With a soundless grace, the figure leapt from its perch under the moon, landing at the base of the altar. No one dared to move an inch as it looked at them. As the shadows peeled away, the figure revealed itself, not a monster, not some ancient phantom…

  A teenager?

  Aria thought as she looked at the strange boy.

  He stood tall, though his expression remained unreadable, as he looked upon the gruesome scene. His messy black hair framed his face in wild, uneven strands, with sharp streaks of red cutting through his bangs like fresh blood against coal.

  His clothing was oddly contrasted. A maroon shirt, neatly tucked into black dress pants. Overtop his shirt was a dark grey vest, complemented by a pair of black boots. Draping him was an almost ethereal white coat that glowed in the darkness. What stood out most, however, were his eyes.

  They were dark red, deep, endless, and heavy with silent judgment. They glowed faintly, like embers beneath ash or the haunting glow of a blood moon. His gaze wasn’t angry, nor was it kind; it was ancient, cold, and unforgettable, as though he was seeing straight through to the darkest parts of every soul in the room.

  "You’re Damien Blackwell?” The intruder’s voice was calm, almost bored, as if the priest wasn’t even worth the effort of genuine emotion. His gaze shifted to the decapitated head lying cold on the altar, and for a brief moment, his expression flickered. sympathy? The man's features quickly smothered by disgust. “I wonder if I should just kill you now and save myself the trouble…”

  “Back away from Father Blackwell!” Two zealots charged without hesitation. One brandished a longsword, the other the branding rod. His red eyes regarded them indifferently.

  The first man swung the branding rod downward only for the intruder to shift quickly. A single fist struck the zealot’s chest like a hammer, folding him inward with a choked gasp as the air was ripped from his lungs. The glowing poker clattered uselessly to the floor. The second attacker’s sword sliced through empty air as the intruder ducked beneath the arc of the blade, moving with fluid precision. Without hesitation, the boy surged upward, driving a sharp knee into the man’s chin followed by a swift strike to the throat. The other acolyte crumpled with a strangled wheeze.

  In a seamless motion, the intruder caught both attackers by their collars and slammed them together with effortless force. Both men collapsed, unconscious before they hit the ground. The remaining followers froze. Fear rippled through the room like a wave, and not one of them dared to move. Aria watched in shock, his unexpected arrival shaking her out of momentary despair. For a brief moment she felt hope.

  Aria watched in stunned silence, the despair that had been crushing her just moments ago now cracking under the weight of this stranger’s sudden arrival. The sheer power he displayed was terrifying, but more than that, it was hope. A flicker of it, however faint, in the deepest dark.

  Damien, however, didn’t share that fear. His polite smile returned, as warm and false as the man himself. “Playing God?” His tone was light, almost amused by the stranger.

  “It seems you’ve misunderstood the teachings of my church. I’d be delighted to clarify for you. My duty is to cleanse this world of sinners. That girl, in particular…” He gestured lazily toward Aria. “She served directly under that demon king of Easenna. A loyal servant of chaos and death.”

  His eyes narrowed, taking in the stranger with a calculating gaze. Young. Barely older than that girl if I had to guess. He shouldn’t be this strong. Yet the facts were undeniable. He had conjured a barrier from afar and brought down Damien’s two best enforcers like they were nothing.

  Someone like this could be useful. He wouldn’t have come here without a reason. After all everyone wants something.

  “You seem strong for your age,” Damien mused, his smile returning like a stain that wouldn’t wash away. “Strong indeed. You could serve this church well.”

  The boy, Espoir, glanced toward Aria confused. Damien noticed his supposed interest. “If it’s the girl you’re after, you’re welcome to take her for yourself…” His voice dripping with false generosity. “Although, you might find her companion more entertaining. That one has a much larger pair of—”

  BANG.

  "You would be wise to stay silent," Espoir said coldly, lowering his gun with deliberate precision, the disgust clear in his voice. Damien Blackwell healed the headshot wound using his ring, his eyes narrowing at Espoir as he walked past him.

  Espoirs eyes swept toward the altar, locking onto the blood-soaked circle and its jagged symbols. A sacrifice? The spell circle contained sinister magic designed for a singular, horrifying purpose. It’s used for a grimoire. The dead woman’s lifeless body lay off to the side, her blood having formed a perfect circle of blood.

  Espoir sighed as he addressed Blackwell. “First off,” he began, raising a finger with casual defiance, “I’m not a kid, I’m eighteen. Secondly, what’s your deal here? Since she’s from a nation Albion was at war with, are you planning to torture, violate, or sacrifice her for that grimoire of yours? And thirdly, why would I align with someone who clearly has no regard for human life?” His last question was more genuine, as if Damien was stupid for asking that.

  Aria watched from the altar, her heart pounding. She didn’t know who this stranger was or whether he was here to help her. But he wasn’t her enemy. At least, not yet.

  “An egalitarian?” Damien let out a sharp, forced laugh.. “I’m sure the military would love to hear how a traitor’s cozying up to our enemies.”

