"Let go of me! You damn human! How dare you touch me?!"
A woman with long purple hair had been thrown to the ground, right in the center of the throne room.
She was surrounded by multiple men, each dressed in red uniforms and carrying weapons of their choice.
The woman seemed afraid, though she tried masking it under a guise of cockiness.
She continuously glanced around her, trying to see if there was a way she could escape.
Why?
Well, it was simple. She had been caught by the infamous witch hunters.
Because she, of course, was a witch.
With a single trail of sweat rolling down the side of her face, she suddenly pointed at one of the men surrounding her.
"You there. I—if you let me go right now, I'll bless you with all the power you can think of. A witch never breaks her promise. I promise you this: you can have me to yourself all you want."
Rather than a decent response, all she got from the man was a disgusted look. His face remained mostly hidden beneath his helm.
