49

  Sebastian stood alone in a vast, empty world of white. The void stretched endlessly in all directions, featureless and cold. In the far distance, he discerned a faint line on the horizon—sharp and unwavering, stretching as far as the eye could see.

  Curious, he moved toward it.

  Each step sent ripples through the ground, and with every movement, his limbs grew heavier. The earth beneath him began to yield, soft and viscous like tar. It clung to his legs, dragging him down. His feet sank deeper with every step, until his knees, his hips, and then his chest were consumed by the strange terrain. Panic gripped him as he tried to turn back, but his body refused to obey. His muscles seized, paralyzed. Only his head remained above the surface.

  He could see it now—what he had been walking toward. A tall, grey wall rising solemnly in the distance.

  “What are you doing? Stand above the surface,” said a voice.

  Sebastian looked to his right and saw Father Daniel standing above ground. Sebastian wondered why he didn’t drown like him. Sebastian tried to move his hand and find a solid ground to lift himself up, but he found none. This whole ground feels like a molasses, dense and thick, but not enough to walk or even stand on. Slowly he felt that he was sinking deeper into the ground and he still couldn’t find his way out.

  “I-I can’t! Help me!” Sebastian yelled as he struggle to stay afloat

  “The only one who can help you here, is you.” Pastor Daniel replied as he walked towards the wall.

  “H-how! How do you do that?!”

  “I already gave you the answer.” Pastor Daniel said as he looked back towards Sebastian. “Don’t take shortcuts and absorb everything.”

  Sebastian felt a thick substance enter his nose as he began to drown and struggle to stay afloat.

  “H-HELP!” Sebastian screamed as he jolted awake on his bed.

  His breath came in short, ragged bursts. Sweat soaked his skin, and his heart pounded against his ribcage. For a long moment, he lay there, eyes wide in the darkness, gripping the bedsheets like lifelines.

  It had been the most vivid dream he could recall. He could still feel the weight of the ground, the cold of that endless white void. Not to mention the appearance of his mentor, Pastor Daniel. And the wall—the wall. The one every martial artist spoke of. The final frontier. The boundary between man and monster. Between discipline and transcendence.

  Sebastian falls back into his bed. He wipes the sweats off his forehead and closes his eyes trying to decipher this weird dream he has. If that’s truly the great wall, then he’s really close to actually perfected his martial arts, but he can’t even reach the wall itself. He drowned before he could stand on the side of the great wall and that’s another dream that he needs to understand. What does Pastor Daniel mean by ‘don’t take shortcuts and absorb everything’? Why does he drown while his mentor could walk easily as if he’s walking on solid ground? There are too many questions with zero understanding.

  “Sebastian? We’re ready. Are you still asleep?”

  He sat up sharply. He had made plans with Dalia and Carlos for today.

  He just remembered that he made a plan with Dalia and Carlos today. He hurried into his armor, latching on his weapons with swift efficiency. His eyes landed on the blue torch resting atop the desk. Cold and inert, it gave off neither light nor heat. He already sent a letter as soon as he arrived in Avignon, the Longinus order are probably on their way to collect this relic. He only needed to guard it for a couple of days before he could let go of this wretched thing, but for now, he secured it on his belt and brought it wherever he went

  Sebastian opened the door and saw Dalia and Carlos who’re already waiting for a while. They both wear their usual sermon clothes and they both looked a little bit bothered when they saw what Sebastian was wearing.

  “Armor? Again?” Dalia sighed.

  “Did your retinue not pack a single spare outfit?” Carlos said with a mocking glance. “You haven’t even washed that thing—it still reeks of our last battle.”

  “I wear whatever I want.” Sebastian retorts with a frown. “Now let's go to church, we got things to do.”

  Carlos bristled. “Since when did you become the leader—?”

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  Dalia touched Carlos' shoulder to calm him down. She noticed that this friend of hers began to get even more angry with each passing day, but since they arrived in this city, she also noticed that this anger burst began to dwindle, even just a little bit.

  Sebastian walked in front and headed towards the carriage that’s already waiting for them outside. Today he needed to make sure that whatever he’s hearing at the banquet last night was true or not. Dalia and Carlos on the other hand just wanted to see if this event that Sebastian told them is true. They also noticed the expression from the noble last night. These nobles are hiding something from them. Regardless if what Sebastian says is true or not, they just won’t sit around in this palace and do nothing. Also, holding a sermon today won’t be a bad thing either to spread God's word, killing two birds with one stone.

  They all entered the Carriage and it took them towards the palace gate. But suddenly their carriage stopped and a knock came from outside their carriage.

  Dalia opened the door. “Yes, what is it?”

  A pair of guards stood outside, exchanging uneasy glances before one stepped forward.

