Despite her anger, the chief quickly turned the situation to her advantage by proclaiming to those below, "This is a divine sign. It shows that humans must not stand. They must kneel and crawl before us!"

The assembly took her words to heart, bowing their heads and reassembling to continue the ritual by the fire.

It was then that the chief, with a fierce look, stepped on the fallen Roscoe's head. “You really want to die that badly? The nerve of you freeing my sacrifice! You must have a death wish. The ritual cannot be canceled. Today, I'll make you suffer before everyone, let the flames engulf you, and show you the true horrors of hell."

The chief leaned in, her voice venomous. “Believe me, the agony you're about to feel will make hell seem merciful."

Roscoe's face was ghostly. No food or water was offered to him for three whole days. Yet, he wasn't cowed by the chief's threats. He retorted coolly, "Have you ever endured such pain yourself?"

The chief paused, taken aback by Roscoe's defiance and his bold challenge. Despite her long history of bloodshed, she had never encountered such boldness. With a hint of pride, she declared, “Do you think I am like you commoners? I am a Holy Spirit, aged 160 years, I have watched countless like you consumed by flames."

Roscoe scoffed. "Holy Spirit? You're delusional. I've discovered your so-called witch clan merely possesses genetic advantages, like an extended lifespan. This Holy Spirit rejuvenation is a fabrication to deceive your followers."

The chief's expression darkened. "What nonsense are you spouting?"

Roscoe sneered, "The truth, which you know very well. Have your repeated Lies made you convinced of them?"

“You know nothing, young man! You can't trick me!" she snapped back.

"You know very well whether I'm tricking you," Roscoe replied coldly.

“Didn't you claim Emerie is eighty years old? She's your Living advertisement, with the so-called claim of maintaining her beauty even at the age of eighty, drawing many witches. You also claimed the rightful chief met an unfortunate accident the same year you took over, correct?"

"That is the truth," the chief insisted.

“Interesting. Emerie is only twenty-two this year, which explains her youthfulness." Roscoe disclosed her secret. He continued, "You hypnotized her when she was a child, making her believe she was seventy, and she grew up believing it. When her appearance inevitably ages, you'll secretly dispose of her, claiming she ascended to the Holy Void to become a Holy Spirit."

"You have quite an imagination," the chief retorted. Her face had faltered for a moment, but she quickly masked her unease. She scoffed.

"Do you think Emerie would take your word over her own judgment? She knows her age better than you do.”

The chief was not concerned about Roscoe exposing the truth, confident that after years of indoctrination, Emerie was convinced of the say of immortality.

"I don't need her to believe me," Roscoe countered. "A simple bone density test at any hospital will reveal her true age and your deceit."

“Hahahaha.." The chief laughed maniacally. "Take Emerie to a hospital? Dear, you need to make it out of here alive first!"

Although the chief appeared celestial and ethereal, especially with her human skin mask giving her an immortal-like facade, the signs of age were evident up close, the wrinkles on her neck and the dark spots barely concealed.