MakBow
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So, I've finally written mt first chapter after my break, how are we thinking:
(Just to clarify, he isn't the MC, just a person from the past who is related to the MC)
Prologue
“Burn the witch!”
“Burn the witch!”
“Burn the witch!”
The shouts and outrageous cries of many echoed across the town as Alexander Osmot sipped on his expensive wine, sitting in his expensive couch station near the window for him to see outside, watching as the citizens of the town chanted while lifting their torches and pitchforks to the sky.
He was an adult man with a few wrinkles to his skin by this point, with smooth silver hair and black eyes, dressed in his expensive clothes, which had cost a fortune to make.
He took a whiff of his wine once again, leaning back in his chair, gazing around his room, which had been decorated for his personal interest.
The walls were decorated with the very tools he had used to hunt witches. Silver spears, crossbows, black charcoal that is used for burning witches, and many pictures taken of him slaying witches. One caught his eye, mainly the one where he killed his first ever witch, having claimed its head for himself.
“Sigh, well, I’ve gotten this far ever since I’ve been brought to this world. It’s still so insane to actually be in a world of magic. It’s unfortunate that only witches can use magic. If I could use it, it would be so much easier to establish a city. There has been so much conflict in the other regions. I was lucky to be able to get the central region and cut it off from the other ones. Why am I thinking of this now? I finally managed to catch that accursed witch that has been causing so many of my problems.”
His mind wandered off into the past, recalling that day when he captured the witch.
…
“God damn it! Fall back! Fall back!” Alexander cried, running away with his troupes as a storm of fire headed in their direction. They managed to get behind a tree, safe for now, but the witch didn’t stop, advancing towards them with flaming hair and flaring orange eyes.
“Stay away from me!” She roared, using the flames to coat herself in fire and protect herself.
“That damn witch.” Alexander loaded his crossbow with a silver arrow, panting heavily as he felt his armor. It had been severely damaged, feeling it was on the verge of melting into his skin. He had been scouring the entire central region for her, checking every corner and edge of this place, managing to finally catch her, yet she dared to fight back.
She had cooked their horses, destroyed their carriages, turned their food into molten, leaving them with nothing but a few silver weapons to fight back.
“My lord!” His ally shouted, looking over at him with a concerned expression.
“I will distract her! You deal with her!”
“What!? Hell no! I will not—” Alexander was cut off mid-sentence when the witch fired at them again, forcing them to run as many threw water in her direction.
“Ahhhh!” She cried in agony as the withdrawal from the sudden cooling got to her. “Stooooop!” She roared, unleashing a giant tornado of fire that took the entire grassland, creating a space similar to what many could call the fiery pits of hell.
The fire had created silhouettes in the flames that made Alexander see devil horns on the girl, only fitting his belief that witches were the daughters of the devil.
“Sir!” The man shouted, meeting eyes with Alexander Osmot as he gazed back, hesitation keeping him in a chokehold, not wanting to sacrifice a comrade. “Please…”
“....Sir William. Do it.” He uttered, crying, their entire friendship flashing back in the blink of an eye as he watched his friend rush into the flames, traumatizing himself as his friend was attacked.
“You! Leave me alone!” With each step, his humanity was lost layer by layer. It was the skin, to the muscles, to near the bones, pushing through the agony he experienced and lunging towards the witch, stabbing her in the ankle.
She cried and screamed, stumbling to the ground. She used her power and burned William to ash, making him suffer in his final moment.
It was as if the flames sparked a new fire when Alexander aimed his crossbow, firing it right through the witch’s head, but he was aware that it would not kill her. Witches could only be killed by either decapitation through a silver weapon or burning them under flames sparked using charcoal.
…
As he returned to the present day, he gazed at a picture of his old friend, a single tear falling into the cup. It was then that the doors opened to his room, and his government aide came to meet with him. He was a middle-aged man dressed in a clean purple robe.
“The people wish to hear your final verdict. They’re causing a ruckus, and the knights are trying their hardest to not to harm anyone while keeping them back.”
“....I know. I’ve already set up a route to the Western Region. I don’t want her near this place. I will announce it.”
Alexander stood up, using a cane to help himself around the castle, walking past all the pictures and paintings plastered on the halls of himself killing witches and either holding their heads or standing by their charred bodies before disintegration.