  “I think they’d be far more interested in finding out how a so-called priest has been conning an entire region with fake miracles.” He counters swiftly. His gaze shifted to the bubbling liquid on the floor, remnants of the shattered syringe. “So that’s whats going on,”

  “Watch out!” Aria managed to pull off her gag just in time.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Espoir caught the flicker of movement as Blackwell’s aura tendril surged toward him. The jagged spear-like appendage pulsed with an almost otherworldly aura, his attack was aimes straight for his chest. On reaction , Espoir sidestepped the attack and slashed Blackwell across his face with a dagger. The priest stumbled back, crimson spilling down his cheek, fury twisting his features.

  Snarling in rage, Damien lunged again. This time, however, Espoir caught the writhing tendril mid-air. Planting his foot firmly on the priest’s chest, he propped himself up, holding the dark appendage tightly. With his free hand; he formed a finger gun using his index and middle fingers aimed directly at Blackwell’s face.

  “You little shit!” Damien howled, summoning another blade of shadow in his other hand in desperation.

  “Ignite.”

  A flicker of flame sparked at Espoir’s fingertips, swelling into a blazing orb of fire. The explosion detonated in Blackwell’s face, sending Espoir flying across the altar. He slid to a stop beside Aria, dagger already in hand. The blade’s outline shimmered with a faint, light aura coated the blade as he sliced through the shackles binding her in a fluid arc.

  Espoir’s eyes flickered over her, quickly taking in her condition. She looked starved, weakened, barely clothed in what was little more than a shredded dress. Without hesitation, Espoir threw his coat Aria, knocking her back slightly as it loosely landed on her

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  He’s helping me? Aria didn't understand why. Blackwell had told him she's from Easenna yet. Whatever his motives, he didn’t feel like an enemy. Sensing her confusion, Espoir offered a small, reassuring smile, warm, even in the chaos surrounding them. “I’m Espoir, by the way.”

  Damien emerged from the flames, staggering through the smoke like a nightmare given form. His skin crackled, charred flesh peeling away to reveal raw muscle and fragments of exposed skull beneath. The wounds began to mend, the twisted magic of the onyx ring began to glow intensely into a searing purple light.

  “To think... a capable mage would come here...” Damien rasped, voice distorted by pain and fury.

  Desperate, he clutched at the ring, drawing on its dark power. But instead of strength, agony surged through him. His eyes widened in horror.

  “What? What’s going on?!” The priest cried out.

  His flesh began to bubble, grotesque boils swelling across his skin like molten blisters. Steam hissed from his body as if it were being cooked from the inside out. The power meant to save him was betraying him. Collapsing to his knees, Damien screamed; a raw, guttural sound of pure suffering. His hands clawed at his own face as if tearing it off might stop the burning agony consuming him from within.

  Damien’s scream fractured into gurgling rasp as his body split open. His skin peeled back in ribbons, flesh tearing with sickening cracks and squelches that seemed to echo through the halls with his screams. His form twisted, convulsed, no longer human but something far worse.

  The figure that rose from the remains of Damien Blackwell was a grotesque column of pulsing flesh, its sickly color shifting between a diseased green and a deep, bruised purple. The stench of burnt meat and decaying rot thickened the air, clawing into every breath like poison.

  At the top of the towering mass, a pair of malformed heads began to emerge, if they could still be called heads. Their hollow sockets stared blankly ahead, empty and husk-like, mouths stretched wide in a silent, eternal scream.

  From its abdomen, arms, too many arms that seemed to erupt violently. Human in shape but wrong in every other way, they jutted from its body at impossible angles, twitching and clawing at the air. Sharp, dark spines sprouted between the limbs, descending in writhing rows that stretched down its horrific length like some grotesque centipede.

  Then came the tendrils.

  Two long, semi-solid appendages burst from its upper mass, familiar yet terrifying. They shifted fluidly, one moment jagged blades, the next writhing tentacles slick with dark fluid. They pulsed with unnatural life, the same terrible weapons Damien had once wielded, now fused into the heart of this monstrosity.

  In an instant, the abomination lunged forward, faster than anything its grotesque size should have allowed. Its clawed appendage morphed mid-swing into a jagged blade, cutting through the air with terrifying speed.

  Espoir barely had time to react. Instinct took over as he threw up a barrier, an elegant shimmer of light-gray energy snapped into place around him and Aria. But the monster’s strike collided with the shield like a falling star, shattering it into razor-sharp fragments of glowing aura.

  The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the room, glass-like shards raining down in a deadly shower. Espoir threw himself toward Aria, shielding her with his body as the fragments sliced the air around them. A searing pain flared in his arm,as a deep gash was left by the creature’s claw. Blood quickly staining his sleeve.

  His breath hitched. It’s stronger than I thought.

  But there was no time to hesitate. Gritting his teeth, Espoir pivoted on his heel and launched a powerful kick, his boot striking the creature dead center in its writhing mass. The impact cracked through the air like thunder, sending the monstrosity hurtling backward. It crashed violently into the back wall with a sickening squelch, the structure groaning under the sheer force of the blow.

