Thomas bowed at the Herald of the Apocalypse. “I’ve come up with a detailed plan,” he said and held out a few papers. “In it, I’ve outlined who we should defeat to succeed in our uprising.”

Tafel grabbed the papers. She glanced at the words and realized she didn’t understand a single word of it. “How about a map?” she asked and raised her eyebrows, putting down the papers. “A map of where we are and where we should go should be sufficient enough.”

Thomas straightened his body. “Who was your previous informant?” he asked with a frown. “The Herald of the Apocalypse might be almighty, but even she can use some information. If she doesn’t know who the ones to exterminate are, how is she supposed to carry out the will of God?”

Tafel’s expression darkened, but she shook her head instead of expressing her displeasure. “Or, you can tell me what I have to do.” Quite frankly, the peasants that she had been leading weren’t that informed. They had issues with the church and aristocracy, but they didn’t understand the underlying issues and reasons for their oppression. All she could do was travel from town to town and handle whoever had an issue with her. With Thomas Müntzer’s understanding of the inner workings of the church, she’d finish her uprising much earlier than expected. Tafel’s brow furrowed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had forgotten something.

Thomas nodded. “It seems to me like you were traveling from town to town, following the roads,” he said. “While that may have been effective, it’s not the most efficient way to reveal your existence to everyone. What you have to do is remove the Swabian League.”

Tafel waited, but it didn’t seem like the eccentric priest was going to say anything else. “The Swabian League?” she asked. “Is it a group of individuals holding ownership over these lands?”

Thomas nodded. “That’s correct,” he said. “These lands that we’re in, they aren’t the best lands. They don’t have access to the sea, and expansion is near impossible. The people who rule these lands, they belong to the lesser royal members. They’re princes and dukes and margraves who couldn’t take the thrones in their respective households. Their armies are greatly outnumbered by the peasants following us, but they are well-equipped and not to be underestimated. They’ve united and agreed to rule together, forming the Swabian League.”

“What does the church have to do with this league?” Tafel asked.

“Along with the Holy Roman Emperor, the archbishop of the church greatly supports the Swabian League,” Thomas said. “The league is the enforcers in the region. If we remove the leaders of the league, then there will be a power vacuum within these lands. You’ll fill in the vacuum with the peasants, and we’ll form a country. From there, we’ll annihilate all who oppose our new world order, paving a way for everyone to experience everything God has intended them to.”

Tafel nodded. It did seem like eliminating this Swabian League would solve her issues of the church and nobility abusing their powers. And if she established a country, it’d be much easier to search for Vur and the rest of her companions. Despite making such a great ruckus, she still hadn’t found anyone. Since that was the case, then her companions must’ve been so far away that they hadn’t received any word of her actions. It’d probably take her own country to muster the man power to find them.

There was a knock on the door, causing Tafel and Thomas to turn their heads. “Excuse me,” a peasant said and walked inside. “Tafel, our great leader, the Herald of the Apocalypse, there’s a group of women who wish to meet with you.” The man paused and furrowed his brow. “They claim to be … witches.”

Tafel’s eyes lit up. This whole thing started with witches and trying to find Helena a place to stay. After going through a few towns, the real witches finally showed their faces. “Let them in,” she said. After all this time, she expected witches didn’t really exist, but who knew they’d appear now? “How many of them are there?”

“Around sixty,” the peasant said. He nodded at Tafel and left the room.

Thomas scowled. “He doesn’t treat you with enough reverence.”

“Forget it,” Tafel said, shaking her head. This particular peasant was brave and didn’t really care about the fact she was a demon. It was a refreshing experience to have someone around who wasn’t in awe of her; though, she suspected it was because the man was drunk all the time. “It’s better if he doesn’t.”

Thomas wanted to say something, but the peasant came back, leading a group of women. They were dressed like normal civilians, and if they hadn’t claimed to be witches, Tafel wouldn’t have suspected them of being abnormal. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “You claim to be witches?”

One woman stepped forward. She seemed to be extremely old, with a head full of white hair. Her face was disproportionate, and any stranger would’ve remembered her as that ugly fellow they passed by if they walked past her on the streets. “Yes, that’s correct, Your Excellency,” she said and lowered her head. “My name is Ursula Southeil, and I am a soothsayer. People who don’t understand me may call me a witch. Along with my companions who also have strange abilities, we’ve decided to meet up with you, the defender of the witches.”

“A soothsayer?” Tafel blinked. “You mean, someone who can predict the future?”

The old woman nodded her head. “I can read the future, but only in very short bursts. Sometimes, they’re in faraway regions, and I don’t recognize what’s happening.”

Tafel eyes lit up. This old lady’s ability seemed pretty interesting. “Try reading the future right now. What do you see?”

Ursula closed her eyes. A shiver ran down her spine, and strange syllables leaked out of her mouth as she chanted. After a brief moment, her eyes shot open, but only her whites were revealed. “Gods shall descend upon the land, angry and scaled in body and hand, long like lizards but smart like man, eager to find those of clan. Tempests and storms, they shall bring, when the lowest of the low do sing. Hark the mistresses call: Death for one, and death for all.”

Tafel frowned as the self-proclaimed soothsayer froze, her eyes returning to normal. “Can you make predictions in a straightforward manner?” she asked. “None of this rhyming couplets that I have to figure out?”

Ursula shook her head. “That’s how the words come out of me while I’m possessed.”

“Is that so,” Tafel said. “Interesting.” She nodded. “You and your group of witches can stay with us. I look forward to seeing what the rest of you can do.”