When he reached the balcony, he opened the glass door, and standing before everyone, they would go silent upon seeing him exit his castle to meet them all face to face.
“I do not wish to hear any more noise. Need not worry! The witch shall be burned on the large tree in the western region!”
His voice carried a sweetness so uplifting that everyone couldn’t help but lift their torches and pitchforks to his words, feeling strong hope from his words that lifted their spirits.
“Get the witch from the dungeon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alexander walked back inside the castle, taking a deep breath, feeling that something was off.
“...weird. It must be her. She must be trying to influence me somehow. I won’t let her.” After calming himself, he went to his wardrobe and put on his attire, the one he had specifically made for the day he caught the witch of the flames.
Sitting in the carriage with a silver tool and his beautiful wife and daughter by his side, he watched as the other villagers mounted the carts that were made for them to enter for free. He was generous enough to allow everyone here to witness the execution, and he would make the greatest visual spectacle ever.
“Honey, do you intend to retire after you burn that thing?”
“Daddy’s going to retire? I’m finally going to spend time with him?”
He smirked as he rubbed his daughter’s head, relief on his mind as he pondered that thought.
He had trained many individuals in how to hunt witches and used his understanding of business before his reincarnation to sell it to the masses, who also wished to hunt witches and get rid of them. It was these funds that allowed him to build the castle, and with his wife, he could finally have a daughter who was 9 years old.
Knights bearing silver spears would march with the witch in tow, restrained by silver binding that prevented her from using her powers, and with a blindfold, she was unable to see as all the villagers shouted insults and the most disgusting slurs one could think of.
Alexander’s wife covered her daughter’s ears so as to prevent her from hearing what they were saying, and even Alexander felt they were being a little too barbaric.
“Get in there, witch!” The man shoved her into the silver cage, locking it tight and covering it with a blanket, not allowing her to even faintly see the moonlight.
After the knights took their seats around the cage, with another knight at the front, their journey began to the western region.
The place they intended to burn her was known as the Great Tree, a giant tree that many love to say allows one to connect to the spirit world, but all of that was a rumor.
He rested his elbow on the side of the carriage, placing a blanket over his legs where his daughter was currently asleep, as well as his wife.
For a moment, Alexander Osmot enjoyed the small space they had to themselves. He recalled when he was little, way before reincarnation, when he liked to imagine himself in rather small spaces, not too cramped and just small enough, rubbing himself in his blanket with everything he needed.
This thought manifested a faint smile on his face, recalling his childhood with satisfaction as he entered his 50s.
Just then, Alexander noticed something in the distance: the Southern Region and its barren land.
“It seems like it’s still poisonous. I don’t think in my lifetime I will be able to enter the land. I wish I could have brought my son with me, but… I wish I could have a better relationship with him.”
Looking over at his wife and daughter, the same uneasy feeling overcame him once again, like a warning of sorts.
‘That damn witch and her tricks. I won’t fall for it.’ He glared over to the cage at the front, clenching his fist in anger. It was a feeling that had started ever since he first began hunting the witch. It was a feeling that seemed like a warning or a threat to him, believing the witch was trying to influence him to prevent him from killing her, but he would not allow that, especially after what she did to William 2 days ago.
However, today was the day to kill her and light up the night in celebration of her death.
They had finally reached their destination after a 3-hour journey, reaching the tree that would appear as big as a house from modern times. The darkness would make it appear even more menacing than it actually was, a sight that even the witch began to fear even more as she gazed upon the tree.
She began to tremble, but no one spared any sympathy for her, only cruel, wicked thoughts that could expose just how wicked humans were.
Sitting by the side, Alexander Osmot watched with his daughter and wife as the knights tied the witch to the tree, setting up the charcoal given by the church, and the members of the church blessed the land to prevent any demonic influence.
“My lord, it is time.” The knight spoke with heavy words, overwhelmed by a sense of dread. Just being near this witch made him scared.
“I understand.”
Alexander Osmot pulled out the utensil he brought with him in the cart. It was a tool meant for extraction, and he used it to rip out the hearts of witches, mocking them before destroying those hearts.
After all, there were two ways to kill witches: either by decapitation or by destroying their hearts. It was something he learned over the years of killing witches most of his life, once he reincarnated.
