This fanfiction was written by a reader named Konstantin XIII and tells the story of Gregory. I took a look and realized it was missing a lot of content, so I added a few thousand words. The original is free, but the part I wrote counts as VIP chapters.
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**Chapter One**
“Ahhhhhh!!!”
The burning sparks drifting in the air illuminated the dark sky, and through the billowing smoke, Gregory heard the increasingly weak screams of the figure bound to the pyre engulfed in flames.
The crowd surrounding the scene of this execution was whispering amongst themselves, the fragments of their hushed voices wafting through the smoky haze. As Gregory moved, he realized that the discussions happening behind him were intentionally hushed.
He snorted coldly, then tossed his long red robe and turned to leave, making way through the crowd that parted instinctively.
As he approached, the crowd on either side shrank back, closing their mouths and looking at him with fearful and reverent expressions.
Gregory kept his gaze straight ahead, taking firm steps through the silent crowd.
He had long grown accustomed to such distant stares.
Years had gone by; he had aged. Since ascending to his high position, he had grown too lazy to care or to guess what these common people truly thought.
Gregory could not halt his march, one that was beyond the understanding of the world, even if every step crushed another charred skull beneath his feet. Nothing could stop him.
Because in this world, there were still too many evils that remained unpurified by fire. He was still mired in his old grievances and blood feuds, unable to extricate himself.
When Gregory reached the end of the street, he suddenly noticed a small boy, dirty-faced and curious, standing on tiptoe behind the crowd, peering toward the pyre with a shepherd’s staff in hand.
From the boy’s wide eyes, Gregory could see the flickering reflection of the flames.
The light illuminated the youthful face of the shepherd boy, revealing his stunned expression, causing Gregory’s breath to hitch, and he could not help but pause.
“Child, come here.” Gregory waved his hand, beckoning the shepherd boy.
Startled by the call, the boy shrank back, gripping his shepherd’s staff tightly and glancing around as if he were a caught little thief.
“This way.” Gregory tried to calm his tone, attempting not to frighten the shepherd boy.
The small boy was taken aback to see that it was the red-robed archbishop who beckoned him, and his mouth fell open in surprise.
He trembled as he approached Gregory, lowering his head respectfully and saying, “Sir, may I ask what you need me for?”
Gregory studied the boy solemnly and pointed to the burning pyre in the square. “Child, what do you see here?”
His rather calm voice dissipated into the dimness, attracting curious glances from those nearby.
The shepherd boy looked in the direction Gregory indicated, and the terrifying scene from earlier returned to him, leaving him puzzled as he scratched his head.
“A heretic being burned?” the boy ventured tentatively.
“No.” Gregory shook his head calmly.
“Look not at the figure in the flames, but at the people surrounding him: the clergy, the inquisitors, the nobles of the city, and the watching common folk.”
Gregory fixed his gaze on the small boy and gently asked, “What do you see in them?”
The boy remained silent, shaking his head in confusion.
“They are the ones who can determine the fate of the country,” Gregory said, his expression growing more determined.
“Whether for them or for us.” He pointed to himself and then to the shepherd boy, “This is not the execution of a heretic.”
“Then what is it?” the boy pressed.
“Self-purification.” Gregory sighed deeply as he stared at the charred body bound to the stake. “For the ancient warnings to remain ever more resolute, someone must pay the price.”
The boy followed Gregory’s gaze to the square and turned back to ask, “What kind of person should pay the price?”
“The price…”
Gregory murmured the word, looking into the boy’s once bright eyes, now glistening with light from the fire; it was as if he saw his former self reflected in them.
“In the past, I was like you, a shepherd boy, just a shepherd boy. I once paid the price for my ignorance and foolishness.”
Gregory forced a bitter smile, gripping the boy’s shoulder.
“For a long time, every night, I would have the same two dreams. One was a golden wheat field swaying in the wind, where flocks of white sheep rested like clouds descending from the sky onto the verdant grass; the other was bright flames, trampling hooves, and deafening screams…”
“It is this price that has sustained me to today…” He said, clenching his hands tightly, “God, I am guilty.”
**Chapter Two: The Red-Haired Mature Woman**
On a misty morning, the shepherd boy Gregory was hurriedly crossing a ridge with his wooden staff.
What should have been just another day of shepherding turned into a frenzy as Gregory had inadvertently lost a lamb from the flock.
He searched the paths he had just traversed, realizing the only possible place the lamb could have wandered off to was the thicket beside the ridge he had just climbed.
Gasping for breath, Gregory climbed to the top of the hill.
“Ha…ha…”
As he panted heavily, preparing to dive into the woods to search, he suddenly heard a faint bleat from behind the trees.
Rustling came from the bushes as they swayed and shook.
Gregory was stunned as he gazed at the figure emerging from behind the trees, momentarily dropping the staff from his hands.
A mature woman with wavy, dense red hair, dressed in ragged black robes, stepped gracefully from the thicket, cradling his lost lamb in her arms.
Her low-cut dress revealed delicate collarbones and milky skin, harmonizing with the lamb in her arms, creating an air of mysterious beauty that left Gregory captivated for a moment.
“Mind your sheep!” This beautiful woman, reminiscent of a fallen princess, walked directly to Gregory, shoving the lamb into his stunned hands before turning to leave.
“Baa…” The lamb nestled in Gregory’s grip bleated, calling out for the woman who was leaving, which jolted Gregory back to reality.
