She could see the villagers stack wood and straws through the crack in her tent that made up the opening.

Stack upon stack of fuel for the pyre that was sure to burn soon enough, bringing a screaming woman to the salvation of God—of Paradise.

Emilia's hand twisted into a clenched fist as she pressed her lips to a thin line, her eyes saddening at the thought of what was about to transpire in a few hours.

Noah would be condemned, judged to be cleansed by the fires that the vengeful villagers would be igniting soon enough if they had their way, and she would leave without many mourning the loss.

"I hate this…" Emilia whispered as she looked down on her feet, biting her lower lip in tense apprehension.

Right now she should be on a horse, heading towards the harbor to catch a ship set for the Western Isle—and if not then hiring on would not be a problem if she shoved enough gold in the captain's waiting hands—but no. Instead, Crestia Bell had chained Emilia to the campsite with the entirety of Inquisitor Soldiers, villagers and the men from the fort that the demons were occupying.

"Your abilities are much more needed here, Lady Emilia," Crestia had said as she folded her hands neatly in her lap, only the lower part of her face visible under her huge hood, "I will send a bird with news of the unfortunate events to the High Council, you must wait for their orders before acting any further."

Those damn old men would take a single glance at the request she sent in before ordering a few soldiers, probably no more than five or, at best, ten to the village on Western Isle that Emilia knew the Demon Overlord had targeted.

New Sloan…

The new village that had been built on the ruins of the old one a few years ago, orders to do so had come directly from the higher part of the Church with Olba having pulled a few major strings he had for Emilia, with the Hero herself partaking in the hard work. Having done that, having built her home up from the ground like that, had meant more to Emilia than anything else in the world.

But the Demon King would take that away from her once more, once more letting loose his hordes of demons, necromancers and devils to burn down her beloved village.

They would desecrate everything she had strived so hard to rebuild!

Emilia's teeth bit down harshly upon her lips, almost hard enough to break the soft skin, as a sudden idea struck her.

She could disappear from the camp, getting ready now before sneaking off in the dead of night and make her way to the harbor! She could get to the Western Isle within two weeks at best if the winds were in her favor! She could—!

"Lady Emilia?"

Having been shaken out of her dark and furious thoughts by the new voice, Emilia looked over her shoulder and found one of the soldiers that had helped her retrieve Noah—she reckoned her own face was very much alike his slightly shocked one.

"It's already time?" she asked softly and the soldier nodded curtly.

"Y-yes," the soldier answered with a shaky voice, "The Inquisitor has requested that the witch is brought to face justice at her trial."

'That disgusting farce that's called a trial, you mean,' Emilia spat mentally before she nodded softly and followed the soldier out of her private tent and over to the temporary barracks where Noah had been chained up.

The inside of the barracks was an absolute mess of unmade beds, sleeping men from the night's watch schedule and stray pieces of armor. Only the corridor that had been made into a pseudo-prison hall remained free of any kind of debris.

As she stood outside of the heavy door that barred Noah from the outside world, Emilia halted for second, pausing the hand that had reached out for the handle in midair, as Crestia Bell's face flashed through her mind.

The Inquisitor would be ruthless, as expected of her, and not a single thing Noah would say could make her gain a smaller sentence than what Crestia and the High Council had in mind. She wanted to be mad at Noah, she really wanted to, but since the night back at the camp where Noah had broken down and told her why she had been with Satan a tiny, tiny, seed of doubt had been planted within Emilia's mind.

Perhaps Noah had been telling the truth about why she had been with Satan; perhaps she had lied…

Emilia didn't know what to think anymore, she really didn't, and it honestly made her head ache more than the Church's business usually did.

"Lady Emilia?" the soldier beside her questioned quietly, looking slightly uncomfortable as he kept shifting the weight from one foot to the other one.

"I know, I just needed a moment to collect myself," Emilia sighed as she accepted the key that the soldier handed to her and quickly unlocked the door.

Stark darkness met her eyes, causing the fuchsia-haired woman to squint her eyes and blink rapidly as they adjusted to the huge absence of light.

"Let's get this over with," the Hero grumbled as she strode into the dark room with her soldier not far behind. The young man fumbled with tangling a long strip of rope out of a pair of heavy handcuffs as he hurried in after Emilia, only stopping when the sound of a woman groaning softly sounded somewhere to the side of the two warriors.