As he stood before the witch, he turned his back, looking to everyone who had gathered today and was celebrating the capture of this vile witch who had tormented them for years.
“Everyone…today…is a day for us to celebrate. For 10 years, my allies and I have hunted down this thing, causing us great torment. It ruined our water, created the demon beasts, and burned down our lands, killing our children. No more.” Alexander turned to the witch, looking down at her with disdain, grabbing the collar that covered her body. “Look at you now. A witch without power is but something even lesser...than a woman.”
To add insult to injury, he stripped her by ripping off the only piece of fabric that covered her body, humiliating her in front of a crowd. All the men and women would mock her body, call her tits small, curves non-existent, yet some would go as far as to call her a whore, a shrew, a wench, and all sorts of insults against a woman.
Forced to bear the insults, she began to cry, a face filled with anger mixed with sadness as tears flooded her eyes. She ground her teeth in anger as she glared at Alexander, wanting nothing more than his despair.
Alexander Osmot spared nothing for her, only giving her a cold, soulless gaze one would give to a thing, maybe even a wild animal.
Without further delay, he dropped the torch he held in his hand onto the special charcoal. It was with this that they would see a spectacle that would be engraved into their mushy brains.
All would stare in awe and glee as the witch's screams plunged into their minds like a beautiful melody. She was corroded in flames that burned away at her skin, shaking violently as the flames overtook her, burning through her oxygen and halting her regeneration.
“You bastard humans! I will curse this entire land! I will not let you live in peace! I will make sure your entire bloodline suffers for your mistake!” Her final cry erupted as the flames that engulfed her had, for a beautiful moment, transformed into something even worse than a devil, engulfing the entire tree at a rapid speed that would not be possible without magic.
It was then that the chilling sense overwhelmed Alexander Osmot, almost causing him to drop to his knees. He marched up to her, plunging the device into her chest and pulling out her heart before it could be burned as a final mockery, holding it to her face as everyone began to pack up and leave, a smirk of relief on his face.
...
It was years after that day, and Alexander had been on his deathbed, now a fragile old man with his son and daughter by his side, smiling as he slowly closed his eyes.
“I’m glad…I was able to do well enough for you both… Continue my bloodline and the ways of witch hunts. Those things will not stay away, so you must continue, no matter what.”
“Yes, father.” His daughter said.
“....I understand father.” His son said, being far more hesitant in his words.
In the end, as he drifted into the darkness, he felt himself fall into an unknown abyss that would slowly turn into a white space, and Alexander, once an old man, now looked like a young adult, naked.
He opened his eyes to this place, recalling this world once again, the land between the physical world and the spirit world, limbo.
“Never thought I would be back here.”
“Is that surprising?” Another voice spoke, one echoing and masculine. Alexander turned his head to see a white being with a built man form, possessing no eyes, only a nose and mouth.
“Human God. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Indeed, it is. You’d better be grateful I have given you this second chance at life.”
“I am. What happens now, though? I’ve passed away, I’ve lived a good life.”
“Well, usually, the soul enters the cycle of reincarnation, as the afterlife does not exist. All they can do is enter the Spirit World, in which they are essentially recycled to be reborn once again.”
“...I see. So Alexander Osmot will be erased, but I will still be here. That doesn’t sound too bad. I can live a different life each time.”
The smile on Human God’s face faded as he heard his friend say those words.
“...Not you.”
“...what?”
“You do not belong to this world; as such, you cannot follow the same rules.”
“...w-what? Then what will happen to me?”
“The same that happened to every other human that was brought from a different world here. They remain in limbo forever, their souls unable to leave.”
Hearing those words, Alexander’s entire reality slowly crumbled as he realized he would spend the rest of his life in this empty void with nothing to do.
“N-No. Then I can’t…”
“I’m sorry. The other worlders are here as well, within their own domains, as they watch Earth develop; that’s the least I can do.”
Alexander was silent for an entire week, never moving, scrolling through every last one of his memories on repeat over and over again.
Only after that long did he accept Human God’s deal and rest in his own Domain, watching from space as he watched the planet develop. He could even see the reincarnation of his wife already, being the daughter of his daughter.
It felt so cursing.
He could have been with his wife, especially when he saw his daughter also have a twin son.
