Have you ever had such hatred for someone that you develop a sixth sense that makes you feel when they are near?
I have, no... it's like a feeling deep within my own soul that tells me, the witch is near.
The burnt village smelled of lightning and thunder, and the battalion's corpses were laid to waste in that arena of blood.
Hands were removed from the soldiers. No fed to something. And so were their private parts. Either fed to a rat or some entity unknown to us.
How can the witch and her comrades do such a cruel act? I felt anger searing through my heart.
"Damn that woman, that evil witch! Scout the nearby area. And Cinderella, find and heal the survivors," I commanded the army.
I know they won't find her. No, she is meant to be found by me.
The army scattered within the nearby areas but I galloped across the river in the middle of the night. I know exactly where she is.
