Chael barely had time to register it before the appeared in front of him with its sword raised high. The crimson glow in its visor burned like embers in the dark and its faceless gaze locked onto him as it swung downward.

  But Chael didn’t need time to react because he had already seen it.

  Through the knight’s own armor, through the gleam of its polished plates, and the reflection caught in its raised blade, he had already witnessed the attack before it even fell upon him.

  It was as though he was the knight itself.

  Chael sidestepped effortlessly and the massive sword cleaved through the spot where he had stood just a fraction of a second ago. The blade hit the ground with a thunderous crash and split the stone beneath it. Dust and debris scattered, but Chael had already moved again, stepping back just in time to avoid the sweeping horizontal slash that followed.

  Chael backed up to gain some distance, his eyes analyzing the knight's fighting style as well as it's armor to see if he could exploit any weaknesses.

  The knight was relentless, striking again and again, but Chael danced between its attacks, weaving through the gaps in its attacks as if he had rehearsed them a hundred times before.

  Chael didn't attack yet and simply observed, the teaching of his favourite strategist flashing through his mind, 'Sun Tzu once said, "Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win."'

  The more he danced with the knight, the more he realized that the reflections in its armor gave him every advantage.

  The metal gauntlets, the smooth curve of the shoulder guards, the gleam of its blade, and even the twisted shapes reflected in its helmet - they all showed him something.

  To anyone else, this knight would have been a formidable opponent.

  To Chael? It was an open book.

  After a few more dodges, a sharper look appeared on his face. About now he had fully memorized a majority of the knight's attacks, and he even noticed that the knight had a small gap between its helmet and the upper-body area of the armor. If he wanted to eliminate this knight as quickly as possible, then exploiting that gap might be his best bet.

  The knight lunged again with its sword thrusting forward, but Chael countered in an instant and slammed his spear straight into its metal torso. The force of the impact sent the knight staggering back, a deep dent now carved into its breastplate where the silver tip had struck.

  Chael glanced at his spearhead and was surprised to see that it didn't even have a single scratch.

  He let out a low whistle. "Damn. Sturdier than I thought."

  The knight began attacking again, its blade slashing in a brutal arc. Chael spun his spear and deflected the attack mid-air, the broken side of his body aching from the sheer force behind it.

  Chael used the momentum of the attack to gain some distance.

  The knight seemed more or less on his level, so Chael assumed it was also a low-level Harbinger. This was his first real fight since he had become a Harbinger and it wasn’t going so bad.

  Chael was actually quite confident in the outcome of this fight because he was the worst type of enemy these knights could come across. The knights only had one set of eyes, but they gave him multiple.

  Chael’s eyes drifted to the darker corners of this prayer hall where the dim firelight didn’t reach. If the fight happened there, Chael would be in a lot more trouble but thankfully, the knight didn’t seem intelligent enough to drag the fight over there.

  Chael panted lightly as he saw the knight advance slowly. The reflection from his own spearhead showed the knight… and its armor missing its lower half.

  Chael’s expression twisted into a look of sheer disgust.

  "Tch. Have some shame, will you?" he scoffed. "Fighting with your dick hanging out? How disgraceful."

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  The knight pressed forward with brutal and ceaseless strikes, but Chael moved in perfect rhythm, blocking, dodging, and weaving through the openings its own body revealed to him. The sharp clang of steel against steel echoed through the prayer hall.

  Through the gleam of its sword, he saw the next swing coming before the knight had even begun to move. Through the curve of its helmet, he saw the subtle shift in its footing and predicted the feint before it was executed.

  One thing Chael had thought about during the time he was recovering in that cavern after going blind was that an area full of light and reflections must be his strongest domain for combat, but he thought he’d need a lot of time to get used to it. Only now did he realize that these movements came naturally and instinctively as he saw the world through the mirrors around him.

  Chael sidestepped another blow and pivoted sharply as he drove his spear straight into the knight’s abdomen. The force of the strike sent it reeling back again.

  With a burst of speed, he lunged forward and closed the distance between them in an instant. His spear shot out, aiming for the gap in the knight's throat.

  The knight dodged.

  Chael’s brow furrowed slightly.

  Its sword came down toward his shoulder, but Chael twisted his spear and caught the reflection of the blade mid-swing, and ducked at the last moment, feeling the cold air brush past his cheek as it narrowly missed.

  The knight tried again and swung in a wide arc.

  Chael smirked. ‘Mistake.’

  He stepped into its guard and twisted his spear, and drove the blunt end straight into its knee.

  The knight buckled.

  Chael wasted no time. He spun the spear around, gripping it near the base, and with a single, powerful thrust, he rammed the silver tip straight through the knight’s throat.

  The impact sent it crashing backward.

  It convulsed for a moment, body twitching as black mist poured from the wound.

  Then, it fell still.

  Chael exhaled slowly and rolled his shoulders as he stepped over the body. He nudged it with his foot once, making sure it was truly down.

  After a few seconds, the crimson glow in its visor flickered and died.

  "Good riddance," he said coldly.

  Despite fighting with his non-dominant hand, his spearmanship was great. As the chief of Ashwara, Chael had been made to undergo rigorous combat training almost every single day. When he finally had a decent grasp of all combat weapons, he decided to pick up the spear and make it his specialty because of it’s better reach, versatility and tactical superiority over other weapons.

  Chael glanced at the priestess.

  She hadn’t moved.

  She remained kneeling before the altar, her pale lips still curved into that eerie smile.

  Chael narrowed his eyes.

  "Still here?" he asked.

  The priestess tilted her head.

  "Ahh… the pilgrim’s touch is cruel…" she murmured before her figure glowed slightly and soon began to fade away.

  "The Whore-Saint will return… We are all bound… We are all faithful."

  A sharp exhale left his lips. It seemed that she, too, was a ghost like the many they had encountered on their way to this cathedral. They’d vanish as soon as he tried to interact with them.

  "Will return…"

  The Whore-saint? Just who or what was it? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. At least, not right now.

  Chael moved deeper into the prayer hall.

  His gaze shifted across the chamber, and in the details he had ignored due to the sheer shock of what had happened just before. The architecture here was ancient, yet strangely untouched by time. The walls were lined with faded murals depicting strange, twisted figures draped in white veils with faceless heads bowed in reverence before a great altar.

  He moved forward slowly towards the door at the other end of the prayer hall.

  A couple of steps forward- he saw it.

  At the far end of the hall, towering above all else, stood a statue. Even in the dim light, it was nearly impossible to miss.

  It depicted a woman who was draped in flowing robes that clung to her figure in ways that seemed almost obscene for something placed in a place of worship. Her hands were raised, one in prayer, the other extended outward as if beckoning someone forward.

  Despite the craftsmanship, there was something deeply unsettling about it.

  The statue’s face was serene and its marble lips curved into the faintest smile. But her eyes-

  They were hollow.

  There were deep, dark pits carved into the stone, as if whatever had once been there had rotted away long ago.

  At the base of the statue, an inscription was carved into the stone.

  Shan’thura.

  Chael was certain it had something to with the Whore-saint, but there seemed to be more written down. Having Echidna around to translate would have been useful about now.

  Not that he cared too much about it, anyway. He was just a little intrigued.

  His blindfolded gaze lingered on the statue for a moment longer before his lips curled into a humorless smirk.

  "Religion here really was something else," he muttered under his breath.

  Then, without another word, he moved forward through the doorway and left the prayer hall.