King of Fighters, I became Mai Shiranui's lifelong enemy

"Ah, yes, it's quite empty around here. I asked the others to wait on the plane."

"I have good news for you. I found another sister for you."

Liana: “???”

Come again?

Where do she get so many relatives?

......

Moonlight slanted in through the broken stained windows. Sharon was kneeling in the church, still cleaning up the mess.

Water slid down her pale cheeks and soaked the collar of her nun's uniform, which had already been stained.

The delicate fingers were cut by sharp fragments again and again.

As soon as blood oozed out of the wound, it healed in an instant.

"..."

She looked at her flawless fingers in silence.

"This is the power of the devil..."

"This is all my fault..."

This church was rebuilt with the help of everyone in the nearby town and became a place for spreading the gospel.

The stained glass windows donated by the old merchant, the altar cloth sewn by the peasant woman, and the pebbles picked up one by one by the innocent children were paved to form the road in front of the church...

And all the dedication of everyone was destroyed by her.

Every time she picked up a piece of glass, the stinging pain from her fingertips reminded her of the frightened eyes of the children who ran away during the day.

It was the first time she saw fear in the children's eyes.

It's all because of her power.

The children were afraid of her.

"Woo..."

Suppressed sobs echoed in the empty church. She tried desperately to wipe the scratches on the floor tiles, but her tears made the stains worse.

She knelt in the ruins, looking at her own hands - after all, she had brought about the destruction.

Sharan could only clasp her hands together again, close her eyes, repent and pray for her mistakes, and beg for God's forgiveness.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of chaotic footsteps and the crackling of torches in the distance.

She looked up blankly and saw through the broken stained windows that countless dancing torches were rushing towards the church.

Malice surged in along with the night wind.

"Burn the witch!"

"She was the one who caused the hurricane! She almost killed my son!"

“My daughter said her eyes glowed!”

"I told you she's not a proper nun. No nun would dress like that! I think she's a witch who specializes in seducing men!"

"It's horrible that we allowed the witch to live around us for so long!"

"Maybe my grandfather died of illness because of the curse she cast!"

The roar was getting closer.

Saran stood up trembling, the hem of her nun's dress sweeping across the undried bloodstains on the ground.

The moonlight shone on her pale face, and the blue eyes that always smiled were now full of fear and confusion.

"No...I'm not..."

She didn't understand why the villagers, who usually looked kind and gentle, suddenly became so ferocious and terrifying.

"I'm not a witch..."

Her defense was interrupted by a flying stone.

A sharp pain came from her forehead, and warm blood flowed down her cheek, blocking her vision.

The villagers had already rushed into the church, and the thick smoke from the torches had blackened the last intact angel wings on the stained glass window, making the black appearance even more like Satan in hell.

"I don't think this church is a legitimate one. It might even be a cult!"

"Yes, I know a bishop. He said this place has been abandoned for a long time. There are no other clergy except an old priest!"

"Burn them together! Burn this witch and the church to ashes!"

Saran stumbled back, her heel knocking over the square table she had just lifted up with great effort.

In the light of the torches, she saw the fear in everyone's eyes, which broke her heart more than hatred.

They are afraid, they are terrified.

Even though many of these people had watched her grow up and knew that she couldn't be a witch,

But because they feared this power, they did not mind pinning the blame of being a witch on her.

The farmer held up his pitchfork, his hands shaking: "Last month's storm... That's how my wife died..."

The aunt cried and threw the torch, setting the church on fire: "Why did you disguise yourself as a nun to deceive us!"

"Look, the wound on her head has healed. She's not human at all! She's a demon! A witch!"

Saran touched her forehead in confusion.

I found that the wound caused by the stone had now returned to smooth skin.

You're right... She is indeed not an ordinary person...

"I...I am..."

The strong wind blew up uncontrollably again, causing the flames of the torches to twist and dance wildly.

The villagers retreated in terror.

Sharan looked at her hands in despair. This was the power of the devil.

