Chapter 125 - The Day I Witnessed a Miracle

  A strange calm fell over the air as the final system notifications faded from the space before Adam's eyes. The shift was immediate—Drake’s body, once locked in tension, slackened in his arms as if some immense weight had finally lifted. The radiant wings, those maddening extensions of divine energy that had fought tooth and nail against them, no longer flared with aggression. They did not vanish as Adam had expected. Instead, they drooped slightly, folding with gentle, restrained movements, their luminescence pulsing slowly as if breathing.

  On the floating platforms conjured by Angela’s skill, both Katya and Vaelric collapsed onto their knees. Exhausted and wounded, they were still conscious, catching their breath with heavy chests and sweat across their pale faces. Neither of them said a word. The battle had been short, but the strain had been anything but minimal. Slowly, the glowing glyphs that formed their hovering platforms began to dim and lower toward the ruined ground, responding to Angela’s weakening command.

  Adam adjusted his grip on Drake, whose head lolled slightly toward his shoulder, barely conscious. Without delay, he flew down to meet the others, landing with care beside a large rock at the base of the broken ridge. He set his friend down against the stone, propping him into a seated position. The moment Drake began to move, his eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused and pained. His hands instinctively lifted toward his forehead.

  “Ouch...”

  He muttered as his fingers brushed over fresh wounds—deep, angry lacerations left behind by the parasite-tendrils Adam had used to pierce and connect them. His palms were raw and bloodied, but nothing serious.

  Adam stepped back for only a second, just enough to confirm that the blond was conscious and stable, before he spun around sharply and rushed toward Angela. She was standing several meters away, her arm outstretched, still holding the glowing brush that had maintained the floating platforms.

  Her fingers trembled around the shaft of the brush, and her body swayed ever so slightly, as if the effort of channeling her energy for so long had nearly drained her to collapse. The second her work was no longer needed, the lines connecting her spell to the air faltered, and the platforms dissolved—melting back into the earth like runny watercolor on a ruined canvas. The boy reached her just in time to catch her arm before she stumbled.

  “Angela!”

  He said, his voice sharp with concern.

  “The divine energy inside you... It's parasitic. It’s not just dormant. It’s feeding off you. I need to remove it—just like you did back in Velmoria with the Paladin Champion class the system forced on you.”

  Angela didn’t reply at first. She was panting hard, sweat running down her brow. But she heard him. Her lashes flickered, and with a single nod—small but determined—she lifted her brush again with a shaky hand. Adam watched closely as she began to draw a strange symbol across the back of her other hand, her fingers moving with practiced precision despite her fatigue.

  Two system screens flashed in Adam’s cursed vision as her skill activated once more:

  In front of them, as if peeled from the air, a strange card-like object materialized between Angela’s outstretched fingers. It was no ordinary object; the card shimmered faintly and began to fill in from the edges inward, as if painted by an unseen force.

  A figure appeared on it—elegant, imposing, almost celestial. It had the slender body of a divine being, with pure white wings unfurled across a radiant sky. But the face... the face was something else entirely. The canvas where the face should have been had been violently scribbled out in black, jagged lines, twisted and overlapping, like someone trying to erase its identity or hide something unspeakable.

  Angela collapsed to her knees, the card clutched tightly in her trembling hands. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, each breath ragged and labored as though she had just sprinted through the entirety of a battlefield. Adam, witnessing her distress, immediately closed the distance between them. He reached out, his hands gently grasping her shoulders to steady her.

  "Are you alright?"

  He said, his voice laced with concern. As he helped her to her feet, his gaze inadvertently fell upon the card she held. He had been aware of her ability to encapsulate skills within these mystical parchments, but the intricate details had always eluded him. Now, with the card in clear view, his 'Cursed Vision' activated instinctively, unveiling a cascade of information before his eyes:

  Adam's breath caught in his throat. The revelation was staggering, a deluge of information that answered some questions but simultaneously birthed countless more. The implications were profound and unsettling. However, the luxury of contemplation was a fleeting one.

  The distant clamor of hurried footsteps and the sharp bark of commands shattered the brief silence. The echoes of their recent aerial skirmish had not gone unnoticed. From the remnants of the ruined city, a contingent of human soldiers emerged, their armor glinting dully under the overcast sky. The majority bore standard-issue gear—chainmail hauberks, iron helmets, and swords that had seen better days. Yet, at the forefront stood a figure that commanded immediate attention.

  Clad in a resplendent armor of pristine white accented with gold filigree, the paladin exuded an aura of unwavering authority. The heavy plate gleamed despite the grime of the battlefield, and in his gauntleted hands, he wielded a massive two-handed sword that seemed to hum with latent divine energy. The blade itself was a masterpiece, its surface etched with holy runes that pulsed faintly with a golden light.

  The soldiers fanned out, forming a semi-circle around Adam and his companions, their expressions a mixture of caution and aggression. Weapons were drawn, the metallic hiss of steel against scabbard slicing through the tension-laden air.

  "Drop your weapons!"

  One of the soldiers commanded, his voice edged with hastiness.

  "Identify yourselves!"

  Another chimed in. The paladin, however, raised a hand, signaling his men to hold their positions. His piercing gaze swept over the group, assessing each member with a discerning eye. When his eyes settled on Drake, who was still slumped against the rock, bloodied and battered, a flicker of recognition crossed his face.

  "Hold!"

  The paladin ordered, his voice calm yet authoritative.

