked within.

Nothing about his face, clothes, or body changed—only the ambiance shifted.

But that changed atmosphere felt so out of place.

So much so that Odilia couldn’t help but forget her anger and stared at the man.

“Then withdraw your life force and sit down.”

The man spoke calmly to Odilia, who gazed at him in a daze.

His tone was so serene.

As if he were convinced that she wouldn’t dare to harm him, just a hair’s breadth away.

Or perhaps, he might be thinking that she simply couldn’t harm him at all.

That demeanor was enough to provoke Odilia, who had temporarily lost her senses from the shock, making her feel the flames of anger reignite as she glared at him who was now seated.

The man looked directly at her, holding the book, seeming unfazed by her deadly glare.

“Come on, withdraw your life force.”

A gaze that clearly loomed from above looking down.

Words that felt infinitely closer to a command than a request.

Odilia, bursting with rage at his arrogant demeanor, unleashed her witchcraft.

“A mere holy sorcerer!”

Where life force and will combine, miracles can manifest.

The witchcraft she invoked seeped into the man’s chair and table.

The power that flowed would twist the table and chair into monstrous forms, turning them into her loyal minions to devour him.

Yes.

She must devour him.

“…You.”

“Why, what’s not working?”

The man laughed mockingly.

That sneer bore a resemblance to how the Great Witch had looked at him earlier.

 

---