Inside the dimly lit church, the air was thick with tension. We all stood in uneasy silence, glancing at one another as we processed the chaos that had just unfolded.

  Gabriel, however, was completely lost in his own world. Every time his eyes landed on Lena, his expression softened into pure adoration, as if he were gazing upon a divine being who had descended straight from the heavens.

  I sighed, rubbing my temples before breaking the silence. "Alright... what do we do about this Grand Invocation?" My voice was steady, but the weight of our situation pressed heavily on my shoulders.

  Everyone’s attention snapped back to reality. The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as we all silently acknowledged the storm that was brewing around us.

  "It won’t take long for the Inquisitors to find us." I cast a glance at Gabriel, who was still half-dazed, eyes flickering between panic and whatever delusion he had about Lena’s divine presence.

  "Any ideas?" I pressed, my voice firmer this time.

  Gabriel blinked rapidly, snapping out of his trance—at least partially. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, muttering a string of curses under his breath before exhaling sharply.

  "Well," he started, rubbing his temples, "we could pray, but I doubt the gods are taking requests from heretics like us." He shot me a glare before pacing the room. "We need a way out before they kick down the doors. I could stall them again, but that won’t last forever."

  Elza, still eerily calm despite the situation, folded her hands in front of her. "Perhaps we don’t need to run. If we understand what the Grand Invocation truly is, we may be able to use that knowledge against them."

  Lena crossed her arms, nodding. "Then we better start figuring it out fast."

  The room fell into silence for a brief moment as we all processed our next move.

  Ravyn stepped forward with that smug, insufferable grin that always made my blood pressure spike. I already knew whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be ridiculous.

  "What if we pretend to be Inquisitors?" he suggested, tilting his head dramatically. "And say that we found Elza?"

  I barely resisted the urge to groan.

  Lena didn’t hold back. "Did you just forget how they found us?" she snapped, arms crossed. "They literally used magic to sense who was lying. Do you have some secret immunity to mind-reading that you forgot to mention?"

  Ravyn held a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "Lena, Lena, Lena. Where’s your faith in me?"

  "Somewhere between ‘not here’ and ‘never existed,’" she deadpanned.

  Gabriel, still looking ready to pass out from stress, threw his hands up. "I swear to the gods, if you idiots get me killed—"

  "We’re already dead if we don’t figure something out," I cut in, rubbing my temples. "So unless someone has a better plan, let’s keep the ideas coming."

  Elza, still impossibly composed, simply smiled. "Then let’s make sure the next plan actually works."

  Mark, the quiet giant, finally spoke up—an event so rare that everyone instinctively turned to listen.

  "What if we just lure them out?" His deep voice rumbled through the room, steady and measured. "I highly doubt they’d send a low-ranking member to retrieve the Saintess." His gaze swept across the room before briefly locking onto mine. "And when they do send someone important... we capture them and get our answers through interrogation."

  I considered his words, weighing the risks. It wasn’t a bad plan—dangerous, sure, but so was everything else we’d done tonight.

  Lena raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you propose we bait them? Just knock on their door and say, ‘Hey, we stole your Saintess, come get her?’"

  Ravyn grinned. "I like where this is going."

  Gabriel, already pale from stress, looked ready to collapse. "I am going to die before sunrise," he muttered, pouring himself another drink.

  I exhaled sharply, glancing at Elza. Despite all of this insanity, she still looked completely unfazed, as if none of this truly concerned her. Either she had nerves of steel, or she was hiding something.

  “Well, Mark’s got a point,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “If we try to keep running, they’ll eventually corner us. If we go after them first, we might have a shot at learning what the Grand Invocation really is before it’s too late.”

  Gabriel slammed his cup down. “We?” He pointed at himself, eyes wild. “Oh no. You lunatics are the ones picking fights with the Inquisition. I’m just the idiot who let you through the door!”

  “You’re also the idiot who stalled them earlier,” Lena reminded him flatly. “If they find out you lied, you’ll be joining us whether you like it or not.”

  Gabriel’s face twitched, his fingers tightening around the cup before he groaned. “I hate all of you.”

  “Noted,” I said, ignoring his suffering. “But let’s focus. If we go with Mark’s idea, we need a solid way to lure them in. They’re already looking for us, but we need to make sure they send someone high-ranking.”

  Lena tapped her chin. “We still have Elza.”

