All the city guards gathered around the gates along with Faust, the Saints, and the Inquisitor. Uncertainty hung in the air as they were about to open the gate. This whole plan could go up in smoke and they could lose the entire city. But Faust was confident—with the help of the Inquisitor and the Saints, this plan would work flawlessly.

  Archers were scattered around the walls and on the roofs of the buildings in the area. They watched nervously as some of the soldiers on the tower began signaling each other to open the gate. This was the moment they’d been waiting for: the make-or-break event that would decide the end of this riot.

  The gate slowly opened, and the screams of many could be heard from behind it. All the guards on the ground readied their shields in anticipation. Sweat poured down their faces as they began to see the rioters trying to force their way in. That was far too many people for this number of guards to handle if anything went wrong. They hoped that Constantia's predictions about the enemy were true—or they'd be massacred today.

  Sebastian readied his weapons while keeping an eye on the Inquisitors. Then he looked back toward his fellow Saints in the backline along with the other support personnel. Mages began chanting their spells, and priests began praying. A gentle light touched each guard in the area, giving them a little comfort in this sea of anxiety.

  “Are you sure you're going to keep an eye on us?” Constantia bickered. “Don’t let your attention go elsewhere, my Saint. Or you might lose us.”

  Sebastian kept his mouth shut. He had nothing to say to these people. All he wanted now was to see if they held up their end of the bargain. If they moved suspiciously or he sensed anything amiss, he wouldn't hesitate to end them all right here.

  The gates opened, and the rioters began to flood the area like a massive tidal wave. Arrows rained down from the guards, massacring anyone foolish enough to charge without a shield. Without waiting any further, Constantia charged into the enemy line, followed by Marcus and Antonius. The first kill by the ground troops was done by her—she propelled herself with her feet and stabbed five people in a single piercing attack.

  Sebastian followed close behind. He smashed one of the attacking rioters in the skull before sending everyone around him flying with his shield. Many others came attacking, but he disposed of them easily. This fight would not be won with fancy tactics. This was a brutal onslaught of stamina and endurance. Using graceful movements and finesse here was foolishness. The enemy commander still hadn’t shown themselves. If there was a time to go all out, it was when they appeared.

  Carlos began raising golems and sent them all to the frontline. Learning from previous battles, he focused on creating a more manageable army of golems rather than creating as many as he could. Their movements were more fluid, and their strength had increased. He looked overjoyed at how effective his minions had become.

  Then he looked at Sebastian up front. The hatred he felt in his heart burned scalding hot. He blamed everything that had happened on him: the event in the forest and now the riot in the city. Misfortune had haunted their group since Sebastian joined. Not to mention the special treatment and excess attention Dalia gave him. Remembering what happened last night—even when Dalia was deep in prayer, she still thought about Sebastian—and that irritated him deeply.

  Some of the rioters managed to slip past Sebastian and the Inquisitors. Even with their might and skill, this gate was too big to contain. The sound of clashing metal ignited the spark of the battlefield. The guards held their lines bravely while the rioters attacked like mad dogs. From the back, the guards' pikemen stabbed anyone they could see.

  A bloodbath occurred as the guards stood their ground with the help of archers, mages, and pikemen. Some fell as enemy blades wounded them grievously, while others danced in the chaos, moving by pure instinct to survive.

  The rioters' tides feel endless. Driven by their fanaticism they’re ready to throw themselves into death’s maw. The priest and Dalia are healing and blessing the guards with everything they got. The wounds are stacking up and the lines are slowly being pushed back. However, they still give their all towards the guards to fight valiantly.

  “What are you doing?!” Faust yelled. “Push them! Why are you moving backwards, you idiots?!”

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  Faust holds some kind of idol in his hand. That’s his ticket way out if anything goes awry here. All he needs to do is snap it and he’ll be teleported back into his palace. Carriages are already waiting for him to depart towards the port and ships are ready to sail as soon as he arrives. However, that plan was the final last resort. He wouldn’t let this city fall without fighting first.

  Faust sent a wave of holy magic around him. Boosting the stamina and strength of every guard around. Archers began to increase the speed they’re shooting the ground guards began pushing the enemy back even just a little.

  Hundreds of bodies piled up as the guards held their ground. Those bodies drenched the ground and made it slippery. Eventually, the corpses elevated the terrain so the other rioters gained the high ground and managed to breach the shield line. The guards' formation began to crack as the rioters disrupted their core. Worry set in—if the line broke now, it would all be over.

