Charles Carter, quite satisfied with the priest’s resolve, nodded lightly, then took the lead and stepped out the door. Looking at the road ahead, the witcher pursed his lips slightly.

A stretch of darkness.

But at least, this darkness was harmless.

“Ahhhhh~ No, please don’t… sob sob sob…”

Just as the two were heading toward the car, a sudden scream and wailing came from the direction of the second floor. The despair and panic contained within made Charles Carter's pupils contract sharply, and the priest beside him froze, exclaiming in shock.

“It’s…the second floor, Tina Bennett!!!”

Buzzzzz~

The longsword at Charles Carter’s waist shrieked as it leapt from its scabbard, hovering automatically in the air, its blade pointing straight at the inn. Intense white light surged forth madly, almost turning the surroundings into broad daylight, and made Charlie Carter’s face instantly go deathly pale—

In his vision, an unbelievable darkness and malice shrouded the direction of the second floor!

But aside from that, nothing could be seen!

“Beep… The witch has unleashed her curse power…”

“System auto-locking…”

(Data is so miserable, the author is rolling on the ground begging for votes, for favorites, for comments (っ╥╯﹏╰╥c).)

Chapter 9: Witch!

With a sudden motion, his right hand shot out and gripped the hilt of the sword floating before him. Charles Carter’s entire body ignited with raging battle energy, charging swiftly toward the inn. A thick black curtain had just begun to appear when Charles Carter, blazing with white radiance, crashed through it, shattering it to pieces.

Black light splattered in all directions. The witcher’s expressionless face turned pale for a moment, but his forward momentum did not slow in the slightest.

Smack~

His left foot landed on the wall, and the battle energy compressed beneath his foot exploded, propelling his slender figure upward with tremendous force. Reaching up, he grabbed onto the edge of the balcony, using it as leverage, and Charles Carter crashed straight through the second-floor window, rolling into the room of the Smith family.

No sooner had he entered than a beam of black light shot toward Charles Carter, colliding head-on with the sword the witcher held at an angle before him. Amid the sudden metallic clang, Charles Carter retreated sharply, keeping a safe distance from the center of the malice. Between the fingers of his left hand behind his back, five yellow talismans appeared silently.

Keep your distance, large-scale energy cleansing!

Without special equipment, this is the standard method in the main world for dealing with spirit-type monsters!

Simple, brutal, and effective!

But the prepared Charles Carter realized that this time, perhaps, it wasn’t even necessary—

“Well, well, well… look who it is?”

A slurred, mocking voice, but the malice within was unmistakably clear.

A twisted face stared fixedly at Charles Carter, a smile of depravity and delight on her lips.

“…Ariel Bennett?”

“No…” The witcher’s gaze fell on those swirling pupils, and the blue subtitles before his eyes locked onto the figure of this middle-aged woman, making Charles Carter’s voice turn icy cold.

“Perhaps I should call you… Miss Witch.”

“Giggle giggle… As expected of the church’s witcher, Jehovah’s dog, your nose is as sharp as ever.”

Ariel Bennett’s mouth stretched into a grin, revealing a mouthful of jagged teeth. Amid a series of cracking sounds, the arm that had been hanging behind her suddenly twisted to the front… or rather, to the back…

Only now did Charles Carter realize that the woman’s head was facing backward.

Her neck had long since twisted to a degree that would kill any ordinary person, yet this creature before him was still active. Her right hand, already torn and bloody, was raised, the five fingers—almost turned into claws—clamped tightly around Tina Bennett’s neck. Charles Carter recognized the face, now flushed red, the once-bright eyes now filled with tears.

On her other arm clung a man, one hand gripping the woman’s left hand tightly, the other frantically clutching her arm.

Smith, Smith Doyle.

This man, who had previously seemed so cowardly, now displayed astonishing courage—even though his chest had been pierced by the fruit knife in his ‘wife’s’ hand, even as his pupils began to dilate, the muscles in his arms bulged and did not relax in the slightest, gripping tightly the arm that had stabbed through his own chest…

His eyes were bloodshot, glaring unyieldingly at the ‘witch’, filled with the greatest and final courage and resolve that an ordinary person can show when pushed to the brink!

“Damn demon! Get out… of Ellie’s body, let go of my daughter… now!!”

Rip~~~

Staring at Charles Carter, Ariel Bennett’s left hand swung fiercely, the fruit knife in her hand spraying a fountain of crimson. Smith’s pupils dilated suddenly, as if in disbelief, or hatred…

He glanced at Charles Carter, his lips moved, but in the end, he couldn’t say anything. With a thud, he collapsed to the ground, breathing his last, a crimson pool of sin spreading beneath him.

“…Tina Bennett…”