Chapter 8 Saint!

Holding a half-sword in his hand, Horn stood in the increasingly violent rain and stared at Jeanne quietly.

He clenched the sword in his hand, it felt heavy.

The sword weighed about three pounds, and there was a pale carving of the word "宮" on the guard, and a line of incomprehensible El inscription on it.

This sword is barely enough to deal with wild wolves and dogs in the forest.

But against Jeanna, who seemed like the god of thunder, she was probably just a decoration.

Unless she could stretch her neck and let herself be chopped.

Glancing at the villagers who were still cheering for him, the veins on Horn's forehead throbbed.

Sometimes he really couldn't understand what these people were thinking.
The knight is not easy to deal with, but is the witch easy to deal with?
One knight can bully you so badly, but a witch needs hundreds or even thousands of knights to siege her. Can't you see the difference in strength?

Forcing people from fellow villagers to become fellow villagers, and then making a powerful move on the spot to make everyone happy, are you satisfied?
Horn originally wanted to take the opportunity to escape, but the villagers' shouting exposed him directly to Jeanna's sight.

Not to mention that Horn was nothing in Jeanna's eyes. Even if they really had a relationship, would the violent witch who didn't care about her relatives care?

Horn raised his sword angrily and remembered the faces of those people who were shouting. The saint's grandson is narrow-minded, so just wait and see.

Unable to escape, and unable to defeat the enemy either, Horn searched for a while and could only helplessly use his best skill again - recruiting the enemy.

After pacifying the villagers and the knights, now we have to pacify the witch.

I'm almost becoming a slave to three families.

How should Jeanne be comforted? In the name of the Holy Father? Or by appealing to her emotions or reason?
Looking her straight in the eye, Horn took a small, tentative step forward.

The blood-red glow in Jeanna's eyes suddenly dimmed a bit.

What's going on? A guess came to Horn's mind.

He took another step forward, and the lightning on Jeanna's body suddenly dimmed by half a percent, as if she was avoiding him.

Is it possible...

Taking a deep breath, Horn straightened his body and walked slowly towards Jeanne.

Seeing Horn walking towards her with a sword in hand, Jeanna lost all strength.

She didn't know how to face Horn, the brother she once regarded as vulgar.

When old Galar died three years ago, when she needed support the most, Horn insisted on "escaping" to High Castle City, leaving her alone in the empty hut.

Just like when her biological father died when she was seven years old.

She thought the person who offered a helping hand the second time was Andok, but in fact, it was the second Galar.

Horn did not expose her naive fantasy about Andok. Among countless lies, only his lies were well-intentioned.

Looking at the young man walking forward with a sword in the rain, Jeanna's vision became a little blurry.

For the first time, she discovered that the vulgar and stupid boy was much smarter than she had imagined.

For the first time, she discovered that the simple and honest young man could actually show such a cruel and cold expression.

So indifferent, so distant, as if she was a stranger.

The sword hit a rock, making a slight "ding" sound.

The red in Jeanna's eyes fluctuated violently, and the arcs of electricity on her body jumped more frequently.

"I'm not a witch!"

She screamed and explained subconsciously, hoping very much that she really wasn't.

The half-sword in his hand dropped into the ground, dragging a long groove in the soft mud.

"I'm not a witch!"

Jeanne opened her arms and lightning rushed, charring the bushes, grass and trees beside her and emitting thick black smoke, but not a single bolt of lightning fell on Horn.

Horn paused for a moment, but continued to move forward firmly.

"I'm not a witch."

She kept sniffing and pursing her lips tightly, causing the corners of Jeanna's mouth to tremble occasionally and move downwards, but she forced them up again.

Horn took silent steps until he was only half a step away.

His grey eyes looked down upon Jeanne's face.

"I'm not a witch."

Choking with sobs, Jeanna closed her eyes in despair and relief. Perhaps this was what she deserved?
The lightning that could not be eliminated no matter what suddenly disappeared at this moment.

But after a moment, the expected touch of the cold sword blade did not come, and what touched her body was something sticky instead.

It was the chest under the thin shirt that was wet with rain and stuck to the skin.

She pressed her ear to the skinny chest and could hear the heart beating in the chest, warm and steaming.

Jeanne subconsciously reached out and hugged Horn's waist. "I believe you, Jeanne, you are not a witch."

The whispers in her ears were filled with moist water vapor, which made her nose sore. The tears that had been rolling in her eyes finally fell.

The golden light on the black hair suddenly disappeared, and Jeanna tightly hugged Horn's waist, her body shaking continuously.

She pressed her ear against Horn's chest. It was the warmest and most powerful heartbeat she had ever heard in her life.