  “MARCUS, ANTONIUS, GO BACK AND ASSIST THE GUARDS!” Constantia commanded as she pierced through many of the rioters around. “I’LL STAY HERE WITH THE SAINT! NOW GO!”

  Sebastian slammed his hammer to the ground and flattened a group of rioters that came to him. Then he grabbed one of them and slammed them against the other rioters. His attack was brutal and yet effective. His black armor slowly began to change into burgundy. His hammer and shield are slowly filled with gore and many humans remain that stick to it like a glue.

  Noticing the Inquisitor split their forces. Sebastian chose to keep a watch on Constantia. She’s the leader of the pack and she’s the mastermind behind anything that they’re planning. He began to close the distance between him and her. Making sure that he always has a line of sight of her at all times.

  “NOW, IT’S JUST YOU AND ME, SAINT!” Constantia yelled.

  Sebastian swung his hammer like a whirlwind, sending most of the rioters flying before he said, “Whatever plan you’re thinking of doing, I’ll make sure to foil it!”

  “HOW IDIOTIC! DON’T YOU REALIZE IT?!” Constantia laughed as she continued butchering everyone around her. “YOU’RE ALREADY PARTICIPATING IN IT!”

  Sebastian bashed with his shield and kicked one of the rioters in the chest. Then suddenly, he swung his hammer at Constantia. The ringing sound from the clash of their weapons echoed across the battlefield. The tip of Constantia's spear held against the blunt force of Sebastian’s hammer. Despite the impact, the spear didn’t bend or lose its sharpness. They pulled back their attack and began to kill the rioters around them again.

  “YOU HAVE GROWN!” Constantia shouted. “BUT YOU. ARE. STILL. NOTHING!”

  Air began to pool around Constantia’s spear, swirling like a tornado. Then she thrust it, and it burst violently toward Sebastian and the rioters. Sebastian managed to block the attack with his shield, but the force was tremendous. It sent a ringing sensation throughout his body. Whatever Constantia had done with that attack, it could’ve killed him if he hadn’t been careful.

  That was the difference between a monster and a martial artist. A monster’s attacks inflicted raw, blunt damage. But a martial artist’s strike was a precision tool. All they needed was a single opening to end a life. He couldn’t let his guard down—not around these Inquisitors. They had once cornered him in the church, and he believed they were holding back. If the three of them went all out now, he wasn’t sure he’d survive.

  Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept across the battlefield. Dust swirled into the air, and the entire area was engulfed in a mist of dirt.

  “IT’S THE PROPHET!” one of the rioters shouted from behind the mist. “HE HAS COME TO AID US!”

  Constantia’s ears and eyes snapped toward the approaching figure from the gate. She was sure Marcus and Antonius had heard the commotion. She diverted her focus from Sebastian and braced herself for what was to come.

  Ipsilas had entered the battlefield. Now only God's grace and a miracle could help them.

  Sebastian readied his shield. He only knows that this ‘prophet’ is supposed to be a mage. He doesn’t know the extent of his power, but one thing is for sure. For him to control this astronomical number of heretics. He must be really powerful.

  Without even a movement in the wind, Sebastian felt a massive blow against his shield. It sent him flying far into the backline before his body crashed into the rooftop of a building. He barely registered what had happened before another gut-punching strike sent him crashing through several floors until he hit the ground level.

  Everyone who saw this was stunned. They didn’t even see the attack coming and had no idea where it had originated. Dalia felt a presence similar to the one from last night. Another black hole. But this one was different. It was far larger. Far more terrifying. And far more ancient than anything she had ever encountered.

  A white-robed figure appeared as the dust settled. It was the Prophet himself, surrounded by his followers. Constantia could feel the immense pressure he emitted. He was powerful—insanely powerful. Even she would have run if she didn’t have to fight him. But fate said otherwise. This monster was her target. The one she had to kill.

  Even if she didn’t know how.

  “IPSILAS! YOU’VE FINALLY SHOWN YOURSELF!”

  Sebastian lay unconscious on the floor. His body was a wreck, covered in wounds. But the sound of Constantia yelling jolted him awake. That cursed name rang in his ears. And now, there was something else—something darker—lingering in his mind.

  A whisper.

  A strange and alluring whisper…

  from behind the veil of reality.