The sword thrust askew—Vivian, who had originally had her eyes closed, opened them now.
And she looked with exceptional calm at Marshall ahead of her, sharp blade in hand, preparing to stab down at the five Black Witches.
"What a strange fellow..."
"In the past, all you ever wanted was a bit of flesh and blood."
"But now you're going straight for the knife."
"No matter how you look at it, that's not normal, is it..."
Though she was shackled by great iron chains, not the slightest trace of pain showed on Vivian's face.
On the contrary.
Because of Marshall's abnormal behavior today.
It let her sense an atmosphere different from before.
A faint smile also, unconsciously, appeared on her face.
In the past, whenever this fellow came, it was basically either to suck blood or to torture.
Trying to obtain some intelligence in one go.
But this time was different.
Although this fellow Marshall's expression was still managed very well this time.
The panic in his eyes could not be faked.
The dignified Pope.
Yet there was panic in his eyes.
How could that not make her find it funny?
And Marshall, who was just about to act, paused as well after hearing Vivian—someone who also rarely took the initiative to speak in the past—open her mouth.
But after glancing sidelong at her, he raised the longsword.
"Vampire, this Pope has no time to chat with you right now."
"If you have any last words, say them together when you're killed in a moment."
As he said this, the longsword Marshall had raised stabbed down swiftly.
The five Black Witches, who had already been tortured for a very long time, were now just like those White Feather Race birdmen from before.
Facing the thrust of the longsword, they had