  Everyone turned to the Saintess.

  Elza, still eerily calm, met our gazes without a hint of concern. “I assume you want me to serve as bait.”

  “Well…” I hesitated. “Yeah. But it’s not as bad as it sounds!”

  Gabriel choked. “It sounds exactly as bad as it sounds!”

  Elza, to my surprise, merely smiled. “If it leads to the truth behind the Grand Invocation, then I don’t mind.”

  Gabriel stared at her in horror. “You’re all insane.”

  I ignored him. “Then it’s settled. We set the trap. But we need a plan to make sure we win once they take the bait.”

  Ravyn clapped his hands. “Finally! Now this is my kind of fun.”

  My lips curled into a grin as an idea formed. If Ravyn wanted excitement, I’d gladly give it to him.

  "Hey… Ravyn," I said, tilting my head slightly. "Since you’re looking for fun, how about you guard the Saintess while the rest of us scout from afar?"

  Ravyn’s smirk faltered just a little. "Wait, me? You want me to babysit?"

  "Not babysit," I corrected, enjoying his discomfort. "Just make sure she doesn’t get kidnapped. Again."

  Lena snorted. "Should be easy, right? I mean, you’re the Blind Reaper and all. Surely a couple of Inquisitors aren’t a problem for you?"

  Ravyn narrowed his eyes. "I hate how much I don’t trust you two right now."

  Gabriel, still drowning in his own misery, waved dismissively. "Oh, just take the job, you reckless idiot. I need a break before I drop dead from stress."

  Elza, as always, remained composed. "I don’t mind his company," she said simply.

  Ravyn sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine. But if this turns into a mess, I’m blaming all of you."

  "Noted," I said, already moving toward the exit. "Alright, let’s get into position before the real fun starts."

  We all knew better than to leave the church together—it would be too obvious.

  Ravyn was the first to go, guiding Elza out through the side entrance. Despite his usual arrogance, he walked with an unusual level of caution, keeping her close while scanning every shadow in the street. The Saintess, of course, remained as calm as ever, moving with an almost unsettling grace, as if she weren’t being used as bait for the Inquisition.

  Once they were a good distance away, the rest of us moved. But unlike them, we didn’t take the streets.

  Lena, Mark, and I climbed up the side of the church, using old stone ledges and vines as handholds. The city’s rooftops stretched before us, a maze of slanted tiles and wooden beams. Up here, we had the advantage—fewer eyes, more escape routes, and a clear view of our so-called “trap.”

  Lena landed beside me, crouching low. "If Ravyn screws this up, I am never letting him live it down."

  Mark, ever the silent presence, merely nodded before leaping to the next rooftop with ease.

  I adjusted my grip on Nyxrend and exhaled slowly. "Let’s just hope they take the bait."

  Below us, Ravyn and Elza continued walking through the dimly lit streets.

  Now, we waited.

  The rooftops gave us the perfect vantage point. From here, we could track Ravyn and Elza without being seen, our shadows blending into the night. The city below was alive with murmurs and distant footsteps, but none of it mattered—our focus was entirely on the trap we were about to spring.

  Ravyn walked with his usual cocky stride, but there was an edge to it, a readiness in the way his hand lingered near his weapon. Elza, in contrast, moved with serene confidence, unfazed by the danger surrounding her. If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.

  Lena crouched beside me, eyes sharp. “If they don’t take the bait soon, we might have to make some noise.”

  “Give it a little longer,” I murmured, scanning the streets. The Inquisition wasn’t stupid. If they were watching, they’d want to be sure before making a move.

  Mark remained silent, his massive frame barely making a sound as he shifted positions. Even though he rarely spoke, his instincts were sharp—if something felt off, he’d be the first to react.

  Then, it happened.

  A flicker of movement in the alley ahead. A cloaked figure, blending too well with the shadows. Not a common thief. Not a wandering drunk. Inquisitor.

  My grip on Nyxrend tightened.

  “They’re here,” I whispered.

  Lena’s lips curled into a smirk. “Finally.”

  We stayed still, watching as more figures emerged, moving like wraiths through the streets. Their formation was deliberate, surrounding Ravyn and Elza without a single wasted motion. These weren’t grunts. This was a well-coordinated response.

  Ravyn stopped walking. His smirk returned, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in his eyes. He knew.

  Elza, as always, remained composed.

