Within the circle of trees.
The witch let out a faint sigh, as if tinged with a hint of helplessness, and said softly: "I may not necessarily be a match for the witch hunters."
"They are very familiar with us."
"They know everything about us, know our weaknesses."
The Forest Demoness raised her head, her voice filled with melancholy: "My lord is so powerful, dealing with that Witch Hunter wouldn't be difficult."
"Are you really going to watch us perish here?"
The witch's face showed a hint of reluctance as she sighed softly: "Even if I kill that Witch Hunter, so what?"
"There will be new missionaries, more Witch Hunters will come here."
Having said that, the witch's beautifully sorrowful face gazed in the direction of the church, staring at the cross in the darkness, she said sadly: "Our era has ended..."
This powerful witch also felt a deep sense of helplessness in the face of great changes of the times.
It was like a great mountain.
Pressing down on all those with Supernatural Power so they could hardly breathe.
Hearing the witch's words, the Forest Demoness also showed a trace of despair; she seemed like a wilting flower, sadly rising, bowing, and taking her leave, as if preparing to accept her fate of death.
"Wait a moment."
The witch suddenly called out to the Forest Demoness about to disappear under the oak's shadow, her expression hesitant, she thought for a moment and said: "I am pursuing the clue of a prophecy."
"If it succeeds."
"I can take you away from here, to settle in a peaceful land far from the continent."
The Forest Demoness' expression was mournful, she said softly: "The gods have been forsaken."
"What use is a prophecy?"
The witch was momentarily speechless, her prophesied future was endless fire, countless kindred screaming sorrowfully in the flames, burning crosses representing their merciless judgment.
Heretic!
It was nearly a thousand years of tragic fate, that was the medieval period called the 'Dark Ages.'
The darkness has already arrived.
The Middle Ages are about to come!
She must seize the last thread of light in her fate because it represents their only hope.
The witch solemnly said: "The prophecy tells me that the church will begin a nearly thousand-year trial against 'heretics', the dark medieval age is imminent."
"The child of fate who will change everything has also descended."
"He might influence the future of the world, one of the tracks of fate, he has pointed the way forward for us."
"On the other side of the distant sea there is a cold land."
"There we can stay away from the world, avoid strife, and quietly wait for the light of enlightenment to dawn a thousand years later."
The Forest Demoness was stunned, her expression showing disbelief.
The witch calmly said: "I can place a barrier over your dwelling, which might deceive that Witch Hunter."
The Forest Demoness showed a hint of joy, just about to thank her, she suddenly let out a sharp scream.
—"Witch Hunter!"
In the darkness, at the edge of the tree circle under the moonlight, a figure in a gray hooded cloak slowly emerged, his chain armor slightly reflecting, gray arm guards, black fingerless gloves, his hand holding the hilt of the sword behind him, icy cold eyes seemingly devoid of emotion, pupils amber-colored, displaying dragon-like vertical slits.
The atmosphere instantly seemed to freeze.
The witch's expression was extremely grave, as if this Demon Hunter posed a great threat to her, while the Forest Demoness showed a terrified face, not knowing how many kindred had died at the hands of a Witch Hunter over nearly a hundred years.
There was some movement in the forest.
Someone else?
The witch and the Demon Hunter expressed surprise and doubt, and under the moonlight in the darkness, a handsome and thin profile emerged, a tall and slender figure stepped out of the forest, the bow of the Northern Land was drawn like a full moon, the cold arrow aimed at the Demon Hunter ahead.
Duncan emerged from the darkness with an expressionless face, not approaching the nearby witch, standing still in place, but with his back to the witch, his face a cold gaze fixed on the Demon Hunter.
"It's you!" The witch's face showed delight, her expression somewhat relieved.
The three figures stood opposed, the Demon Hunter's expression was also extremely serious, he thought he was tracking a witch, but unexpectedly followed another person for half a day.
Child of fate?
Is it me?
On the other side of the distant sea lies a cold land?
It shouldn't be Britain.
Iceland?
Iceland seems to have had colonists only starting from the 9th century, if it's across the sea, it should be Iceland.
Is the divination magic of this world so powerful?
The Demon Hunter glanced at the witch, then at Duncan, completely ignoring the Forest Demoness in the corner of the shadows, seemingly not caring about her power at all, he slowly opened his mouth, his voice hoarse: "Crow Queen—Triss."
The witch gazed at the opponent's dragon-like pupils, lightly said: "Dragon Slayer—Saint George."
Wait?!
Saint George the Dragon Slayer?
Duncan's expression suddenly became incredibly serious, he hadn't expected the Demon Hunter to actually be a legendary figure.
No.
The time is probably around AD 450, many of the legendary figures likely haven't been born yet. If the time moves back a bit more, then it would be during the era full of mythological figures, after all, that era had a bit of coexistence between gods and people.
If time rewinds about five hundred years, maybe one might encounter Jesus walking the earth.
In the shadows, the Demon Hunter said calmly: "I am now called George-Paul."
"A wandering demon hunter."
The witch, Crow Queen—Triss looked quite puzzled, she softly said: "I am now Triss-Hathaway, a reclusive forest witch."
At this time, Duncan untimely interjected: "Duncan, a farmer from Bulan Village at the edge of the Empire."
"Without a surname."
At such a moment that might be remembered by history and legend, he just had to butt in forcefully and seize the moment.