The fifth mural showed twin moons shining down from the sky, casting their pale glow upon the new world that had been left in the wake of the rebellion.
The city had changed.
The streets were filled with people who seemed to be laughing, embracing, and celebrating. There were no signs of battle and no grief for the fallen.
At the heart of it all, the Saintess of Carnage stood among them with her fist raised in a battle cry.
She was no longer just their leader. Chael could tell that the people had started to see her as something more.
Chael’s gaze drifted lower, and a flicker of recognition cast across his face. ‘There it is…’
At the very edge of the mural, carved into the stone outside the cathedral, stood a statue of her.
It stood as massive and commanding as he remembered. His gaze drifted to the base of the statue where countless people were knelt, worshipping her.
‘Strange…’ Chael thought with a frown, ‘Why turn her into a god?’
Something about that made his stomach turn. He understood that they may have respected her greatly, but worshipping her - another human being - with religious devotion was something Chael had never heard of before.
He turned his attention to the next mural.
And then, he froze.
The sixth mural was broken.
The stone was shattered, with deep cracks running through its surface. There were entire sections missing as if someone, or something, had deliberately destroyed it.
The previous murals had been perfectly preserved without a single mark of decay. And just like everything else inside this cathedral, it seemed untouched by time.
But this? This had been defaced.
His chest tightened painfully. It seemed that someone had wanted to erase this part of the story.
But why? And for what?
He couldn’t see what it once depicted, but he knew that whatever here… was meant to be forgotten.
Chael’s gaze lingered on the broken mural for a while, then stepped toward the sixth. The unease from the broken one still gnawed at the back of his mind, but whatever had been erased, this next carving was left untouched.
And when Chael saw it, he involuntarily took a step back and almost dropped his spear.
The scene had changed again, but this time, it wasn’t a depiction of war, victory, or celebration. It was suffering.
The denizens of Nyrethil, the very people who had once praised and worshipped Yue Yuelian, were clutching their heads in agony. Their carved faces were twisted in expressions of madness and their bodies were contorted in unnatural shapes.
Some of them were changing.
Their limbs were stretched and twisted into grotesque forms. Some figures no longer resembled people at all, and their silhouettes warped into the shapes of monsters.
Others were barely human, their bodies flickering as though they were slipping in and out of existence. Almost as if they were…
‘Ghosts…’ Chael’s stomach tightened. They strongly resembled the nature of the ghosts that he had encountered so far.
His mind reeled as he stared at the broken and tormented figures. He had encountered both spirits and other creatures in this place. He had always suspected that they were once humans, but now… now it was horrifyingly clear that they were.
His breath felt cold as it left him. His eyes turned to the fifth mural. Just what had happened in that mural for such a drastic change?
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Had the city’s fall been more than just a change in rule? Had something… else taken hold after the Saintess had won?
Had she done this?
Chael’s expression darkened as he turned to the seventh mural.
This was the final depiction.
The Saintess of Carnage, the woman who had been worshipped, celebrated, and praised as a hero, was being burned at the stake.
The flames consumed her and licked at the air as it swallowed her figure whole. She stood bound and unmoving. The people who had once hailed her now surrounded her in a circle, their faces twisted with rage and despair.
Chael stared coldly, "So… this was how it ended for her?"
He should have felt nothing. And yet, he felt anger.
Hatred.
For her.
‘This is what you brought upon them?’
She had led them into war, shattered the kingdom’s foundation, and cast down its rulers, and for what?
To curse her own people? To drive them into madness, to twist them into creatures of nightmares?
Chael was sure the answer would’ve been in the broken mural, but one thing was certain.
She deserved this.
He inhaled deeply and stepped back. His heart was still pounding, and his hands still curled into fists.
His eyes went back to the first mural, showing the thriving kingdom Nyrethil had once been. The people seemed happy. There were no wars and no conflict. And this Saintess had bought carnage upon them damned even after death.
Her followers who had once fought for her devoutly, among them the Hollowed Choir, were now undead and couldn’t find peace even after they had lost their humanity.
Chael sighed and finally turned his back to the murals. This trip had been useful, most certainly. He now understood what has transpired in this place, more or less, which led it to become the way it is now.
But none of that information gave him a lead on how to get out of this godforsaken place.
The faint fire light he was holding illuminated the thousands of leather-cased books stacked in these dark shelves.
Chael pressed his lips as he walked towards the door. For now, his place was to get back to the room and bring Echidna over here and have her look at some of these books. If they were lucky, hopefully, they might get a lead.
Else?
Well…
The attack came fast, but not fast enough.
Chael’s instincts flared the moment he heard the faint shuffle of movement from behind the bookshelves. Before the assailant could even get close, Chael sidestepped effortlessly, spun around, and drove his spear forward, and stopped just short of pressing it against the man’s throat.
The bald man stumbled back with his hands immediately raised in surrender. His breath came out shaky, and his wide eyes darted from the spearhead to Chael’s blindfolded expression.
"Alright, alright! Let’s all just relax for a moment, yeah?" the man stammered. His voice was half-playful and half-rough.
Chael didn’t move. His grip on the spear remained firm, and his face was ice-cold as usual.
Internally though, he was shocked beyond belief, ‘A human? Here?’
His blindfolded gaze narrowed. No, something wasn’t right.
The bald man cleared his throat nervously. "Listen, I didn’t mean to startle you, friend. I’m just a humble merchant, nothing more!"
Chael’s brow twitched. "Merchant?"
He lowered the spear just slightly. "A merchant? In this place?"
The bald man straightened and brushed off his worn coat as if he was trying to regain some dignity.
"That’s right," he said proudly. "A proper merchant, at your service! Name’s Patches."
Chael simply stared at him.
Patches spread his arms as if that explained everything. "You never know when someone might need a good deal, eh? Life’s all about opportunities!"
Chael scoffed. "Opportunities? Who the hell are your customers in this forsaken place?"
At that, Patches had the audacity to look offended. "Now, now. That’s a rude thing to ask a businessman!"
He put a hand to his chest as if personally wounded. "A trader never reveals his clients, after all."
Chael’s patience was already hanging by a thread, and this idiot had the nerve to act like he was running a proper shop in the middle of this cursed cathedral?
Patches, sensing the tension, quickly raised his hands again. "Look, no need to get all grim! I swear on my good name, I’m just here to make a living like any honest man."
Chael gave him a long, hard look.
There was something off about him. Not in the way the Hollowed Choir or the knights were off.
No, this man was off in a different way.
He was too confident and too at ease, almost as if he belonged here.
Chael slowly withdrew the spear, but his stare remained calculating. This man was obviously not as strong as him, so regardless of who he was, he didn’t pose an immediate threat.
Patches grinned, rubbing his neck where the spear had just been. "See? No need for all that violence, Miss! Let’s talk business, eh?"
Miss? Miss?? Did this bastard think he was a woman?
Chael resisted the urge to punch this fool in the face.
How should Chael handle Patches?