  A voice cut through the silence. Smooth. Controlled. Dangerous.

  “You’ve gone through a great deal of trouble to get our attention.”

  From the darkness, a man stepped forward. He was tall, draped in white and gold robes, with piercing silver eyes that seemed to see through everything. Unlike the others, he wasn’t masked. He wanted us to see him.

  Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane.

  Lena tensed beside me. “Well… this just got a whole lot harder.”

  I exhaled, my mind racing.

  Time to see if our trap just backfired.

  Of course, it did. Before anyone could so much as breathe, Ravyn lunged at the Grand Inquisitor.

  No hesitation. No plan. Just pure, reckless aggression.

  What the hell—

  I moved to stop him, but before I could take a step, Lena grabbed my arm.

  "Let’s just watch," she muttered, eyes locked onto the fight. "We’ve never seen him fight before, right?"

  I wanted to argue, but she had a point. As far as I knew, Ravyn was just another skilled rogue—dangerous, sure, but going head-to-head with Grand Inquisitor Valen Mordane? That was suicide.

  Down below, Ravyn moved like a ghost, his blade flashing toward Mordane’s throat.

  And yet—

  Clang!

  A golden barrier flared to life, stopping Ravyn’s strike dead in its tracks. The sheer force sent a shockwave through the air, causing torches to flicker wildly.

  Ravyn twisted midair, bringing his dagger in for another strike—

  Another golden flash.

  Mordane barely moved. It was like he wasn’t even trying.

  Ravyn landed a few feet away, his usual smirk still in place. But this wasn’t arrogance. It was excitement.

  "Oh-ho," Ravyn chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad. You might actually be fun."

  Mordane exhaled, almost bored. "How unfortunate."

  Golden chains erupted from the air, streaking toward Ravyn like divine spears.

  Ravyn dodged the first few, but they moved too fast. One wrapped around his wrist, another around his ankle. Then, they pulled—slamming him into the ground with bone-cracking force.

  Dust kicked up from the impact.

  Lena’s grip on my arm tightened. "This is bad."

  I clenched my fists. "Damn it, Ravyn. Get up."

  The dust settled.

  Ravyn was still moving. His clothes were scorched, his body battered and bloody. Yet, despite the pain, he pushed himself up, coughing.

  "That all you got?" He grinned, blood dripping from his mouth.

  Mordane frowned. "Your arrogance is exhausting."

  With a flick of his fingers, the chains constricted—burning into Ravyn’s skin. He barely managed to stifle a grunt.

  Then, Mordane raised a golden spear. "Enough of this."

  The spear plunged through Ravyn’s chest.

  Silence.

  For a moment, the world stopped.

  Gabriel made a choking noise.

  Lena’s eyes widened. Even Mark, usually emotionless, stiffened slightly.

  Ravyn’s fingers twitched. Then, his body slumped.

  Mordane exhaled, already turning away. "Foolish."

  Gabriel staggered forward. "You... you killed him—"

  Then, it happened.

  A single crack echoed through the air.

  Mordane’s eyes snapped back toward the corpse. The golden spear—still impaling Ravyn—fractured.

  A pulse of unnatural energy rippled through the street.

  Then—

  Ravyn breathed.

  Golden light flickered across his wounds—then reversed, as if time itself had rewound. His body stitched itself back together, skin mending, bones resetting. The blood soaking the ground vanished.

  And then—

  He stood up.

  Mordane’s calm expression finally broke.

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  Gabriel let out an inhuman wheeze. "WHAT."

  Mark took a step back.

  Lena’s voice was barely a whisper. "No way..."

  Mordane’s gaze darkened. "What... are you?"

  Ravyn didn’t answer. His usual smirk was gone. His expression was... unreadable.

  A thin crack of dark energy pulsed around him. The air itself felt heavier.

  Something about him had changed.

  The paladins tensed, gripping their weapons. They thought they had just killed a low-tier rogue.

  They had no idea what they were actually dealing with.

  Ravyn flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders. His eyes—once playful—were now cold.

  "Alright," he murmured. "My turn."

  Then, he vanished.

  Mordane’s eyes barely had time to widen before Ravyn reappeared right in front of him.

  Faster.

  This wasn’t the same reckless Ravyn from before. His movements had no wasted motion, no unnecessary flair. Just precision.

  Ravyn’s dagger flashed upward, aiming straight for Mordane’s throat.