‘That could have been me.’
(Just to clarify, he isn't the MC, just a person from the past who is related to the MC)
Prologue
“Burn the witch!”
“Burn the witch!”
“Burn the witch!”
The shouts and outrageous cries of many echoed across the town as Alexander Osmot sipped on his expensive wine, sitting in his expensive couch station near the window for him to see outside, watching as the citizens of the town chanted while lifting their torches and pitchforks to the sky.
He was an adult man with a few wrinkles to his skin by this point, with smooth silver hair and black eyes, dressed in his expensive clothes, which had cost a fortune to make.
He took a whiff of his wine once again, leaning back in his chair, gazing around his room, which had been decorated for his personal interest.
The walls were decorated with the very tools he had used to hunt witches. Silver spears, crossbows, black charcoal that is used for burning witches, and many pictures taken of him slaying witches. One caught his eye, mainly the one where he killed his first ever witch, having claimed its head for himself.
“Sigh, well, I’ve gotten this far ever since I’ve been brought to this world. It’s still so insane to actually be in a world of magic. It’s unfortunate that only witches can use magic. If I could use it, it would be so much easier to establish a city. There has been so much conflict in the other regions. I was lucky to be able to get the central region and cut it off from the other ones. Why am I thinking of this now? I finally managed to catch that accursed witch that has been causing so many of my problems.”
His mind wandered off into the past, recalling that day when he captured the witch.
…
“God damn it! Fall back! Fall back!” Alexander cried, running away with his troupes as a storm of fire headed in their direction. They managed to get behind a tree, safe for now, but the witch didn’t stop, advancing towards them with flaming hair and flaring orange eyes.
“Stay away from me!” She roared, using the flames to coat herself in fire and protect herself.
“That damn witch.” Alexander loaded his crossbow with a silver arrow, panting heavily as he felt his armor. It had been severely damaged, feeling it was on the verge of melting into his skin. He had been scouring the entire central region for her, checking every corner and edge of this place, managing to finally catch her, yet she dared to fight back.
She had cooked their horses, destroyed their carriages, turned their food into molten, leaving them with nothing but a few silver weapons to fight back.
“My lord!” His ally shouted, looking over at him with a concerned expression.
“I will distract her! You deal with her!”
“What!? Hell no! I will not—” Alexander was cut off mid-sentence when the witch fired at them again, forcing them to run as many threw water in her direction.
“Ahhhh!” She cried in agony as the withdrawal from the sudden cooling got to her. “Stooooop!” She roared, unleashing a giant tornado of fire that took the entire grassland, creating a space similar to what many could call the fiery pits of hell.
The fire had created silhouettes in the flames that made Alexander see devil horns on the girl, only fitting his belief that witches were the daughters of the devil.
“Sir!” The man shouted, meeting eyes with Alexander Osmot as he gazed back, hesitation keeping him in a chokehold, not wanting to sacrifice a comrade. “Please…”
“....Sir William. Do it.” He uttered, crying, their entire friendship flashing back in the blink of an eye as he watched his friend rush into the flames, traumatizing himself as his friend was attacked.
“You! Leave me alone!” With each step, his humanity was lost layer by layer. It was the skin, to the muscles, to near the bones, pushing through the agony he experienced and lunging towards the witch, stabbing her in the ankle.
She cried and screamed, stumbling to the ground. She used her power and burned William to ash, making him suffer in his final moment.
It was as if the flames sparked a new fire when Alexander aimed his crossbow, firing it right through the witch’s head, but he was aware that it would not kill her. Witches could only be killed by either decapitation through a silver weapon or burning them under flames sparked using charcoal.
…
As he returned to the present day, he gazed at a picture of his old friend, a single tear falling into the cup. It was then that the doors opened to his room, and his government aide came to meet with him. He was a middle-aged man dressed in a clean purple robe.
“The people wish to hear your final verdict. They’re causing a ruckus, and the knights are trying their hardest to not to harm anyone while keeping them back.”
“....I know. I’ve already set up a route to the Western Region. I don’t want her near this place. I will announce it.”
Alexander stood up, using a cane to help himself around the castle, walking past all the pictures and paintings plastered on the halls of himself killing witches and either holding their heads or standing by their charred bodies before disintegration.
