The Correction System (BL)

C15≫ Denses and Dogs Don't get along. (II)

The Priest and the Witch XV
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While the blade retested on her neck, Karin mormentery fell into into twisted sense of nostalgia. You see, that dangerous feeling she was feeling right now reminded her of the first time she saw her dear beloved.

It was a rainy day, with droplets of water rainy down on the earth like bullets. On this day, she lay hidden dangerously close to the masterpiece of a ambush she instigated, but sadly the main actor, Rowan, didn't show. Knowing that her plan failed, Karin's mood immediately plummeted, she was about to leave when someone caught her eye. Amidst the mud and dirt, she watched from the distance as a stunningly handsome man rode in on a horse, a battalion of priests riding not far behind him. Finally stopping, the man pointed at the witches and announced their arrival to the battlefield. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, the man the continued by opening his mouth to create a beautiful melody, one that made one truly captivated.

The results of the beautiful melody were more glamorous than what she could've ever imagined.

As the last sound left the man's lips, the opposition the priest were facing, her previous comrades, shook heavily as they fell to the ground. Many of them who couldn't withstand the assault of holy power from the spell hymn directed towards them started bleeding from every inch of their body, slowly turning into a useless mindless pile of flesh.

The man whose hair was as red as the blood that bloomed forth hesitated as he saw that sight, maybe he had never seen this spell actually in action. But that hesitation only lasted for a second, he still remembered his duty and ushered another song from his lips along, commanding his subordinates to go forward.

After all, the witches in front of him were not 'human'.

At least now the Priests didn't recognize them as 'human'. The church did teach them all their lives that they were only demons in the same skin as them.

But then something happened, the thing that started to shake the man.

"Monster!" A witch screamed with emotions the man recognized.

Fear. Despair. Horror.

Very human like emotions.

As the man stilled his horse, another torrent of howls came crashing down as if the previous one opened a large damn.

Various shouts could be heard, begging, cursing, some were even just incomprehensible pained groans let out by the witches that were dying or lost a loved one.

"Demons!" "Heartless!" "Save us!" "please let us live!" "Spare us!" "Evil! "Devil!"

Constant jeers and cry's entered the mans ears like the sharpest of swords, making the man who was raised and always believed that witches were heartless things confused. As the man stayed still, the priests at his command finally reached the frontier of the witches troop and started manically cutting down the remaining survivors ushering another wave of blood.

It didn't take long for the battlefield to turn to chaos.

As more and more corpses littered the grounds, in utter shock, the man got down from his horse, his somewhat glazed over eyes looking around in confusion. As he dizzily staggered forward, he gazed at the people who were groaning in pain and missing body parts that still continued to cry for their lives or beg the opposing party to spare the lives of their comrades.

At this point, both witch and priest were doing the exact same thing, wanting to live.

Unable to take the stress the man keeled over and emptied the contents of his stomach on to the ground. The smell of iron and brunt flesh spread through the battlefield as the man roughly wiped his mouth.