The good-hearted ones' rage is often very frightening. Back in the days when she road the netherworld, Dorothy's first murder was carried out under the hands-on guidance of Adam, targeting a band of despicable human traffickers.
At that ti, the inexperienced hobody witch accidentally turned the human trafficker leader into a ss of tomato ketchup with a single punch, and then got herself splashed with the flying ketchup.
Back then, Dorothy thought that this holy Father, who couldn't bear the sight of blood, would bla her, and would start nagging in her ear about how killing is wrong and one must be kind, all those useless things.
But unexpectedly, Adam at the ti, with no emotion, simply wiped her face and then said,
"You're a girl and a witch mage, and it's really unladylike to get your hands dirty like this. You should be more elegant."
He then personally taught the young hobody witch a lesson, which left Dorothy utterly stunned.
After all, who would have thought that the man who usually finds the blood of a slaughtered chicken too dirty would suddenly turn into a frenzied killer.
Anyhow, the hobody witch watched as Adam just pointed his finger casually, and those hundreds of human traffickers suddenly started convulsing and wailing, followed by flowers of blood blooming from inside their bodies, transforming them into a field of flowers, rapidly absorbing their life force as fertilizer, and in the end, not a bone or flesh was left on the spot, only a sea of bloody flowers covered the ground.
Then Adam gently patted the astonished Dorothy on the shoulder, and in her bewildered gaze, he turned the tomato ketchup that had splashed all over her into a blood flower on the ground, just like the others.
It was indeed very elegant, very mage-like, and even sowhat artistic, but to be honest, wasn't this kind of twisted?
Afterwards, for several days, Dorothy even began to doubt whether her own father was suffering from so sort of split personality disorder, preaching truth, goodness, and beauty one mont and then turning into an artistic killer the next. Are you putting on a two-faced act?
Fortunately, during their subsequent wanderings, the hobody witch slowly ca to understand this "father" of hers. Although he was usually a good-hearted man, he was truly decisive when facing evil. He never showed rcy to those who deserved to die, killing without hesitation, not babbling about turning back from one's wicked ways.
Dorothy was quite satisfied with this.
"Father, you had already made up your mind, hadn't you?"
Faced with her "father's" counter-question, Dorothy laughed, her face partially obscured by a veil, but from her peach-blossom eyes, one could clearly see the smile.
Adam laughed in response to her answer, heaved a sigh of relief, and then looked up to et his daughter's gaze.
"Then you better be prepared, Dorothy. Our days on the run will not be easy."
The middle-aged priest said so.
At this, the hobody witch shrugged her shoulders.
"A life of hardship is better than a conscience tornted, isn't it?"
It wasn't her first ti wandering with her father anyway; what's done once will be done more easily a second ti.
Although Dorothy regretted that she could no longer continue to laze around, just as she had said, compared to a life of ease but plagued with guilt, she sought a clear conscience.
She certainly wasn't going to be the one to light that fire, and although this probably ant the Divine King would not awaken, the hobody witch didn't know how she would face the Angels that would inevitably co without the power of the witches, now that the "plot had collapsed".
But if she couldn't handle it, then so be it; this wasn't reality after all, it was just the Witch's Night festival, a dream of the past for the God King.
If even in a dream, the God King had to go through that pain again, wouldn't that be too miserable for him?
The God King had suffered enough and had already saved the Witch World once; her mission was completed more than a hundred thousand years ago, and she had suffered plenty. At least in this dream, she deserved a bit of rest.
That was what the hobody witch thought to herself.
Of course, the most important reason was that she could never accept the idea of sacrificing her family for her own safety.
Since she had randomly ended up as the God King's childhood sweetheart, a special identity, fate had been sealed, and no one could harm her family in front of her before her death.
"Tch, I feel a bit sorry for Sophia, though. I had promised to help her win this festival and secure the prize she wanted, but now it looks like I'm likely to be the one sacrificed."
Dorothy scratched her head, thinking sowhat guiltily.
"Dorothy, the consecration ceremony is ready. You can go light the fire. Rest assured, I definitely won't forget to apply for recognition for you and Father Adam for executing this witch. My father is an archbishop, you can trust to handle this."
Just as the hobody witch was making up her mind, a blundering fool had just perfectly tid his entrance.
He was a man with sowhat handso features, dressed in flamboyantly shining silver armor, a knight's sword hanging from his waist, looking like a paladin.
This was the source of all evil for the current affair, that church prodigy and witch hunter, Gray, who had accused Denisha of being a witch.
Originally, this well-born witch hunter had regretted not making use of the shepherdess who preferred death over submission to him—it was a waste to burn such a beauty directly.
User Comments
0 comments from readers