“Please wait!” He, catching the lingering scent, hurriedly chased after her, calling out, “Miss… thank you for your help, may I have the honor of knowing your name?”
The woman paused, turned back, and flashed a smile at Gregory.
In that moment, Gregory felt as if all the flowers in the fields were blooming in the warm spring air.
“My name is Vichina, for now,” the red-haired woman said playfully, winking her sparkling eyes at Gregory.
Gregory’s gaze darted shyly over Vichina, noticing a blood-red band of cloth tied around one of her arms.
“Oh! You’re injured!” Gregory exclaimed. “You’ve lost so much blood; you should hurry to the village to get checked!”
He feigned calmness, turning to point down the slope toward the village, saying, “While there aren’t any professional doctors in the village, Grandpa Roger knows a bit about medicine; come with me, he’ll be eager to help you with your wound.”
“Really?” Vichina appeared somewhat surprised, but then her expression shifted to concern.
“What’s wrong?” Gregory asked, confused.
After a moment of hesitation, Vichina managed to say, “I cannot go to the village right now because I cannot appear before the public.”
“Why?” Gregory frowned, unable to fathom why this beautiful woman couldn’t be seen in the village.
Was it because her beauty might stir up family disputes among the villagers?
Vichina glanced at the unremarkable shepherd boy Gregory before speaking, “I am the daughter of a merchant. My father was pressured to marry me to the lord’s son, but I refused and snuck out of the city on the day of the engagement.”
Her expression turned increasingly sorrowful. “But the lord not only captured my family but also sent soldiers to pursue me, wanting to drag me back.”
“So your hand was injured by the pursuers?” Gregory, listening to her tragic story, asked cautiously.
“Yes…” Vichina’s mood seemed still downcast, and she spoke softly, “So I cannot risk going to the village; it’s too dangerous.”
Gregory patted his chest, assuring her, “Don’t worry; everyone in the village is kind and won’t speak out of turn.”
“No, please forgive me, I cannot take that risk,” Vichina gently declined Gregory’s invitation.
Gregory scratched his head in frustration. He blinked and suddenly had an idea.
Excitement surged through him as he clapped his hands, saying to Vichina, “I have a good idea! There’s an abandoned stable near the village, it’s filled with hay and hardly anyone goes there; you can stay there for a few days.”
He hurried down the slope, turning back to Vichina, “It’s completely safe; I promise it will help you avoid the pursuers.”
“Alright.” With no other option, Vichina lifted her skirt and carefully began to walk down the steep path, her recently rescued lamb bouncing merrily behind her.
……
After a while, the two of them walked slowly on the flat grass, driving a flock of sheep in front of them.
Vichina, holding the previously lost lamb, walked alongside Gregory.
The lamb playfully turned its head, curiously licking Vichina’s soft curves.
“What a mischievous little thing.”
Vichina laughed, bending down to place the lamb on the ground, lightly wiping her chest.
The lamb lifted its front legs onto Vichina’s calf, bleating as if reluctant to leave her embrace.
Gregory remained silent, quietly stealing glances at everything happening next to him.
He swallowed hard, feeling a tightening in his throat.
He wanted to find a topic to discuss, but faced with such a beautiful woman, he became bashful, words faltering at his lips.
Just then, as the two of them crested a small hill, a somewhat dilapidated building came into view.
To dispel his embarrassment, Gregory leaned on his shepherd’s staff, quickly walking up to the top of the hill and pointing to the old stable stacked with neatly arranged hay bales, saying, “Here it is.”
Vichina joined him, looking at the slightly worn but not entirely ruined stable, exclaiming happily, “This is much better than I expected.”
Her alluring gaze turned to Gregory, and as their eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze in shyness. She smiled, stretching her arms and lazily said, “It seems I can sleep soundly tonight.”
“Rest assured.” Gregory, slightly awkward as he scratched his cheek, dared not meet Vichina’s eyes. He looked down and continued, “If anything in the village happens, I’ll rush to inform you so you can leave stealthily.”
Vichina responded with a faint smile but said nothing more.
They soon drove the flock closer to the stable, and after settling the sheep to graze, Gregory eagerly led Vichina to the stable door.
He pushed with effort against the old door, dislodging some dust from the frame, as beams of light filtered through the gaps and illuminated the dim interior, thick with dust.
“Cough cough…” Gregory waved away the air, coughing as the swirling dust forced him to stagger outside.
He intended to remind Vichina to step back and wait for the dust to settle before entering, but through his blurry and moisture-laden vision, he saw Vichina disregard the warning and walk straight into the stable.
“Vichina… Miss!” Gregory exclaimed in disbelief, no longer caring about the dust, and hurriedly followed her into the stable.
“Hahaha…” The moment Gregory stepped into the dim stable, he heard Vichina’s cheerful laughter and the sounds of rustling within.
Gregory squinted as he adapted to the darkness inside, glancing around for the gentle figure, only to find Vichina lying comfortably in a pile of hay stacked in the corner, arms spread wide.
Her striking red hair flowed like spilled paint across the dull yellow hay. As she lay back, her slightly tattered black robe clung to her skin, revealing her graceful curves.
“Mm~” Vichina stretched lazily on the hay, letting out a small sigh of contentment and saying, “Thank you.”
Gregory blushed deeply. “I’m… I’m very happy to be able to help Miss Vichina.”
A light laugh made Gregory feel so shy he wanted to escape; otherwise, his heart would surely leap from his chest.