At this moment, Horn, who was holding Jeanne, felt his heart pounding so hard that it almost jumped out of his throat.

Holding a time bomb in your arms, who wouldn’t be afraid?
In fact, there was a moment when Jeanna dispersed all the lightning, he really wanted to swing the sword.

But at that moment, Horn discovered something was wrong.

When the Holy Father possessed her before, everyone thought that Jeanne had received the oracle, but they did not believe it, so Horn was possessed by the Holy Father.

In other words, Horn and Jeanne are highly bonded.

Horn is holy, then Jeanne is holy.

Jeanne is holy, so Horn can be holy.

If he killed Jeanne, it would prove that Jeanne was a witch.

When the villagers react, they will find that the witch must be evil, so the knight killed by the witch must be righteous. Then isn't Horn, whom the knight wants to kill, evil?

Everyone has eyes and can see that Jeanna killed the knight to save Horn. Will the devil help the sacred?

Obviously not.

In this way, either the Knight is evil and Horn and Jeanne are holy, or Horn and Jeanne are evil and the Knight is holy.

At that time, no matter how stupid the villagers are, they will hesitate. Is Horn actually a devil? Is his murder of Jeanne an internal conflict among the devils?

He had no choice but to keep her. Although Horn was full of aversion to similar experiences, given the current situation, he could only accept it and even maintain a good relationship with her.

But if you decide to keep her, you have to clear her identity, and then the paradox of the opposition between saint and devil will pop up again.

He closed his eyes helplessly and painfully, and when he opened them again, he turned his body sideways to face the confused crowd.

He looked determined, gripped the hilt tightly, and pointed the tip of the sword at Barnett, whose body was still twitching.

Taking a deep breath, he shouted:

"This is the devil!"

The dark clouds were like a curtain, blocking all the light. Only the lightning that climbed up and down could occasionally illuminate people's confused faces.

After a series of reversals and changes, most of the villagers were dizzy, dazed and completely confused.

"Don't you understand? This Knight Barnett is a devil in disguise. Otherwise, why would he want to kill me?"

Putting on the qualities of a professional charlatan, Horn shook his head hypocritically and said with regret, "My mother told me a long time ago, I just wanted to give him a chance to repent. When he swung the sword, did I move at all?
So Jeanna's move was at the suggestion of Mircella, for the purpose of 'wiping out all the demons' mentioned by the Holy Father!"

The hill fell into an eerie silence. Too much had happened too quickly in such a short period of time, and they were still digesting the situation.

Only one or two smart people had already noticed the problem. They stared at Horn and Jeanne who were sticking close to each other, and their palms began to sweat.

"I see." Wiping the sweat off his palms on his clothes, the one-eyed Jeshka slapped his forehead, as if he had suddenly realized something. He turned his head and said to the crowd behind him, "Think carefully, when the long sword was thrust upon him just now, the Saint's grandson was still smiling."

"As expected of the Saint's grandson, he predicted it so easily."

"Damn it! It turns out that Mr. Barnett is a devil. I was wondering why the taxes are getting higher and higher every year!"

Following the lead of the seven or eight refugees, the other villagers agreed with Horn's statement and even began to curse the dead Barnett.

At this moment, Horn also felt relieved. If someone really doubted it, he would have to send Jeanne to do something a little bloody.

"But, but wasn't that witchcraft magic she used just now?" a childish voice came.

Looking in the direction of the voice, I saw a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old, wearing the robes of an apprentice monk.

Horn remembered that it was Cosset's nephew, a monk from a monastery, and he was the heir Cosset had chosen for himself.

"What kind of witchcraft? That's the magic given by Myrcella!" Horne frowned and looked at the young man. "What's your purpose in saying this? Who instructed you? What's your motive? Did Myrcella allow you to say it?"

The young monk opened his mouth and wanted to speak, but Kose rushed over, covered his mouth, and dragged him into the crowd.

"This Barnett is a devil, and the witch is a servant of the devil. How could he kill the witch? It's almost the same the other way around. Besides, she had received the teachings of Myrcella in her dream before. Can the witch understand the teachings?"

Without waiting for their answer, Horn answered himself and said loudly: "No!"

A loud thunderclap suddenly sounded in the sky, and stronger winds blew rain onto Horn's thin linen shirt that was clinging to his body.

"You guys, don't believe everything you hear. Where is the witch?"

He put his arms around Jeanne's slender and strong waist, turned her sideways, and displayed her in front of everyone.

Horn took a deep breath and said loudly and solemnly: "This is the Saint, a converted Saint recognized by the Holy Father, the Holy Tree, and the Holy Lord!"

(End of this chapter)