Shouts and screams echoed from a Church sanctified lynching. A vast majority of the public lingered back, clutching their belongings or ushering themselves away. But doing so only gave the chaotic pit room to breathe as the brazen lot doled out their ‘justice’.

  A girl in blue and white stood among the passive ring of bystanders, clinging to a little scrap of parchment with a green stamp and an empty basket.

  The tangled mess of limbs that comprised the noisy mob blotted out most of the victim’s frame. Before long, red splatters stained the cobbled plaza, and the verdant greens of divine magic flared bright as the targeted woman burned through her mana to endure the onslaught. All under the supervision of a set of pretentiously dressed Church inquisitors.

  The girl’s face contorted, brows furrowing sharply as her thumb tore through the fibers of the contract in her hand. It’d only been the second such scene she was an audience to and honestly, it was two too many.

  “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

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  A man stood beside her. His cloak was heavy, its hood lowered. A gruff-looking man, but notably tidy. And despite the cover, ?glimpses of distinctly gold church attire were hard to ignore. There was a sickening glint in his eyes, heavy-lidded and glassy, soaking in the scene rather than fixing on the girl he addressed. A slight hook at the corner of his mouth displayed a sombre smile of approval.

  It coaxed the girl back a step.

  The Church wasn’t usually the type to hide within the crowds. Their pride wouldn’t let them. Or perhaps she’d just never noticed before. Ultimately, it really didn’t matter. She knew they were everywhere, regardless.

  “Are you sure you’re allowed to speak like that?”

  She was met with silence.

  She took a step aside to leave for the town gate, stowing her job bill away. This nonsense was a gross waste of her time, she decided.

  “Little lady.”

  The call had those blue eyes of hers rolling, throwing an exasperated look back over her shoulder.

  “You’re not a healer, are you?”

  Her face scrunched up in an instant as if all she’d heard was gibberish.

  “No. I’m just an alchemist.”

  A phrase she spoke so often it’d effectively become a mantra.

  Not another word left the girl’s lips. She’d long since learned better than to engage any further with anyone that had the Church’s arm shoved up their ass. With a dismissive glare, she swung her head away and continued down the road out of town and away from the droning violence.

  Bunch of lunatics.

  How are they in power?