When he reached the balcony, he opened the glass door, and standing before everyone, they would go silent upon seeing him exit his castle to meet them all face to face.
“I do not wish to hear any more noise. Need not worry! The witch shall be burned on the large tree in the western region!”
His voice carried a sweetness so uplifting that everyone couldn’t help but lift their torches and pitchforks to his words, feeling strong hope from his words that lifted their spirits.
“Get the witch from the dungeon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alexander walked back inside the castle, taking a deep breath, feeling that something was off.
“...weird. It must be her. She must be trying to influence me somehow. I won’t let her.” After calming himself, he went to his wardrobe and put on his attire, the one he had specifically made for the day he caught the witch of the flames.
Sitting in the carriage with a silver tool and his beautiful wife and daughter by his side, he watched as the other villagers mounted the carts that were made for them to enter for free. He was generous enough to allow everyone here to witness the execution, and he would make the greatest visual spectacle ever.
“Honey, do you intend to retire after you burn that thing?”
“Daddy’s going to retire? I’m finally going to spend time with him?”
He smirked as he rubbed his daughter’s head, relief on his mind as he pondered that thought.
He had trained many individuals in how to hunt witches and used his understanding of business before his reincarnation to sell it to the masses, who also wished to hunt witches and get rid of them. It was these funds that allowed him to build the castle, and with his wife, he could finally have a daughter who was 9 years old.
Knights bearing silver spears would march with the witch in tow, restrained by silver binding that prevented her from using her powers, and with a blindfold, she was unable to see as all the villagers shouted insults and the most disgusting slurs one could think of.
Alexander’s wife covered her daughter’s ears so as to prevent her from hearing what they were saying, and even Alexander felt they were being a little too barbaric.
“Get in there, witch!” The man shoved her into the silver cage, locking it tight and covering it with a blanket, not allowing her to even faintly see the moonlight.
After the knights took their seats around the cage, with another knight at the front, their journey began to the western region.
The place they intended to burn her was known as the Great Tree, a giant tree that many love to say allows one to connect to the spirit world, but all of that was a rumor.
He rested his elbow on the side of the carriage, placing a blanket over his legs where his daughter was currently asleep, as well as his wife.
For a moment, Alexander Osmot enjoyed the small space they had to themselves. He recalled when he was little, way before reincarnation, when he liked to imagine himself in rather small spaces, not too cramped and just small enough, rubbing himself in his blanket with everything he needed.
This thought manifested a faint smile on his face, recalling his childhood with satisfaction as he entered his 50s.
Just then, Alexander noticed something in the distance: the Southern Region and its barren land.
“It seems like it’s still poisonous. I don’t think in my lifetime I will be able to enter the land. I wish I could have brought my son with me, but… I wish I could have a better relationship with him.”
Looking over at his wife and daughter, the same uneasy feeling overcame him once again, like a warning of sorts.
‘That damn witch and her tricks. I won’t fall for it.’ He glared over to the cage at the front, clenching his fist in anger. It was a feeling that had started ever since he first began hunting the witch. It was a feeling that seemed like a warning or a threat to him, believing the witch was trying to influence him to prevent him from killing her, but he would not allow that, especially after what she did to William 2 days ago.
However, today was the day to kill her and light up the night in celebration of her death.
They had finally reached their destination after a 3-hour journey, reaching the tree that would appear as big as a house from modern times. The darkness would make it appear even more menacing than it actually was, a sight that even the witch began to fear even more as she gazed upon the tree.
She began to tremble, but no one spared any sympathy for her, only cruel, wicked thoughts that could expose just how wicked humans were.
Sitting by the side, Alexander Osmot watched with his daughter and wife as the knights tied the witch to the tree, setting up the charcoal given by the church, and the members of the church blessed the land to prevent any demonic influence.
“My lord, it is time.” The knight spoke with heavy words, overwhelmed by a sense of dread. Just being near this witch made him scared.
“I understand.”
Alexander Osmot pulled out the utensil he brought with him in the cart. It was a tool meant for extraction, and he used it to rip out the hearts of witches, mocking them before destroying those hearts.
After all, there were two ways to kill witches: either by decapitation or by destroying their hearts. It was something he learned over the years of killing witches most of his life, once he reincarnated.