Emilia turned slightly and strode confidently towards the sound only to let out a soft gasp when her eyes fell upon Noah's form.

The copper hair that before had hung limply down her back was now a shaggy mess of hair that ended just above her shoulders, bruises ranging in colors from blueish violet to black covered the entirety of the left side of her face, another addition to the collection of injuries that the young woman had already sustained. Emilia's eyes fell upon Noah's feet and she winced as she saw the still-swelled ankle the healer had been resting since she had been brought to the temporary prison.

"It's time, Noah," Emilia said as she looked down at the dirty, tired woman with a mixture of sadness and anger burning in her yellow eyes, "It's time for your trial."


Chapter 28: A Witch Condemned


"WHAT?!"

Adramelech stared at his Lord with wide eyes, the Minotaur's jaw growing slack as he mulled over the orders he had just heard.

"My Lord," Malacoda hissed from beneath his hood, "I am sure that I… understand where these orders come from?"

Satan raised a single, dark eyebrow as he glared at the robed Necromancer, "You are defying my orders, Malacoda? You are questioning me, your Lord and Liege? Your ruler?"

Malacoda's eyes gleamed a brilliant red beneath his hood, yet the Necromancer did not speak a word.

"Lord Satan," Alciel began as he stepped forward while bowing slightly, "I am no—"

"Silence," Satan snarled at Alciel as his eyes flashed with Demonic Magic for a moment, "You will not speak until spoken to, Alciel, I am understood?" he hissed at his old friend and General with contempt, not taking his eyes off Alciel as the blonde demon stepped backwards without another word.

"Now," Satan continued and turned his attention back on Malacoda, "I do believe that what I'm asking is not out of your range of abilities, Malacoda."

"Of course not, Lord Satan," the Necromancer replied softly, "Scrying is not hard, nor is pinpointing one of the many Shades I bound to you before you left for the Eastern Isle, but I do not believe that I completely understand the reason behind scrying this particular Shade."

"The reason behind my request will remain that way, Malacoda," Satan glowered as he kept his ruby eyes trained upon the Necromancer, "We will discuss this further in my private chambers."

"Of course, Lord Satan," Malacoda said as he stepped into the shadows beside the Throne and disappeared without another word.

Alciel and Adramelech were left standing in the Throne Room before their Ruler, both of them moving awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"You are dismissed," Satan growled and waved a hand dismissively at the two demons, not sparing either of them a glance as they both bowed and walked towards the huge doors leading into the Throne Room.

"Adramelech," called Satan just as the two reached the doors, and the large Minotaur turned his head ever so slightly to the side to glance at his Lord.

"Lord Satan?"

"In the future I would appreciate that someone would occupy Lucifer's interest, should a situation like the one we have been occupied with for the last two weeks arise again, of course. That responsibility will fall upon you," Satan said, eyes glowing with barely held back malice as he stared at the Minotaur, and his hands clenching slightly on the armrest.

"Of course, Lord Satan," Adramelech nodded before he turned back towards the door and slammed it open, barely waiting for his colleague to get out before he closed it harshly once more.

Satan waited a moment after the Generals had left before standing up himself, hissing slightly when the still tender muscles in his abdomen flashed a short burst of pain up through his body.

'I'm still not finished… I cannot rest any longer!' he grumbled internally as he carefully made his way out of the Throne Room and headed for his private chambers. The entire way up to the dark chambers—no doubt dusty as well—went painstakingly slow, even for him, but he never let a single hiss or growl slip past his lips.

Finally reached the huge, ornately decorated doors, Satan slipped inside and immediately headed for the large chair in the middle of the room, sinking into the plush comfort before he looked upon the now-closed doors he had just entered.

He only had to wait for Malacoda before his plan could be set into action, before his servant would be required to play her part.


Yes, I realize that 'New Sloan' ain't "canon" since it has never really been mentioned as far as I know, but I'd imagine that the Church wouldn't just let an entire village get burned down and then leave it at that; please correct me if I'm wrong there, but well… character development for Emi, I suppose.

Please review and vote on my poll in case you haven't done so already, it'll be closed in a few days!