There were a lot of people who wanted to watch the public execution. Elbowing each other, as if in a hurry to go to a fair, they made their way to the front rows, not wanting to miss the main event — the witch's dedication to the fire.

The eyes of those present were turned to the woman tied to the post.

The thought that you could have been in her place sent shivers through your body.

The main witch hunter, known as Konig, who had dozens of witches and warlocks on his account, stepped forward, raising his clenched fist in the air.

"This is the third witch in the last three weeks," his voice boomed in the silence. Even the wind seemed to stop, not daring to interrupt him, "And this is not the end. I personally execute every creature associated with magic with my own hand. I give you my word!"

As soon as he unclenched his fist, everyone roared in approval.

Flames burst out, greedily engulfing the hay bales, creeping up to the floors of the woman's dress. There was a piercing, chilling screech. You didn't turn away, although you really wanted to. Forcing yourself, you caught every moment of inhuman torture, saying: look what will happen to you if you are not careful!

The parade of horror and the smell of burnt flesh in the air made you feel sick. But it became scarier when you caught the gaze of the hunter's icy eyes on you. He scanned as if checking for lice, since your face was hidden in the shadow of the hood of your cloak, and then slowly moved in your direction.

Slowly stepping back with your back, keeping your eyes on Konig, you moved through the crowd, hoping for a chance to get lost. He knew your plan in advance: he's too smart not to understand.

Suddenly, a raven flew in front of the man's face, catching the fabric of the hood that hid his face with its claws, and he only managed to hold it on his head at the last moment, and after correcting it, he realized: your trail has already disappeared.

"We'll meet again, witch," he growled with a grin, returning to his hunting party.