  Clang!

  Mordane barely managed to raise a golden shield in time, but this time, the impact wasn’t clean. The barrier cracked.

  Mordane’s expression hardened. He hadn’t expected that.

  Neither had I.

  "What the hell…" I whispered under my breath.

  Lena tensed beside me. "This isn’t normal. That’s not just a rogue getting back up. Something changed."

  Down below, Mordane lifted his hand again, golden light radiating from his palm. Another holy spear formed, brighter and more concentrated than before.

  "You are unnatural," Mordane said, his voice firm but laced with something new. Not just irritation. Concern.

  Ravyn smirked—his usual arrogant grin, but now there was something sharper behind it. "You’re not the first to say that."

  Mordane didn’t wait. He thrust the holy spear forward, aiming for Ravyn’s heart again.

  But this time—

  Ravyn didn’t dodge. He stepped forward.

  The golden spear struck—and passed through him.

  I blinked. What?!

  For a split second, Ravyn’s body shimmered like glass. Like he wasn’t completely there. The spear’s tip exited through his back, hitting nothing but air.

  Before Mordane could react, Ravyn countered. His dagger flashed—aiming low this time.

  Slash!

  A thin line of blood appeared on Mordane’s side.

  The Grand Inquisitor staggered.

  It wasn’t deep, but it was real. The first actual hit landed on him tonight.

  The paladins surrounding them murmured in disbelief.

  Mordane exhaled sharply, touching his wound. His fingers came away red. "Impossible…"

  Ravyn stepped back, twirling his dagger lazily. "Oh, no. Very possible."

  The air around him pulsed again.

  Cracks—almost invisible fractures of dark energy—flickered around his feet.

  Mordane’s eyes narrowed. "That ability… what are you?"

  Ravyn just grinned. "Still figuring that part out myself."

  Lena and I exchanged glances.

  She whispered, "We need to move."

  I nodded. If Mordane was actually taking Ravyn seriously now, this fight was about to get a whole lot worse.

  Because for the first time tonight—

  Ravyn wasn’t playing around anymore.

  Mordane’s expression was no longer calm. He wasn’t just acknowledging Ravyn now—he was reevaluating him.

  The Grand Inquisitor stepped back slightly, golden energy flaring around him as his stance shifted. The confident, almost indifferent demeanor he had before? Gone.

  I had never seen an Inquisitor hesitate before.

  Lena exhaled quietly beside me. "This is bad."

  I nodded. If Ravyn was making Mordane react like this, it meant he wasn’t just some reckless rogue who got lucky. It meant we had no idea what he was actually capable of.

  And that was terrifying.

  Ravyn tilted his head, stretching his fingers. His wounds were completely gone, his stance relaxed—but something about him had changed. That cocky, over-the-top attitude was still there, but there was a new edge to it now.

  Like a knife that had finally been sharpened.

  "So," Ravyn said, stepping forward. "Round two?"

  Mordane didn’t answer.

  Instead, the entire street lit up with golden magic circles.

  I tensed. He’s not holding back anymore.

  "Divine Judgment," Mordane intoned. His voice echoed unnaturally, layered with divine power.

  The magic circles exploded.

  Beams of golden light rained down from above, each one burning with divine energy. The impact shattered stone, turned debris into dust, and sent shockwaves rippling through the air. The ground beneath Ravyn cracked, engulfed in light.

  There’s no way he dodged that, I thought.

  Lena cursed. Even Mark's eyes narrowed slightly.

  And then—

  A shadow flickered.

  A silhouette stepped through the smoke, untouched.

  Ravyn.

  Still standing.

  His dagger glowed faintly with dark energy, the edges lined with cracks—like reality itself had been torn slightly.

  Mordane’s eyes narrowed.

  "Impossible."

  Ravyn grinned. "Man, I love hearing that."

  Then, he moved.

  Not just fast—wrong.

  It wasn’t speed. It wasn’t teleportation. It was as if the space between where he was and where he should be simply… stopped existing for a moment.

  One second he was standing in the smoke.

  The next—

  He was right in front of Mordane.

  Mordane barely had time to react.

  Ravyn’s dagger lashed out, aiming for his ribs—only for another golden barrier to intercept it.

  Crack!

  A visible fracture splintered through the barrier, but it held.

  Mordane’s expression remained unreadable, but I could feel it now.

