Louis II clutched his head with both his hands. His long, orange hair was tangled and frayed. Sitting across a table from him, there was his advisor. “Am I still the king of Hungary or not!?” the young king asked, practically shouting. “Tell me!”

“I’m not quite sure, Your Majesty,” the advisor said and stroked his chin. His eyes shifted up towards the ceiling, and he frowned. “When you surrendered to the devil and promised to join her empire, you lost your identity as a king. However, it seems like as long as you accomplish the tasks that the devil assigned you, you’ll still maintain your power. You’re not a king, but your status hasn’t changed. It’s like you’ve become a vassal responsible for governing all of Hungary.”

“Then I’m still king?” Louis asked, fires burning in his eyes.

“No, but, effectively, yes.”

“Why do you always use such an annoying manner of speech?” Louis asked and grabbed a mug that was on the table. He drank what was inside before throwing it at his advisor. “More importantly, if I remain in this position, am I going to hell when I die? That was a devil; she had horns! If I help her, surely I’ll be going against”—he gestured towards the ceiling—“his will.”

The advisor frowned. “This may be a test of your faith, Your Majesty, like how Eve was tempted by the snake. I’m afraid I wasn’t trained to advise people on such topics. You’ll have to make your own decision regarding this.”

Louis II licked his lips and relaxed, lowering his arms to his sides. “I understand,” he said and narrowed his eyes. He stood up and swept his right hand from the left side of his body to his right, flapping his sleeve. “Gather all the knights. Tell them to be fully prepared for battle.” He pointed at a maid standing in a corner of the room. “Gather a pot full of water and weeds. Tell someone to help you bring it to the fields along with some firewood.”

“What are you planning to do, Your Majesty?” the advisor asked.

“I’m the king!” Louis II shouted. He jabbed his finger towards the advisor. “You told me you couldn’t advise me on this issue, so just do as you’re told, understand? Don’t question me!”

***

Mary let out a sigh filled with contentment. All her pent-up frustrations were finally gone. However, the men below her couldn’t say the same. They were covered in bruises, and it was impossible to find a patch of undamaged skin on their bodies. The welts seemed to suggest they were smacked by something long and solid, like the flat part of a magical sword capable of translating words. Even the servants who drove the carriage and cooked the food hadn’t been spared. Of the traveling party, only the horses remained untouched; however, their ears were twitching, and they were leaning as far away from Mary as possible without actually lifting their hooves. Mary glanced down, staring at the groaning men with a blank expression. “Well, does anyone have anything to say?”

“We were wrong! Spare us, please!”

“We made a grave mistake, and our punishment was well-deserved.”

“I…, I can see a light. Is that heaven? Am I dying?”

Mary nodded. It seemed like most of the men had repented. After learning a lesson, they wouldn’t dare make another mistake again. Somehow, she had forgotten what mistake they made, but she was sure it was serious enough to warrant a beating. “Excellent. What do we do now?” After three months of riding in a carriage, suffering through monotonous days, her sense of purpose was dulled. Why had she endured that? Right. The short person that was Tafel’s friend might’ve been around this place. “How do we locate the witch?”

“First, we should go to the king,” one of the men said. He was still curled up in the fetal position on the ground. “He was the one that notified the empire of the witch. He should’ve been keeping track of the witch’s whereabouts, but even if he wasn’t that smart, the people around him should know what needed to be done.”

“Alright,” Mary said. “But will he still cooperate with us even after what the Holy Roman Empire did to him?”

Aren’t we still cooperating with you after what you did to us? The man wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to get beaten again, so he didn’t. “I’m sure he’ll cooperate. The secular part and the spiritual part of the Holy Roman Empire are practically two different entities.”

Mary raised an eyebrow. “That woman from before looked pretty disgusted when she realized you were from the empire.”

“T-that’s because she didn’t know who we were,” the man said. He sat up—or tried to. His limbs were like jelly, and his body wouldn’t support him, so he fell back down after doing half a sit-up.

Mary blinked. “Would the king recognize you?”

“Of course!” the man said.

“Even though you look like that?” Mary asked as if she had nothing to do with their bruised appearance.

The man glanced at his companions. He couldn’t differentiate them from the servants who were brought to drive the carriages. “W-we might have to wait a few days to recover.”

“A few days is too long,” Mary said. “Isn’t there some sort of symbol that the king will recognize? Just let me handle it by myself.”

“If you tell the king you’re the one sent by the pope to capture the witch, he’ll understand,” the man said. “I could do it myself, but he might not believe me after seeing the state I’m in. Although you beat us pretty badly, we’re still the strongest members of the church. Injuries such as these are nothing.”

Mary narrowed her eyes. “Yet none of you can stand. How have you been trained?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I barely even touched you with my sword, yet none of you were able to withstand more than two hits.”

If you knew we couldn’t take two hits, why did you continue hitting us!? The man wanted to cry.