As he stood before the witch, he turned his back, looking to everyone who had gathered today and was celebrating the capture of this vile witch who had tormented them for years.
“Everyone…today…is a day for us to celebrate. For 10 years, my allies and I have hunted down this thing, causing us great torment. It ruined our water, created the demon beasts, and burned down our lands, killing our children. No more.” Alexander turned to the witch, looking down at her with disdain, grabbing the collar that covered her body. “Look at you now. A witch without power is but something even lesser...than a woman.”
To add insult to injury, he stripped her by ripping off the only piece of fabric that covered her body, humiliating her in front of a crowd. All the men and women would mock her body, call her tits small, curves non-existent, yet some would go as far as to call her a whore, a shrew, a wench, and all sorts of insults against a woman.
Forced to bear the insults, she began to cry, a face filled with anger mixed with sadness as tears flooded her eyes. She ground her teeth in anger as she glared at Alexander, wanting nothing more than his despair.
Alexander Osmot spared nothing for her, only giving her a cold, soulless gaze one would give to a thing, maybe even a wild animal.
Without further delay, he dropped the torch he held in his hand onto the special charcoal. It was with this that they would see a spectacle that would be engraved into their mushy brains.
All would stare in awe and glee as the witch's screams plunged into their minds like a beautiful melody. She was corroded in flames that burned away at her skin, shaking violently as the flames overtook her, burning through her oxygen and halting her regeneration.
“You bastard humans! I will curse this entire land! I will not let you live in peace! I will make sure your entire bloodline suffers for your mistake!” Her final cry erupted as the flames that engulfed her had, for a beautiful moment, transformed into something even worse than a devil, engulfing the entire tree at a rapid speed that would not be possible without magic.
It was then that the chilling sense overwhelmed Alexander Osmot, almost causing him to drop to his knees. He marched up to her, plunging the device into her chest and pulling out her heart before it could be burned as a final mockery, holding it to her face as everyone began to pack up and leave, a smirk of relief on his face.
...
It was years after that day, and Alexander had been on his deathbed, now a fragile old man with his son and daughter by his side, smiling as he slowly closed his eyes.
“I’m glad…I was able to do well enough for you both… Continue my bloodline and the ways of witch hunts. Those things will not stay away, so you must continue, no matter what.”
“Yes, father.” His daughter said.
“....I understand father.” His son said, being far more hesitant in his words.
In the end, as he drifted into the darkness, he felt himself fall into an unknown abyss that would slowly turn into a white space, and Alexander, once an old man, now looked like a young adult, naked.
He opened his eyes to this place, recalling this world once again, the land between the physical world and the spirit world, limbo.
“Never thought I would be back here.”
“Is that surprising?” Another voice spoke, one echoing and masculine. Alexander turned his head to see a white being with a built man form, possessing no eyes, only a nose and mouth.
“Human God. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Indeed, it is. You’d better be grateful I have given you this second chance at life.”
“I am. What happens now, though? I’ve passed away, I’ve lived a good life.”
“Well, usually, the soul enters the cycle of reincarnation, as the afterlife does not exist. All they can do is enter the Spirit World, in which they are essentially recycled to be reborn once again.”
“...I see. So Alexander Osmot will be erased, but I will still be here. That doesn’t sound too bad. I can live a different life each time.”
The smile on Human God’s face faded as he heard his friend say those words.
“...Not you.”
“...what?”
“You do not belong to this world; as such, you cannot follow the same rules.”
“...w-what? Then what will happen to me?”
“The same that happened to every other human that was brought from a different world here. They remain in limbo forever, their souls unable to leave.”
Hearing those words, Alexander’s entire reality slowly crumbled as he realized he would spend the rest of his life in this empty void with nothing to do.
“N-No. Then I can’t…”
“I’m sorry. The other worlders are here as well, within their own domains, as they watch Earth develop; that’s the least I can do.”
Alexander was silent for an entire week, never moving, scrolling through every last one of his memories on repeat over and over again.
Only after that long did he accept Human God’s deal and rest in his own Domain, watching from space as he watched the planet develop. He could even see the reincarnation of his wife already, being the daughter of his daughter.
It felt so cursing.
He could have been with his wife, especially when he saw his daughter also have a twin son.
‘That could have been me.’
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