  “Is there… any reason why you, my Saints, would wish to leave the palace today?”

  “We’re going to the church,” Dalia answered, voice calm. “To give a sermon. Is there a problem?”

  The guards hesitated, clearly nervous. “We—we simply believe that, perhaps, my Saints should… rest another day, for your health…”

  Dalia saw the false smile twitching on his lips. They were hiding something.

  “Is this an order?” Carlos asked coldly. “Are you telling us what we may and may not do?”

  “N-no, my Saint! I would never presume—!”

  “Then what is the issue?” Sebastian said, his voice iron.

  The guards looked at one another again, caught between their loyalty to Faust and their fear of opposing the Saints.

  Dalia offered a gentle smile. “Then how about this—you accompany us. Surely you’re only concerned for our safety, yes?”

  Relief washed over their faces.

  “Y-yes! Exactly! We’ll fetch our horses and escort you at once.”

  As they scrambled away, Dalia's smile faded.

  One of the guards began to run towards the stable while others tried their best to smile and look normal, but they’re really bad at it. Even a dumb person knew that this whole thing stinks, these guards must have had a secret that they’re trying so hard to hide. Sebastian wonders if things are really that bad in the city, maybe the word he heard last night was correct.

  The guards came back with several horses and they began their journey towards the church. Sebastian kept his full attention towards the situation outside and he noticed that the guards seems more on edge than yesterday. He also noticed that the guards seemed to be more exhausted and others seemed visibly injured with bandages wrapping around their body.

  “See?” Sebastian murmured. “There’s unrest in the city.”

  “The only question,” Carlos replied, “is which part. Riots are common in the outer city. But the middle city has always been safe.”

  “I heard that these rioters breach ‘the gate’. Maybe they’re already spread into the middle of the city.”

  “That’s impossible! Have you noticed how big the gates separating each section is?” Carlos smirked. “They need a miracle to breach that gate or even damage it.”

  Sebastian glanced at Carlos, he felt like he forgot the lesson he taught him.

  “Whatever is happening,” Dalia interjected gently, “let us focus on the sermon.”

  The ride towards the church became silent after that. Sebastian kept staring outside, while Carlos closed his eyes trying to ignore Sebastian. Dalia felt like she needed to do something about this bickering and animosity between Carlos and Sebastian. As Saints, they need to work together no matter what and teamwork is a very important thing.

  The carriage finally arrived at an extravagant church in the middle of the city. Surprisingly, there’s a lot of people there. These people looked wounded and many of them seemed to have a lot of things on their back. The difference from the immigrants Sebastian saw yesterday was, these wounds and injuries seem fresh and their luggage seems more unorganized.

  The door opened and Dalia stepped out immediately to greet the crowds. The guards who were following them began to push people aside to make way for the Saints. Many of these people seemed overjoyed by the Saints presence, while some just started from the sidelines without saying anything. Sebastian noticed a small group of people that eyed him from behind the cheering crowd. Their gazes seem sharp and hostile. Sebastian wonders why they all look at him like that. But the crowds of enthusiastic believers drown their presence.

  Sebastian finally reached the altar where Dalia began the sermon with a prayer. His eyes darted around the room as his uneasiness grew. Then he noticed some group of people entering the church and closing the door behind them. They began to form a line in the back of the crowds, shifting slowly to their position as they’re waiting for something. Their eyes are not an adoring eye like the believers in front, but some kind of malice and anger directly pointed towards Sebastian, Dalia and Carlos.

  “Today’s sermon,” Dalia began, “will be about compassion. Let us pray to our almighty, caring God, for our lost brethren, that they might find—”

  “Compassion?!”

  A shout cut through the hall. Dalia faltered.

  “Where was your compassion when we begged for it?!”

  Dalia seems shocked while Carlos looks at the source of the commotion. Sebastian began to hold the hilt of his hammer tightly, this is it, something bad is about to happen.

  “I-I am sorry? Who’re you?” Dalia responded.

  The groups laughed and then one of them said “Who are we?!”

  “Yes! Who are you people?!” shout Carlos.

  “WE ARE THE TRUE BELIEVER OF GOD!” all of them began to unsheathed their weapon out. “WE ARE THE REFORMIST!”

  The room exploded in a panic frenzy. The group of so-called Reformists began to step closer towards the altar. They don’t bother with other people who’re crying and moving away from their path, they already set their eyes on the guards and the Saints. An arrow pierced the tense atmosphere as it flew straight towards Dalia. A scream can be heard as they watched the arrow pierced and let out a clicking sound.

  Sebastian stood firm blocking the arrow. He looked at the reformists and he finally identified them all.

  His eyes locked on the attackers.

  “I only need one of you to talk,” he said, voice like steel. “The rest of you—”

  He drew his hammer.

  “—will be disposed of.”