It seemed that the Little Witch's scream had startled the Black Mountain Goat, which slowly turned its head, revealing a burned visage.
To be more precise, it was half a burned visage—the Black Mountain Goat appeared as though it had been split into two by an invisible long blade. The left side was normal: its wool was fluffy, its eyes bright, and its horns sharp. But the right side was utterly unrecognizable; its wool had been scorched, its half-exposed face peeled away, revealing dark red muscle and tangled blood vessels. Its eyelid was gone, exposing a ghastly oversized eye like a glowing bulb. The horn on that side seemed to have melted under searing flames, drooping near its ear, marked with bubble-like holes akin to those on volcanic basalt.
But none of these were the most terrifying.
The most frightening was something beyond the burns.
