She is not an investigator.

"He...he's different from those church people! He's the savior, the hero! You can't get close to him, only he can end all this! Only then will the witches be completely absolved of their sins!"

"…well."

The past is the past, and it always makes it so hard to make a decision.

Igoris probably already knows why playing with time is the most heinous crime.

From any perspective, what Igris did was to erase all the hope that had emerged during this period.

But Igris doesn't come from here; she comes from the future.

Therefore, she should also know what this place should be like, what should happen, and what shouldn't happen.

And... torrential rain.

Changing past suffering? It sounds like something only a saint would do.

But what is the cost?

Everything, fate has already marked its price in the shadows.

The gaps in time will only widen, and this hope, which originated from the past, will eventually be weighed down by the future with an even heavier burden.

If the watchmaker was the savior of the past, then he is the sinner of the future.

But one cannot live in the past, nor can one live in the future.

Therefore, the past influences the future, and the future also leads to the past.

So, what is the present?

Igris, who holds the truth in her hands, is here now.

"If you asked me to choose between the suffering people have experienced in the past and all the beauty that exists in the world I live in, guess what I would choose?"

"...You demon..."

"A demon?"

Igris didn't know, but she raised her sword and pointed it at the witch who was blocking her way.

She simply wanted to protect what she had, and everything that was actually happening around her.

Instead of this… vague and ethereal past.

The Gods' Folly - The Rainstorm: Chapter Forty-Seven, The Devil

"I don't know if killing you will have any negative impact on the future, but I do know that if I don't kill you, the future will definitely be even worse."

Igris held her straight sword level, facing the witch in front of her who was so nervous that she even began to tremble slightly.

She took a step, moving forward step by step.

“If you are really willing to step aside and stop interfering with what I want to do, then I will not try to kill a witch who might have some impact on the future.”

But when she decided to stand here, to stand on the opposite side of Igris, she had already made up her mind and was not prepared to back down.

"He will save everything...save people from suffering, including witches..."

Igris fell silent; her advice was not meant to be given to a witch who was already prepared to die.

Even though she was still trembling, terrified of death.

Without further hesitation, Igris strode forward, instantly closing the distance between herself and the witch.

A flicker of panic crossed the witch's eyes. She was clearly not good at fighting, but in this situation, there wasn't much she could actually do.

"Don't come any closer!"

The witch suddenly drew her wand, and a torrent of flames erupted, rushing straight towards Igris's face.

But it was so slow that Igris could almost easily dodge it.

There's no need for that.

She charged straight into the flames, her straight sword slashing unhesitatingly at her arm, extinguishing the still-burning fire at its source.

Pfft!

The sound of a sword piercing flesh rang out, the flames went out, and the witch in front of her fell to the ground, kneeling and clutching her lost arm.

The physical pain was far less devastating than the despair in her heart.

Igris came before her, and with a straight sword in her hand, she lifted Igris's chin, causing Igris to look at her with eyes full of sorrow and despair.

She looked at the flames, which had burned away the dried blood on her body, but had not harmed her in the slightest.

She was trembling, trembling with fear, trembling with anger.

But these emotions were not caused by her impending death; rather, they stemmed from a sense of despair and sorrow about the future.

In her view, the world's suffering and torment were about to disappear, and everyone would be able to live a happy life. But just when everything was about to end, this demon who crawled out of hell destroyed everything.

She has no pity for humanity, and turns a blind eye to all the suffering in the world. She simply wields the blade that represents death, taking away one life after another.

She was like those plagues, recklessly taking countless lives.

"I…!"

Pfft!

Igris plunged her sword into her neck, silencing the rest of her words.

Without a shred of pity, she kicked the corpse to the ground, flicked the blood off her sword, and looked toward the clock tower ahead.

She didn't want to hear anything the witch might say next, and judging from her expression just now... she was probably about to curse Igris.

So before that, Igris wouldn't mind killing her first.

"He clearly said he was here to be a hero... how did he turn into a villain?"

Perhaps it's because there's already a hero here.

Igris didn't know if this history would be recorded, but she wasn't worried, because it was highly unlikely.

Because she killed almost everyone she met, except Nolan.

But Nolan probably wouldn't be talking behind her back.

"Let's keep going."

Since we've already killed so many people, we don't care about killing a few more.

……

Countless residents gathered at the foot of the clock tower.

They were people who benefited from that forbidden knowledge, whose diseases were eradicated, and who regained their health.

Similarly, they were the clockmaker's most devoted followers, just like the blacksmith and the witch.

People in this era still hold great reverence for the gods, so it is only natural that in their eyes, the watchmaker who brings healing is a god.

And everyone who stands against him is a messenger of evil.

This also includes Igris and the Old Church.

This is why there are so many non-church people blocking the way to the bell tower, and why they are willing to stand with the witch.

But this has nothing to do with Igris, because she belongs to a third-party faction.

She kills anyone who blocks her way; it's that simple.

"Who's there! Stop right there! Don't come any closer!"

As Igris approached, they stood up and berated her.

She didn't care, dragging her straight sword, leaving a long trail in the muddy ground.

The crowd began to stir and become noisy, and they raised their weapons, such as machetes, axes, pitchforks, or boning knives.

They were just ordinary residents, living here without any combat experience.

Igris didn't want to kill them, because they could be anyone's ancestors, but...

They, however, also contracted the plague but were cured.

and so…

Igris raised the straight sword in her hand.

They should have died in this part of history.

"Charge!"

The passionate shouts spurred the crowd forward. Waving their weapons, they charged toward Igris, determined to kill the thugs before them and protect their new faith.

But seeing the people rushing towards her and the pitchforks coming at her, she raised her sword without hesitation.

Ding!

A crisp sound rang out along with the flying and falling pitchforks, and at the same time, a splash of blood appeared at the forefront of the crowd.

Seeing their companion's head severed from his body, they became even more enraged and rushed towards the figure almost frantically, but their weapons could not hit her even slightly.

Either she easily dodges them, or they are easily deflected by the weapon in her hand.

She wandered among the crowd, strolling leisurely and at ease.

But every time she walked around, there would be a few more corpses and a few more souls on the ground.

Gradually, her movements slowed down, and the sword in her hand began to droop slightly.

She was a little tired, but that didn't mean they had a chance.

"Devil...devil...!"

Pfft!

With her final strike, Igris killed the fleeing man on the spot, then sat wearily atop the pile of corpses.

She was tired, and the burden on her body made her increasingly prone to exhaustion and weakness.

The mental strain of licking blood was not enough for her to continue, and her mental excitement could not mask her exhaustion.

She needs rest, but she doesn't have enough time.

The dark clouds overhead are piling up, hopefully the downpour won't start anytime soon.