"Father, are you just going to stand by and watch?"
The conflicted Homebody Witch turned her gaze towards the Priest-skin version of her "father" beside her, then asked with furrowed brows.
Although this Adam—whether it be the name, appearance, or even the personality, speech tone, and behavior – was nearly identical to the one Dorothy remembered as her real father, her actual father couldn't possibly appear during Witch's Night.
Therefore, this Father Adam could only be a recollection from the God King's memory, now recreated by Witch's Night—a figure from over a hundred thousand years ago, merely an NPC.
Even though Father Adam truly was Nun Dorothy's father, Witch Dorothy still couldn't easily acknowledge him as such, and she had no choice but to refer to Adam as Father.
Adam, on the other hand, didn't find anything puzzling about this, as his daughter never liked to acknowledge him as her father, usually addressing him by name; now that she was willing to call him Father was already a significant improvement.
The old father even felt some relief.
However, when his gaze fell upon the golden-haired girl tied to the Burning Stake, a clear struggle flashed in his eyes.
Denisha was a child he had watched grow up, and this poor girl who had grown up with Dorothy was, in Adam's eyes, practically his adopted daughter.
How could he truly remain as calm as he appeared, when his adopted daughter was being treated in such a way? In fact, he was already burning with anger.
But what was the point of such impotent fury?
If he were alone, he might risk everything to save the pitiable Denisha, but the reality was that he also had his daughter Dorothy to care for.
Of course, if everything were normal, being members of the Church, he could risk being accused of harboring sympathy for the witch in order to defend Denisha, for no matter how despotic the Witch Hunters were, they were not yet so brazen as to burn a Church Priest and Nun like commoners.
Even if they resorted to their usual tactic of assigning blame, at most the father and daughter would be subjected to a review by the Church—technically, as long as the two were indeed innocent, there should be nothing to fear if they were on the right side.
But the problem was that both of them did indeed harbor secrets.
Adam turned to look at his daughter beside him, then sighed.
Perhaps Denisha, his adopted daughter, was a false witch, but his own daughter Dorothy was indeed a true witch.
What could he do then? Was he supposed to risk his own daughter's life to save his adopted daughter?
As heartless as it sounded, his adopted daughter simply did not carry the same weight in his heart as Dorothy, his own flesh and blood.
Yet, being faced with such a choice tormented Adam's conscience.
He was a man inherently brimming with a sense of justice; he chose the priesthood because the Church's principles of leading people to goodness aligned with his ideals—hoping that the world could become better under the guidance of devout faith and the teachings of God.
However, it was only after he became a priest that he realized that the Church's preachings were just that—preachings. The inside of the Church was far from as pure, good, and beautiful as he had imagined; beneath its shiny exterior lay the ugliest vices of the world.
Thus, after a series of conflicts and antagonizing many, he had chosen self-exile, leaving the bustling city to take up residence in this remote chapel as a hermit.
But never did he imagine that even in such a remote place, he could not escape these disputes.
If he now were accused of shielding a witch, those old adversaries would surely not let him be; the investigation aimed at the father and daughter would be exceedingly strict, and Dorothy's identity as a witch would be impossible to conceal.
But how could he bear to watch an innocent child like Denisha die horribly before his eyes? He might live the rest of his life in regret.
How would he have the face to promote truth, goodness, and justice to others in the future?
In any case, now, faced with Dorothy's questioning, the middle-aged priest couldn't help clenching his fists, feeling an exceptional anger burning within him.
Of course, this fury was not directed at his daughter but at the chaotic Witch Hunters.
And especially at the young Witch Hunter who first denounced Denisha as a witch and now looked at Dorothy with lust, the old father's anger was truly on the verge of breaking through his restraint.
Adam, who had always been kind to others and had almost never resorted to violence, was now, for the first time in his life, filled with murderous intent. He hung his head low, preventing anyone from noticing the blazing fury within him.
"Then what do you suggest I do? Dorothy, you know your own status; we shouldn't take risks,"
Adam forcefully suppressed his anger and spoke in a serene tone without a hint of inflection.
Hearing her father's retort, Dorothy narrowed her eyes.
She felt an increasing suspicion that this Father Adam had some special connection to her real father, as the Homebody Witch was quite familiar with this demeanor of Adam.
Indeed, back when father and daughter were avoiding Mother Dragon's pursuit in the netherworld, whenever Adam reached the limit of his patience and was about to embark on a slaughter, he would assume this "calm" demeanor.
Adam normally was a refined scholar, a genuine good person, smiling at everyone he met, but when truly angered, he would become calmer and calmer, until he reached the state he was now in, almost emotionless—as if he had no feelings at all.