As Ivan ushered them inside, the humble warmth of the home did little to conceal the anxiety in the air. At the table, two girls waited—a teenager and a much younger child, both glancing up as the group entered.
The older girl, Olga, sat tensely with her hands folded in her lap. Her hair was striking: long, thick, and wavy, a pale blonde that almost shimmered in the muted light, cascading past her chest. Even though she sometimes wore it in buns, ponytails, or tied up in a half-updo, today it was partly loose, framing her pale, delicate features. Her eyes were a piercing, icy blue; right now, they were wide with apprehension.
Beside her sat Anna, the younger sister. With straight, brownish hair neatly plaited into twin braids, Anna's round brown eyes darted nervously between the newcomers and her family. She kept close to Olga, clearly sensing the gravity of the meeting but not fully understanding its weight.
The two groups settled around the small table. Yan Sen's gaze lingered on Olga, seeing the way she held herself—shoulders slightly hunched, hands trembling just a little. There was fear there, but defiance too.
Yan Sen began gently, "You awakened your magical abilities quite young, didn't you? Perhaps around five?"
Ivan nodded, turning to Yan Sen, his voice quiet but sure. "Yes. As she's grown older, it's been harder for her to hide it. The village always notices eventually."
Luda leaned forward sympathetically, focusing on Olga. "It's natural. As girls get older, managing their emotions—and the magic that comes with them—can be tough. Outbursts happen, and sometimes the magic slips out before you realize."
Olga nodded once, swallowing, her eyes flicking to her father before she looked back down at the table. Anna squeezed her hand, silent support for her older sister.
As the conversation grew tense, Yan Sen asked, "How does this sacrifice ritual actually work?"
Ivan sighed heavily, voice taut with anxiety. "They tie the chosen priestess—or priest—to a pole right at the forest's edge. They surround her with torches and leave her there. When night falls, the witch comes from the woods to claim her."
Olga shivered, fear clear on her face. Ivan put an arm around her, murmuring quiet reassurances, though his hand trembled as much as hers.
Yan Sen's jaw tightened as he considered the ritual's logic. "Whoever decided to pick children with magical talent—they made a serious mistake."
Luda and Aleksander exchanged a quick glance, the beginnings of a plan flickering between them. Ivan and Olga noticed, but didn't follow.
Yan Sen explained, his tone urgent, "If the witch specifically takes those with magic, she's probably not just killing them. She's absorbing their power—growing stronger every time."
This realization made Ivan pale further, and Olga gripped her father's hand tightly, eyes wide with dread.
Before they could process this fully, sudden banging rattled the door. Shouts rang out from outside: "Ivan, come out! We know you brought outsiders to stop the ritual!"
The group stiffened, tension crackling in the air as Ivan glanced to Yan Sen, fear and determination mixed in his expression.
Ivan spoke up, "Wait here." He stepped away from the table and made his way toward the front door. As he opened it, he was met by a tense group crowding his front field—villagers packed together, gripping pitchforks, axes, and worn knives. Their faces were tight with fear and suspicion, some barely concealing their anger. The metal glinted in the fading light, and their knuckles stood out white against rough wooden handles, making it clear they'd come prepared for confrontation.
Leading them was Ferid, standing squarely at the front.
Ivan stood firm at the threshold as Ferid and a crowd of villagers, armed with pitchforks, axes, and knives, confronted him outside his home. Ferid's glare was sharp, his voice ringing out above the murmurs of fear around him. "Ivan, you dare bring outsiders to stop the ritual? Are you trying to bring the wrath of the Witch on all of us?"
Many villagers echoed his outrage, their fear and suspicion thick in the air.
Ivan tried to reason with them, desperation clear in his voice. "No, the people I brought can truly help. Please, just hear me out—"
Ferid cut him off with a harsh shout. "No! Bring those outsiders out now!"
At that moment, Yan Sen, Aleksander, and Luda stepped to Ivan's side. Ferid sized them up—young, unfamiliar—but his relief was short-lived. Yan Sen's eyes flashed with confidence as he challenged Ferid, "You seem rather nervous—almost eager—for this so-called sacrifice."
Ferid scowled. "Of course I'm nervous. It's the safety of our village at stake!"
Yan Sen let out a short, knowing chuckle. "Is it only the safety of the village? Nothing more?"
A flicker of unease crossed Ferid's face as Yan Sen pressed further. "When I entered your village, I sensed two sources of magic. One was clearly Ivan's daughter. The other… an older male. Standing before me now, I can confirm—he's related to you."
Ferid's composure crumbled. His panic fueled his anger. "Tie them up! We'll sacrifice them to the Witch too!"
Driven by fear and paranoia, the villagers surged forward, ready to seize the Exorcists.
Yan Sen calmly raised both hands. Blue sparks of energy crackled and danced at his fingertips, building into a powerful surge of electricity. Suddenly, arcs of lightning shot from his hands, splitting and leaping from one villager to the next. The bolts lit up the night with brilliant, electric blue, each strike sending a flash of blinding light as it hit its target. Crackling energy filled the air, humming and sparking off metal and wood alike. One by one, the villagers collapsed to the ground—not dead, but paralyzed by the overwhelming shock.
Yan Sen stepped across the quiet clearing, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. He stopped beside the fallen, paralyzed villagers. Kneeling, he studied Ferid's wide, terrified eyes.
"Be a good boy… and don't interfere with us again," Yan Sen said calmly, his tone carrying a dangerous finality.
Ferid's lips trembled, but no sound came — frozen by both the paralysis and sheer fear.
Yan Sen rose, his robe swaying lightly, and glanced over his shoulder. Ivan and his family stood a few steps away, their faces a mixture of awe and unease, as if unsure whether to revere him… or fear him.
"We must move now," Yan Sen declared, his gaze sweeping over his students. "The time of sacrifice is drawing near."
Aleksander and Luda exchanged a brief look, then nodded in unison, ready to follow.