After the smoke caused by the battle dissipated, the forest returned to silence.

The witch's long braids had unraveled, and her hair spread like white petals over her body.

Blood streamed down her back and quickly formed a dark red puddle, slowly immersing into the ground and melting the cold, hard soil. After that, the air was filled with a smell of iron.

Nightingale squatted and untied the blindfold on the witch's face. She found the face looked unexpectedly young, probably similar to her own age. However, the scars by her eyes destroyed her overall beauty—her eyes looked like they had been repeatedly burned by red-hot iron, and her skin was red and wrinkled, so she had lost the contours of her eyes.

This was undoubtedly caused by men. Nightingale gently touched the wrinkled scars; as for whether she suffered these wounds before becoming a witch or after serving the church, no one would ever know. However, this was no longer important because from now on, she couldn't hurt an