Liona, who had been standing behind the Baroness the whole time, let out a small smile—
as if hoping her Young Master truly was guilty and would be sent into exile.
If he's exiled… the Baroness's burden will be a little lighter.
The Baroness, not at all shocked by Lucian's earlier demand that everyone kneel if he were innocent, trembled slightly—afraid that her son might truly be guilty.
"Lucian… my son…"
Her eyes began to glisten, guilt rising with every breath she took as a mother.
"Forgive me… this must be because the money I gave you wasn't enough…"
The Baron, still seated with his brows drawn low, spoke quietly.
"Lucian… why?"
In his heart, he believed the freedom he had given his son had rotted his morals too deeply.
---
Healer Mae stepped forward.
The cheering died instantly from that single step.
"I, Mae Rawdihgo…"
Her voice echoed between ribs and bone.
"…take authority over the judgment of today's sin."
Lucas blinked.
"…Rawdi—WHAT?"
A few people snickered.
Mae turned her head and stared straight at him.
"You're surprised," she said flatly.
"Reasonable. I didn't expect you to still recognize a name… in the midst of your degeneracy."
Lucas reflexively opened his mouth.
What kind of name even—
Mae let out a quiet snort.
"No wonder you don't know I bear the name Rawdihgo. You've been too busy drowning in your own filth… to remember the face of a sacred name."
She raised her right hand.
White light wrapped around her gauntlet.
Ancient runes crawled from her wrist to her fingertips, burning crimson.
"And yes—
I, Mae Rawdihgo… the first and last disciple of Oiliyana Rawdihgo…"
Whispers spread.
That name detonated softly through the crowd like distant thunder.
"…will expose your sin, Lucian Voss."
A chill crawled up Lucas's spine.
"Sir Geralt."
One call.
Geralt stood up faster than when his wife called him.
"Y-yes!"
"Turn around."
Geralt froze… then obeyed, standing several meters away from Mae.
Some villagers gasped.
Others swallowed hard.
Some shuddered beneath the aura carried by the Rawdihgo name.
Mae slowly…
…knelt.
One knee touched the ground.
She raised her elbow, index and middle fingers extended like a gun.
Then she aimed—
Straight at Geralt's ass.
THE GAUNTLET FLARED.
WHOOOM.
Magic circles formed in sequence—from small to massive—suspended behind Geralt's butt.
Hovering.
Glowing.
Ancient runes rotated along the edges like rotten prayers.
A villager whispered,
"My God… that's aimed at his—"
Mae did not answer.
She tilted her body…
Then—
Her left arm snapped upward.
Not elegant.
Not graceful.
Weird.
Almost like an unemployed war-dance ritual invented by someone trying to become a streamer.
Slowly…
Her two fingers split—forming a V.
She dragged them across her eyes.
A thin glow ignited within her irises.
Not technology.
Magic.
Like someone had just opened a third eye.
"Sin cannot hide from the eyes of Rawdihgo," she said calmly.
"If you are truly tainted… this magic will peel everything open."
Geralt trembled.
"I-I wasn't touched! By God I swea—"
"Silence."
Mae raised her hand again.
The circle behind Geralt pulsed.
Faster.
The air grew heavy.
As if something…
…was about to pass through flesh.
Lucas stood frozen.
Is this a ritual… or a literal ass-shooting?
Light gathered.
The runes flickered.
And the entire village held its breath.
---
The magic circle trembled.
Mae stiffened.
Her eyes widened.
GLUP.
Whispers instantly broke loose.
"It must be destroyed…"
"That hole's beyond saving…"
"The Young Master is truly disgusting…"
Mae lifted her head.
"NO."
One word.
It slammed into the crowd.
"On the contrary…"
Her voice tightened.
"…Sir Geralt's tightness is still… within NORMAL range."
She gagged slightly and covered her mouth.
The crowd went dead silent.
Then—
The Baron blinked.
"…What?"
The Baroness clapped a hand over her mouth.
"…Normal…?"
Liona frowned, confused.
"…Then… why?"
Silvara leaned slightly forward.
"But then— what exactly…?"
Mae exhaled deeply…
"But…"
The magic circle flared.
"…there are… unnatural marks."
The villagers reacted instantly.
"What kind—"
"Then what—"
Mae swallowed.
"…kiss marks."
THE CROWD EXPLODED.
"KISSES?!"
"DOWN THERE?!"
"IS THE YOUNG MASTER INSANE?!"
Mae continued.
"And…"
Her voice dropped lower.
"…many bite marks."
THIS TIME—
THE CROWD ERUPTED COMPLETELY.
"DISGUSTING!!"
"THIS IS BEYOND SHAMEFUL!!"
"BASTARD—!!"
The Baron half rose.
"…Lucian."
Not anger.
Something worse.
Revulsion mixed with disappointment.
The Baroness trembled.
"Lucian…"
Her hand clutched her chest.
"This… is too much…"
Liona took half a step back.
She didn't look at Lucas with hatred…
…but with fear.
"This… is even worse than the rumors…"
Whispers turned into curses.
"Disgusting…"
"Shame of the Voss name…"
"He's not human…"
Lucas stood rigid.
What the hell…?
Silvara looked at him.
She didn't defend him.
Only emptiness.
"…Young Master…"
Then—
MAE ROSE.
Not stood.
Rose.
One jolt.
TAK!
She repeated the movement while standing—this time aimed at Lucian Voss's face.
FWOOOOOM.
A new magic circle formed.
Bigger.
Brighter.
Crushing.
Right before Lucas's face.
His mouth hung open.
"W—WAIT—?!"
His jaw locked.
The air around him hardened like solid glass.
Mae narrowed her eyes.
Her voice…
cracked.
"…No."
A whisper.
Her hand trembled.
"…This… is not his sin."
She swallowed hard.
The crowd fell silent.
The Baroness held her breath.
The Baron froze.
Liona turned to stone.
Mae twitched her fingers.
The circle wavered.
Its light faltered.
"W-what… is—"
Lucas tried to speak… but his throat was strangled by the air itself.
Mae faltered.
"No…"
The word left her… like a broken prayer.
"I… Rawdihgo…"
Her voice trembled.
"…I cannot be wrong…"
Her eyes slowly widened.
"…It's impossible…"
Her hand lowered slightly.
"But.... this magic... never lies...."
The ritual… shook.
That meant only one thing— the sin she sought... was never in him at all.
The circle throbbed unstably.
Like a heart that had begun to doubt itself.
Lucas stood still.
His jaw facing lethal magic.
And for the first time—
Healer Mae Rawdihgo looked afraid of her own ritual's result.
---
Geralt, who had been silent this whole time, finally opened his mouth.
"That's…"
From within the crowd, a woman's voice thundered—
"Me."
The villagers gasped and turned toward her.
Geralt's eyes softened.
He gave a faint smile.
"My wife…"