The Sponsored Heroines Are Coming for Me
Chapter 220
Rattling wooden floorboards.
Iron shackles bound to my feet.
A sealed magic circuit.
The transport carriage, equipped with numerous elaborate mechanisms, was ferrying criminals—or more precisely, the targets of a “witch hunt”.
“So… what’re you in for?”
The middle-aged man posing the question had a rather rough demeanor.
His attire was anything but ordinary: a priest’s robe dyed in a deep crimson.
It was likely clothing from a sect of a pseudo-religion, often labeled heretical.
Not quite the Bloodstone Cult, but similar practitioners of blood magic.
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