  “Ah!”

  Aria’s startled cry was swallowed by the rush of air as Espoir effortlessly scooped her into a bridal carry. His movements were swift and purposeful, barely disturbed by the chaos around them. His boots hit the ground hard as he leapt from the elevated platform, aura crackling faintly beneath his feet with every stride.

  “Hold on,”

  Aria’s face burned, not from fear, but from the humiliating position she found herself in! If it weren’t for the raw ache in her limbs, she might’ve struggled free on instinct. Why the hell is he carrying me like this?

  Her embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the sheer horror behind them. She dared a glance back, that thing was feeding. The twisted abomination tore into the unconscious acolytes like they were scraps of meat, absorbing them into its grotesque form. The wet sound of flesh melding with flesh echoed through the cathedral, each gruesome gulp making her stomach twist.

  “What are you?” Aria managed to ask. Despite her injuries, her pride still burned fiercely.

  Espoir didn’t answer at first. His focus never wavered from the monster behind them. The crimson in his eyes seemed to glow brighter under the fractured light of the stained glass.

  Aria watched him in disbelief. His aura usage, it wasn’t just powerful, It moved with terrifying ease, like it wasn’t bound by the same rules of magic she knew. How can someone this young be so dangerous?

  “Are you an inquisitor from the church? Or maybe… you're with the Mage Corps?” Her voice was softer now, uncertainty creeping in. If he’s with the Mage Corps and realizes who I am…

  After putting some distance between them and the altar, Espoir set her down gently. Before Aria could steady herself, the Eldritch hurled a nearby pew toward them with terrifying force. Without hesitation, Espoir redirected it with a sharp gust of wind, sending the splintering wood crashing through the roof. The moon’s glow poured in through the gaping hole, casting a cold, silver spotlight onto the chaos below.

  “Mage Corps? Inquisitor?” Espoir tilted his head at the question, then let out a genuine laugh.

  Aria blinked in disbelief. Does he take anything seriously? Stretching his bloodied arm, Espoir’s eyes locked onto the horrifying creature.

  “Neither! I’d be caught dead working with those guys.” Circling back to her question, he spoke with an easy, almost reckless grin. “Nope, I’m just a traveling magician who specializes in grimoires and Eldritch. I came to this town to investigate the rumors of a grimoire user in the region.”

  Grimoires. A forbidden magic rumored to grant immense power, but at a devastating cost. To wield such magic required one to forfeit their humanity to an Eldritch entity. Aria had never seen a grimoire or an eldritch until today. In both Easenna and Albion such practices were punishable by death.

  So that’s how he fooled them. Aria’s stomach twisted as realization struck. The reason they believed Damien Blackwell was divine… he used Eldritch's power to fake his miracles.

  Her gaze hardened as the grotesque mass lurched toward them, it was currently devouring the sacrificed woman's body. She had known Blackwell was a fraud, but this? To willingly surrender himself to something so monstrous, just to manipulate and control? The mere sight of it made her sick.

  How many people did he sacrifice for that Eldritch? The thought clawed at her. Was that what his ritual was meant to do? To turn me into something like that? A cold shiver ran through her. What would’ve happened if this man hadn’t shown up?

  “Correct!” Espoir’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, far too cheerful for the situation. “There’s been a rising number of grimoire users and Eldritch sightings across the continent. Albion, in particular, has the worst of it.” He spoke as if this was casual conversation over tea and not a life-or-death battle.

  The eldritch began to sense them and was closing in fast. Every movement is a grotesque ripple of writhing flesh and shifting limbs. Espoir quickly assessed the situation, fully aware that time was running out but decided to keep speaking.

  “Of course, grimoires are easier to deal with since they’re still human, just incredibly dangerous humans.” His expression darkened ever so slightly. “Eldritch is a different story. If they fully manifest, even the military’s top mages struggle to contain them. The average person wouldn’t stand a chance… Assuming they didn’t lose their mind first.”

  Aria shot him an incredulous look. He’s my age and he’s going to fight that?!

  “How could you possibly defeat an Eldritch?” Even with his clear skill, she couldn’t fathom how someone so young could stand a chance. The only person she had ever known capable of facing an Eldritch was her father.

  Espoir met her doubt with nothing but a confident, easy smile. “While grimoires and Eldritch are dangerous for most people…” His eyes narrowed, sharp with unwavering certainty. “I won’t lose.”

  Aria stared at him, wide-eyed and utterly confused. Is he serious? Does he really think he can fight that?

  “After all, rhe best way to counter poison is with poison.”

  The creature let out a guttural, inhuman screech as its grotesque form twisted unnaturally. Its limbs stretched and cracked, reshaping into an even more terrifying form, ready to rip them apart. The pale moonlight streamed through the shattered roof, draping Espoir in an ethereal glow that made him seem both fearless and untouchable.

  Without a trace of hesitation, he stepped forward, extending his hand open with effortless confidence. The air seemed to thrum with power around him as his hand began to glow.

  “Appear! My Grimoire between light and darkness!”