  He wasn’t just fighting an enemy.

  He was trying to understand what he was up against.

  Ravyn clicked his tongue. "Tough one, huh?"

  Mordane didn’t respond. Instead, golden chains erupted from the ground again—but this time, they didn’t aim to bind Ravyn.

  They exploded.

  Ravyn disappeared into the blast, swallowed by divine energy.

  I instinctively moved forward—then stopped myself.

  No.

  I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

  The last time we thought Ravyn was dead… well.

  The smoke cleared.

  And there he was.

  Bloodied. Coughing. But standing.

  Mordane frowned. "Why won’t you die?"

  Ravyn grinned, wiping the blood from his mouth. "I did die. Kinda. Didn’t stick."

  Mordane’s fingers curled. "That… thing you did. The reversal. That wasn’t healing." His silver eyes locked onto Ravyn’s, studying him like a puzzle that refused to make sense. "What are you?"

  Ravyn tilted his head, considering the question.

  Then, he smirked.

  "You’ll find out."

  Then, he vanished.

  Mordane barely had time to react.

  Ravyn was gone.

  Not just moving fast—he disappeared. No sound, no flicker, no hint of his presence. One second, he was standing there, smirking. The next, empty space remained where he had been.

  Mordane’s expression remained composed, but his stance shifted ever so slightly. He was finally treating this as a real fight.

  His silver eyes darted across the battlefield. His grip tightened around his conjured spear of holy energy. The paladins behind him stiffened, scanning their surroundings.

  Where is he?

  Then—

  A whisper, right behind Mordane.

  "Found you."

  Mordane spun, golden energy flaring in his palm—

  Too slow.

  Ravyn’s dagger slashed across his ribs—deeper this time. Blood splattered against the cobblestone. Mordane hissed, staggering backward, another golden barrier flickering to life between them.

  Ravyn clicked his tongue, flicking the blood off his blade. "Almost got something vital that time."

  Mordane ignored him. His fingers pressed against his side, assessing the damage. His breathing was steady, controlled. But his eyes—

  For the first time, there was something else in them.

  Doubt.

  Lena inhaled sharply beside me. "Did you see that?"

  I nodded slowly. "Yeah."

  Mordane wasn’t just surprised by the attack.

  He was confused.

  Whatever just happened, he hadn’t been able to track it. His divine senses—his ability to see through deception, illusions, and tricks—had failed him.

  That shouldn’t have been possible.

  Mordane exhaled. "A mistake."

  Golden light pulsed outward from his body, forcing Ravyn to step back. His holy spear shimmered with renewed energy, crackling with divine power.

  "I assumed you were nothing but a rogue playing with fire," Mordane admitted. "But now I see…"

  His gaze locked onto Ravyn.

  "You are something unnatural."

  Ravyn’s smirk widened. "You keep saying that like it’s a bad thing."

  Mordane lifted his spear, his aura intensifying. "I was holding back, thinking you were an annoyance. That ends now."

  The paladins behind him moved forward, weapons raised, but Mordane lifted a hand—stopping them.

  "No," he commanded. "Stay back."

  The fact that he was refusing backup sent a clear message.

  He was taking this fight personally.

  Ravyn exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. "Finally. I was starting to think you were just another boring church boy."

  Mordane didn’t take the bait. He simply raised his spear, golden magic surging through his body. The ground beneath him trembled as radiant energy built up, causing the very air around him to hum with power.

  I clenched my fists. "Lena."

  She nodded. "Yeah, I know."

  We had to move. Now.

  Whatever was about to happen next wasn’t something we could just watch anymore.

  Because this fight had just escalated into something far beyond what we expected.

  A low hum pulsed through the air, thick with divine energy.

  I didn’t realize what was happening at first. I thought Mordane was just gathering more power, preparing to finish Ravyn once and for all. But then I saw it—the symbols forming beneath his feet.

  Golden runes burned into the cobblestone, spreading outward like wildfire, twisting and reforming in intricate patterns. The sheer force behind them made my skin crawl.

  Lena’s breath hitched. "No…"

  Mark, usually silent, muttered under his breath, "He’s doing it here? Now?"

  I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe. "What the hell is he doing?"

  Lena’s hands curled into fists. "*The Grand Invocation.**"

  My stomach dropped.

  He wasn’t waiting. He wasn’t stalling for the perfect moment.