Chapter 232 Witch Hunt

Just like the witch hunts in the Middle Ages, Sharan, who displayed extraordinary powers, was tried as a witch by the villagers.

"Look! She's using her demonic powers again!"

"Be careful, tie her up first, and then push her to the stake."

The strongest blacksmith rushed over and tightened the rough hemp rope around her slender wrist.

Sharan did not resist and let them drag her to the pyre in the center of the square.

"No.....I'm...I'm Sharlane D'Agostino."

"I-I'm Sister Shallan."

Her eyes were dull and she was mumbling to herself, repeating her own name.

The black nun's hat fell to the ground, and her long golden hair spread out, covered with dirt and tears.

"I really don't..."

She stretched out her hand and looked toward the back of the crowd, where there were a few children who had sung in church during the day.

When disaster struck, several of them wanted to save her.

However, at this time.

"Burn her! Burn her!"

"She is no longer Sister Shalan. She has been possessed by a demon! That wind is the demon's power!"

The children waved their fists vigorously, condemning Sharan's crimes without any hesitation.

A month ago, in order to announce his arrival in front of the fighters and publicize the might of the Great Snake,

He prepared for a long time, mobilized the power of the snake in his body, and launched a skill called "Century Storm".

It consumes a lot of energy, takes a long time to prepare, has a large range, but is not very lethal.

This move may not cause any harm to fighters by causing a global hurricane, but it will be devastating to ordinary people.

Farmland was destroyed, factories were damaged, human settlements were hit, and many people died in the storm.

No one in the world is spared.

Many people in the town lost their loved ones and friends forever because of this "storm of the century".

Many people haven't gotten over their grief yet.

And now, Sister Sharan, who was stationed in the town, also unleashed this devilish power and nearly killed dozens of children.

How could adults not be angry?

There was a strange light in the children's eyes.

"Oh!"

Those little hands that should have been used for reading, writing, and playing the piano were now clenching sharp stones and smashing them at Sharan without mercy.

"demon!"

"go to hell!"

"Give me back my sister nun!"

Blood slid down Sharan's cheeks and dripped onto her white legs, leaving bright colors.

She didn't dodge, but just closed her eyes with a slight tremor, allowing more debris to hit her shoulders, arms and knees.

Every wound was burning with pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain of my heart being torn apart.

The wound caused by the stone was healing visibly, which further confirmed the witch's guilt.

This body is indeed abnormal.

She was numb too.

If she died like this, would she still be qualified to serve the Lord?

"Enough!" The old mayor pushed through the crowd, "Execute immediately!"

The firewood pile gave off a pungent smell of pine resin, mixed with the frightened sweat of the villagers.

When the rough wooden stakes touched her back, she suddenly realized how beautiful the night sky was.

When she was a child, she loved looking at the stars in the sky, watching the sunrise and the moonset. She loved everything about nature.

"Before I light the fire..." Her voice was so soft it sounded like a sigh, "Can I pray for the children one last time?"

The answer she got was kerosene poured over her.

The cold liquid soaked into the blue nun's uniform.

The moment the torch cut through the night sky, she burst into tears.

"I'm sorry..." The hot tears fell on the firewood pile, "I'm really sorry..."

The pile of firewood covered with kerosene caught fire immediately. The burning waves distorted the air and Sharan's vision gradually blurred.

She lowered her head, her consciousness gradually becoming blurred. She seemed to hear the children's singing in the distance, and seemed to hear the Lord's call.

Then, a crack was torn in the flames.

A slender figure walked over on the waves of fire, the soles of his boots crushing the burning firewood, and sparks flew like fireflies.

His silhouette swayed slightly in the heat wave, yet he was incredibly calm, as if even the flames were afraid of his presence.

Sharan raised her eyes with difficulty. In her blurred vision, the man's face looked particularly gentle under the firelight.

He reached out and brushed his fingertips through her blood-stained blonde hair, his movements so light that it felt like he was caressing his lover.

"You..." Her voice was hoarse, her throat sore from the smoke, "Are you a messenger sent by the Lord...?"

The man did not answer, but just held her gently in his arms.