The Record of Unusual Creature

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation  Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

News of the witch’s execution by fire had spread throughout the city.

In the Dark Ages, people lived in mental slavery. While royalty and aristocrats could hunt, garden, and indulge in endless banquets to pass their time, the civilians were destitute. Under the double oppression of the church and the aristocrats, any emotional expression could be labeled as witchcraft. This extreme “purification of the mind” spawned a more radical and distorted emotional catharsis: the witch hunt.

The sky had been overcast since dawn. The lead-colored clouds hung low over the city like a hood in the horizon. The clouds had been blocking the sunlight, preventing its rays from reaching the land below. The only source of light was the faint glow occasionally leaking through the gaps in the clouds. The morning chill wind was humid, sweeping through the moldy alleys and across the muddy streets, which stank to the high heavens.

Under the gloomy sky, the city looked dead. The poor weather seemed to be a bad sign. Some old folks on the street watched the low hanging clouds and prayed. They sang praises in the name of the Holy Spirit and recalled superstitious stories about the devil hidden under the city, the dead who wandered at night, the ghost that cried in the attic, and the cemetery outside the city that disappeared mysteriously in the fog. People believed that the weather was a sign of evil forces at work, therefore warned their family not to go out right then.

For most people in the city, however, burning a witch was still more fascinating than bad weather.

Early in the morning, civilians had already passed through the gates of the inner city and thronged the square. They waited for hours just to watch her burn at stakes. The platform on the side of the square was reserved for nobility. Those “VIPs” who were interested in watching the execution would ride in their carriage and watch from the platform in the warmth of their fur coats. But ordinary folks had to come as early as they could to secure a spot in the square. Such a “grand event” had also spawned many profiteers who earned their living from it. Some people offered their services for a fee; some set up wooden platforms on the roofs outside the square, and anyone who wanted to get a good view of the square could get a seat for a fee. There were even booths selling stuff outside the square to take advantage of the crowd so that profiteers could earn enough money to buy bread and bacon for their whole family for a week. Had it not been for the bad weather, the number of traders would have been double.

Hao Ren and Lily did not arrive early enough. So when they got there, not a single spot was available for them to stand. But the two managed to shove themselves through the crowd with their strength and agility, triggering curses of dissatisfaction along the way. They finally came to a position very close to the stake. Lily looked curiously around her toes. There seemed to be a tail wagging behind her although she was in her human form. “Whoa! The scene of a witch’s execution in the medieval times is packed to the brim.”

“You can’t blame them. People don’t have much entertainment,” Hao Ren said casually. “In this era, a couple creating too much noise while making out could be accused of heresy. So, watching a public execution is the only pastime that allows them to vent their emotions.”

“Eww, that’s perverse,” Lily whispered. She also saw the street vendors and idlers, whom she read about, making money by taking advantage of the execution. Seeing was believing—the vendors would later grow into different European markets and attractions in the future. “Madam Marie has arrived. I can smell her scent,” Lily said.

“Well, let’s wait and see,” Hao Ren said.

He looked up in the direction of the stake and waited quietly for the witch named Hessiana to be escorted out.

Hao Ren did not have to wait too long.

Escorting the witch into the place of execution and tying her to the stake was part of the crazy “entertainment”. So, once the hay and oil were ready, Hao Ren saw a strange-looking prisoner transport rolling into the square from the other side. A masked black pony was pulling a carriage ladened with a heavy iron cage. The railings of the enclosure were unusually thick, with chains crisscrossing horizontally to secure it. Every few rings on the chain was made of pure silver. There were many crosses and sharp, spear-like embellishments around the carriage. Hao Ren believed that they were not merely for decoration.

It only meant that the one in the cage was a real witch, not a victim of sacrifice.

The witch was sitting quietly in the cage and wearing a plain muslin dress with a dark blue belt. Her long black hair covered half of her face and hung down her waist without any hair accessories. The unusual thing was how the witch did not have any scars from the whipping, or even dirt on her body. It was as if she had not been abused in the church dungeon at all. It was an unbelievable thing at that time.