  He was starting the damn ritual right here, right now.

  Mordane stood in the center of the glowing sigils, his expression eerily calm. "It seems I have underestimated you," he admitted, glancing at Ravyn. "Very well. I shall no longer delay."

  He extended a hand toward Elza.

  The Saintess—who had been silent this whole time—finally showed a reaction. Her brows furrowed slightly as if something deep within her had been disturbed.

  "No," she whispered. "This isn’t right."

  Ravyn’s smirk disappeared. "Yeah, I don’t think so, either."

  Then, he moved.

  Ravyn vanished, reappearing next to Mordane in an instant, his dagger slashing toward the Grand Inquisitor’s outstretched hand—

  Clang!

  A golden wall erupted between them, deflecting Ravyn’s strike effortlessly.

  Mordane didn’t even look at him. His gaze remained locked onto Elza, his voice steady and unwavering. "In the name of the Holy Light, I offer the catalyst. May the heavens open, and may the will of the divine descend upon this land."

  The sigils burned brighter.

  The ground shook.

  A deafening sound—like a bell ringing across the entire city—echoed through the air.

  "Tch—!" Ravyn backed off, shielding his eyes as golden flames erupted around them. "Not good. Not good at all."

  The ritual was happening.

  And we had seconds to stop it.

  Ravyn gritted his teeth. He didn’t understand magic. He didn’t understand rituals.

  But he did understand one thing—if he let this continue, something very bad was going to happen.

  "Screw this."

  He clenched his dagger, black energy crackling around it. Then, he did something none of us expected.

  He didn’t attack Mordane.

  He attacked the runes.

  With a single strike, Ravyn plunged his dagger into the golden sigils on the ground.

  BOOM!

  A shockwave exploded outward, tearing through the ritual circle. The golden runes flickered, shattering in fragmented bursts of light.

  For a brief, glorious moment—

  It worked.

  The ritual staggered.

  The sigils stopped expanding. The bell’s ringing wavered. The sky—once shifting ominously—seemed to hesitate.

  "Ha!" Ravyn grinned wildly. "That actually worked—"

  And then the world went wrong.

  A crack split through the air.

  Not the sound of stone breaking.

  Not the sound of something physical shattering.

  But something deeper. Reality itself trembled.

  A pulse of golden light burst from the remnants of the ritual circle, and suddenly, the ground beneath Mordane collapsed.

  A massive golden something—a structure, a pillar, a gateway—erupted from below, twisting into the sky.

  Ravyn stumbled backward. "What the actual—"

  Mordane finally moved.

  Not with the cold, precise movements of an Inquisitor, but with raw ferocity. His once measured stance was gone. Instead, he lifted his hand to the sky, and divine power roared to life around him like a sun preparing to explode.

  "Enough."

  Golden light spiraled upward, condensing into a single, devastating force.

  Then—

  A massive golden meteor formed above the battlefield.

  "Holy hell—" I barely managed to breathe.

  It wasn’t just a spell.

  It was divine judgment made manifest.

  Mordane’s voice no longer carried the tone of a man. It was layered—deeper, more final. "You have interfered long enough. If this kingdom must burn to complete the will of the divine, then so be it."

  The air turned heavy. The pressure alone nearly crushed me.

  "Lena—!"

  "We have to move!" she shouted.

  But Ravyn?

  He didn’t move.

  He looked up at the descending golden meteor, then back at Mordane.

  And for the first time since this fight started—

  He looked pissed.

  No smirk. No grin.

  Just raw, focused rage.

  Ravyn tightened his grip on his dagger. Then—

  Crack.

  The space around him fractured.

  Then, he vanished.

  Mordane barely had time to react before Ravyn appeared above him.

  His dagger plunged down—black energy spiraling around it like a vortex—aiming straight for Mordane’s skull.

  The impact shattered the air.

  The sound was deafening. The force was beyond anything human.

  For a brief second, it looked like Ravyn had done it.

  That he had finally landed the finishing blow.

  Then—

  Mordane caught the dagger with his bare hand.

  The air stopped.

  Lena inhaled sharply. "No way..."

  Ravyn’s eyes widened. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me—"

  Then, Mordane changed.

  His entire body went rigid. His golden aura twisted, distorting into something else entirely.

  For the first time, the Grand Inquisitor staggered.

  And when he spoke—

  It wasn’t his voice anymore.

