Nancy hadn't done anything wrong. What she said was a simple, inarguable fact. But in front of enraged villagers, such a weightless fact was void of any importance.
Whether she had done something or nothing, it was all the same to the villagers.
"Shut up! Heretic! Why are you the only one unscathed in the village?! Can you dare to say that you've nothing to do with this?!"
The roars swallowed up any chance for a defense. No need for rational, composed analysis or any sort of investigative proof. Just looking at the stern face of the church cleric was enough.
Even the clerics, who wield the power of the Mother Goddess, could not escape this plague. At a time when everyone was suffering from dizziness, nausea, or convulsions, a little girl was utterly unaffected, moving back and forth between the village and the mulberry forest. That was the reality witnessed by the villagers, a testament more potent than anything else.