Hao Ren heard people in the crowd talking about the witch. They mentioned how the witch was so powerful that holy water and crosses could not hurt her. The whip and awl would not leave scars on her body either. Even her miasma and curses affected the executioners who got too close to her. She only showed fear of the flame, so the church decided to give up on the trial, and burn her at the stake in the square instead.

However, no one knew if the rumors were true.

The witch was finally transported to the stake. She had a heavy chain around her body. Even though she was now at the stake, it did not look like the escorts wanted to take the chain off her; they were going to tie her to the stake with the chain on. Hao Ren saw the two escorts; they were burly but appeared anxious. What could have stricken fear into those mean guys? Hao Ren asked himself.

A gust of wind blew through the square. The hair hanging on the witch’s face fluttered, revealing her face.

She looked younger but she was indeed identical to Vivian.

Hao Ren could not help but exclaim, “She really is that little bat!”

“Mr. Landlord, it’s Hessiana!” Lily blurted.

Hao Ren was in great shock. Although he had guessed from Madam Marie and Helen’s description that the witch was Hessiana, he could not believe it was actually true—there was no way that the humans could have caught Hessiana.

A weirdo who drank holy water, chewed garlic, played with the Bible, and wielded the sacred dagger could not have fallen into the hands of humans who merely knew elementary exorcism.

Hessiana had inherited Vivian’s magical talent, and she was utterly immune to conventional means of exorcism.

Hao Ren’s eyes landed on the chain around Hessiana. It was made of ordinary steel with some silver parts in between. Perhaps those silver parts had been blessed with salt and holy water, but there was a world of difference compared with the sacred silver that the demon hunters used. That aside, the human church would probably not have been able to hold Hessiana up even if they had built a dungeon made entirely of pure silver.

He noticed the expression on Hessiana’s face. Despite being bound by a heavy chain and tied to the stake, she did not look the least bit dejected or fearful. Instead, she was calm with a hint of well-hidden wittiness.

Hao Ren had met the impish kid many times before and knew a thing or two about what that expression of hers meant: her plot was about to succeed.

“This is not good,” Hao Ren whispered. “We’ve screwed up this time.”

“Do you mean Hessiana, Mr. Landlord? She’ll be all right. We’re going to rescue her, and she’ll owe us a big favor!”

“I’m not saying that Hessiana screwed up. It’s the witches who’ve screwed up—Hessiana’s doing this on purpose!”

“Arf?”

Hessiana was already tied to the stake at that point. The executioners locked the shackles on her body with the buckles on the stake. The clank of the fetters seemingly snapped Hessiana out of her thoughts. She looked up and around the square listlessly.

Hessiana’s expression suddenly stiffened, and she seemed to utter the “F” word.

A thin man in a robe stood on the stage near the aristocratic seat and began to read out Hessiana’s crimes from a parchment. According to medieval practice, they were merely fabricated crimes.

“Sneaked into the cemetery at night and left a profane symbol on a tombstone.

“Held meetings where witchcraft was involved, summoned the devil from hell in the apple orchard, and killed an innocent adult with the devil.

“Hurled abusive language at the bishop’s mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and the such.”

The thin man’s reading was a mouthful and long-winded. Meanwhile, the witches had taken up their predetermined positions in the square, stepping on the Letta runes.

Hessiana suddenly turned and shouted in the direction of the platform, “Have you finished yet, motherf*cker? I have admitted my crimes, and you better light me up now! You motherf*cker! Light me up now!”

Hessiana hurled profanities continuously. But the thin man was unperturbed and continued his citation in an unhurried tone of voice, “Insulted the judge, the judge’s mother and father, and trumped up accusations against the family of the judge—”

“Screw you and your sorry existence!” Hessiana kept on hurling insults at the man.

Madam Marie’s voice rose a second later. “Now!”

A swarm of locusts invaded the square from all directions. The ground under the crowd’s feet writhed, as though it was coming to life. People started to scream and cry as the square turned into chaos.

Just then, a few figures emerged from the crowd and sped towards the place of execution. Hessiana roared for the last time.

“Who are you stupid buggers?!”