  "...Where am I?"

  Silence.

  Ravyn slowly stepped back.

  Mordane—if he was Mordane anymore—stared at his own hands as if seeing them for the first time. His entire posture, his expression—everything was different.

  He turned his gaze to Ravyn.

  "Who are you?"

  Ravyn blinked. "What?"

  Mordane looked around, eyes scanning the battlefield, the ruined city, the still-descending meteor.

  "Where… is this place?"

  For the first time in this entire battle—

  I wasn’t afraid of the Grand Inquisitor.

  I was afraid of whoever was standing in his body now.

  The battlefield was silent.

  The Grand Inquisitor—if he could even be called that anymore—stood motionless, his golden aura no longer radiating hostility, but something far worse.

  Absolute uncertainty.

  Ravyn took a cautious step back, gripping his dagger tightly. His usual smirk was long gone, replaced by something resembling unease.

  The figure slowly raised a hand, looking at his own palm with a curious expression. It was the same body—Mordane’s armor, his robes, his presence—but the way he moved, the way his eyes scanned the world around him…

  It wasn’t him anymore.

  "Where... am I?" The voice that left his mouth was layered, detached, like someone waking from an impossibly long sleep.

  Ravyn didn’t answer. Neither did I. Neither did anyone.

  Then, before anyone could react—

  Mordane—or whatever had taken over him—stepped forward.

  And in one impossibly fast motion, he reached out and touched Ravyn’s face.

  The rogue’s entire body went rigid. His dagger trembled in his grip, his breathing caught in his throat.

  I barely restrained the instinct to jump in. But something in the air—something deep—kept me frozen.

  The figure tilted his head slightly, thumb tracing over the blood splattered on Ravyn’s cheek, as if studying him. As if trying to understand.

  Then, quietly—almost to himself—he murmured:

  "Ah… I see now."

  Ravyn swallowed hard. "Do you?"

  The figure blinked once, then slowly turned his head upward.

  The golden meteor—still looming above the city, still radiating divine destruction—was moments away from impact.

  The earth trembled beneath its weight. The paladins who had been watching in reverence finally realized something was wrong, panic flashing in their eyes.

  The figure—this higher being—simply exhaled.

  Then, with effortless grace, he raised a single hand.

  And stopped the meteor.

  Not with an explosion of magic. Not with force or resistance.

  He simply willed it to stop.

  And it did.

  The golden flames flickered, then died. The massive, apocalyptic mass of energy that had been moments away from turning the kingdom into dust simply... unraveled. Like an artist erasing a brushstroke.

  The sky, once twisted with divine fury, returned to its natural state. The trembling earth stilled. The chaotic hum of holy energy that had filled the battlefield simply ceased.

  It was over.

  Not because Ravyn had won.

  Not because Mordane had been defeated.

  But because whoever had taken over didn’t want to fight.

  The figure lowered his hand and looked around again, confusion still lingering in his eyes.

  Seeing the situation we all go down, checking to see if Ravyn and the Saintess are alright.

  The silence that followed was unnatural. The battlefield—once filled with divine fury, destruction, and chaos—was now eerily still.

  The golden meteor was gone.

  The ritual had stopped.

  And yet, none of us could relax.

  My heart was pounding in my chest, my mind racing to process what had just happened. Ravyn was winning—or at least not dying—then Mordane just… changed.

  And now?

  Now, we had a higher being standing in the middle of a ruined street, completely uninterested in destroying us.

  I didn’t know if that was better or worse.

  Lena and I exchanged a glance. She gave me a sharp nod. No words needed. We had to move.

  "Let’s go," I muttered, leaping from the rooftop.

  Mark followed without hesitation, landing with a solid thud behind us.

  Lena was right beside me, her posture tense, ready for a fight—though I wasn’t sure what we were even supposed to fight against anymore.

  Gabriel was the last to come down, though he stumbled more than jumped. His hands were still shaking, his eyes locked onto the thing wearing Mordane’s body.

  But right now, that wasn’t my priority.

  I rushed toward Ravyn first.

  He was still standing—barely. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his dagger hanging loosely in his grip. He wasn’t smirking anymore.

  For once, Ravyn genuinely looked unsure of what to do.

  "Ravyn!" I called, coming to his side. "Are you—?"

  "I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual cocky edge.

  My gaze flickered to his face. His skin was pale, his forehead damp with sweat.

  He was not fine.

  But before I could push him further, a soft voice cut through the silence.

  "I am unharmed."

  Elza.

  I turned quickly, my stomach twisting.

  The Saintess stood a few feet away, untouched. Not a scratch on her. Her robes still glowed faintly with divine light, but something in her posture was… different.

  She was staring at Mordane. Or rather—what was left of him.

  Her usually calm expression showed something I had never seen before.

  Not fear.

  Not relief.

  But deep, unsettled curiosity.

  Like she had just seen something she recognized—but couldn’t quite understand.

  My gut told me that was important.

  I took a slow breath, steadying myself. "Alright," I muttered, scanning the others. "Ravyn’s alive. The Saintess is safe. That just leaves—"

  I hesitated.

  Because the final problem—the biggest problem—was standing right in front of us.

  The being that used to be Grand Inquisitor Mordane.

  It was still just… standing there. Watching us. Studying us.

  Waiting.

  Lena exhaled, gripping her daggers. "So… what now?*"

  No one had an answer.

  The figure tilted its head, silver eyes scanning each of us with unsettling curiosity. It wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t afraid. It was simply… observing.

  Then, it spoke.

  "Where am I? Who are you?"

  Its voice was layered, distant—like an echo that had traveled across time itself.

  I forced myself to breathe, stepping forward cautiously.

  "Before we answer that," I said carefully, "who are you? What was the last thing you remembered?"

  The figure blinked slowly, as if considering the question. Then, in a calm, almost casual tone, it replied:

  "Remembered? Hmm… I remember dying."

  A chill crawled up my spine.

  "I was a soul for a very, very long time… just floating in the endless dark. Then, I saw the light." The figure gestured slightly, as if recalling something far beyond our comprehension. "And then… here I am."

  Silence.

  Ravyn muttered something under his breath that I knew wasn’t appropriate for holy company.

  Gabriel looked like he was about to faint.

  Lena, on the other hand, exhaled sharply. "So, let me get this straight…" she said, voice tight. "You died… and then just woke up in Mordane’s body?"

  The figure—whatever it was—tilted its head again. "Mordane?" It repeated the name like it was foreign to it.

  It didn’t recognize the name.

  I clenched my fists. "Then who were you before you died?"

  The figure frowned slightly, as if genuinely trying to remember. A moment passed.

  Then another.

  Then—

  "I… don’t know."

  That was the moment I realized something very, very wrong had just happened.

  But before I could even ask another question, my eyes flickered past the figure—to the paladins standing behind him.

  They weren’t moving.

  They weren’t attacking.

  They were just… standing there.

  Their expressions weren’t filled with righteous fury or determination like before. Instead, they looked at each other, their faces twisted in sheer confusion.

  They didn’t know what to do.

  Makes sense, I thought grimly. Their Grand Inquisitor, the man who commanded them, the strongest holy warrior of the kingdom, had been completely taken over by something else.

  And whatever had replaced him?

  It didn’t want to fight.

  It didn’t want to finish the ritual.

  It didn’t even seem to care about them.

  Lena nudged me slightly, her voice low. "Eli… this could turn ugly real fast."

  I nodded slowly. The paladins looked unsure now, but the moment someone gave an order—whether it was from another high-ranking officer or just their instincts kicking in—this entire situation could explode into violence.

  The problem was…

  I wasn’t sure if we were the ones in danger.

  Or if they were.

  I tensed, ready to dodge, my mind racing for a plan in case things went sideways.

  Then—

  "I’m hungry."

  I blinked.

  Lena blinked.

  Even Ravyn, still catching his breath, looked at me like he had misheard something.

  But the figure wasn’t joking. His silver eyes shifted toward the paladins behind him, his expression still unreadable.

  "Get me food," he ordered. Then, after a pause, "And call everyone."*

  The paladins froze.

  They stiffened at the command, eyes darting between each other, their bodies tense with hesitation.

  It wasn’t just because of the order itself.

  It was how he said it.

  Like it was something natural. Like it was something he was supposed to do.

  Did he actually know what he was doing?

  Or was he simply... acting on instinct?

  A chill crawled up my spine.

  Lena leaned in slightly. "Eli," she whispered, "what the hell is happening right now?"

  I had no idea.

  But one thing was clear.

  Whoever or whatever had taken over Mordane wasn’t leaving anytime soon.