  "These are not our enemies. Can't you see? They are wounded, battle-worn."

  He took a step closer, his gaze narrowing as he examined Drake more intently.

  "And this one... he’s a goddess’ child as well!"

  The soldiers exchanged uncertain glances, the tension in their stances easing slightly but not dissipating entirely. The paladin turned his attention back to Adam and the others.

  "I am Sir Eldric of the Holy Vanguard, a Paladin Knight."

  He introduced himself, his tone measured.

  "We mean you no harm. Tell us, what has transpired here?"

  Adam remained silent for a moment, trying to decide how much to say and how quickly. Everything about this encounter was dangerous. The paladin before them wasn’t just another soldier—he was a high-ranking officer in Arianka’s church at Gideon’s level. One mistake, one poorly chosen word, could throw them into the kind of conflict they weren’t ready to survive. Eventually, he raised his head and spoke, his voice steady.

  “We were attacked by a malevolent force.”

  He said, gesturing toward Drake with a nod.

  “Our comrade was targeted and overwhelmed. We did everything in our power to suppress it before it could take us out. It was a creature unlike anything we’ve seen before.”

  Sir Eldric stared at Drake with intense focus, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, standing close enough that the sheer weight of the divine energy emanating from his armor brushed against Adam’s skin like burning air.

  “I feel no lies in your words.”

  Eldric said at last, much to Adam’s surprise and the inner laugh of Malzaphir inside his head.

  “Whatever that creature was, it’s been burned away. But everything is good; the light of Arianka still surrounds him, stronger than in any I’ve seen. Whatever you were fighting must have been formidable.”

  Without waiting for protest or hesitation, Eldric turned and gave a sharp command to his soldiers.

  “Tend to their wounds. We will not abandon those chosen by the goddess, no matter how strange the circumstances.”

  Several of the soldiers began moving instantly, sheathing their weapons and opening packs with medical supplies, enchanted bandages, and salves glowing faintly with divine warmth. Eldric glanced back at Adam.

  “When he’s recovered, I’ll speak to him myself. Until then, rest. You’re safe now, and under the Vanguard’s protection.”

  Adam gave him a slow, respectful nod.

  “Thank you.”

  He said simply, allowing no hint of tension to show in his voice. Then he stepped aside, letting the soldiers work. The group remained still as the humans began their tasks. Angela was the first to be tended, one of the soldiers gently guiding her to sit down while another inspected her bruises and checked her pulse. Katya, reluctant at first, finally allowed them to clean the gash on her upper arm, grimacing as the ointment tingled.

  Vaelric remained quiet the entire time, his posture rigid, gaze steady. Adam watched him out of the corner of his eye. He was clearly nervous—being this close to pure divine energy had to be agonizing—but somehow, the vampire managed to keep his composure. He played his role perfectly, saying nothing, showing no fangs, his features locked in an almost expressionless calm. No one seemed to notice the tension running through him like a taut wire. Eldric himself knelt beside Drake and gently reached out to help the blond man sit up.

  “You’re lucky. I’ve never seen a Paladin Champion in such a state. Whatever was fighting you wasn’t ordinary evil.”

  He paused, then nodded as if reassuring himself.

  “But don’t worry. Near the central temple, your body will recover. You’re one of us as well, right? I can faintly feel it; a pilgrim, perhaps? We’ll take care of you all.”

  They were escorted soon after. The soldiers helped everyone to their feet, allowing the wounded to lean on them where needed. The walk across the ruins of Uldroth was a quiet one, each of them processing the aftermath in silence. The broken remnants of the city were everywhere—collapsed towers, shattered stones, overgrown streets that had once been paved with marble.

  The deeper they went, the stronger the divine pressure became, saturating the very air with the weight of celestial authority. Adam could feel it on his skin like a second atmosphere, dense and heavy, and Vaelric had begun to sweat despite the coolness he had just minutes ago.

  Up ahead, the silhouette of the camp came into view. It wasn’t enormous, but it was clearly fortified. Rows of white tents had been pitched near what used to be the city’s central plaza, surrounded by tall banners bearing the sunburst emblem of Arianka. Divine lanterns burned at every corner, casting golden light that pushed away all shadow. Though the number of troops was relatively small—perhaps a few dozen at most—the aura of divine presence made it feel like an army.

  At the very center, behind layers of enchantments and stationed guards, the towering golden temple rose like a beacon, reaching for the sky. Adam knew, without needing to ask, that this was the place. The heart of the Holy Vanguard’s operation.

  By the time they reached the large command tent erected near the heart of the encampment, the tension in Adam’s chest hadn’t faded, though the others seemed to breathe a little easier. Soldiers guided them inside, pushing open the heavy flaps of the canvas structure to reveal a wide interior furnished with simple benches, wooden tables, and rolled maps pinned to boards. The center of the space was clearly designed for tactical meetings, not comfort, but the warmth radiating from the consecrated ground beneath their feet made it hard to feel anything but gradually renewed.

  They were gestured toward the benches, and without resistance, the group sat. Angela, Katya, and Drake had regained most of their strength, the residual divine energy in the air evidently healing their bodies at a rapid pace. Katya looked exhausted but whole, her previous wounds sealed cleanly. Drake, for all the pain he’d endured earlier, now looked more like someone who had simply passed out from exhaustion rather than having been violently consumed by a parasitic force.

  The divine aura flowing through the camp didn’t seem to distinguish between allies or strangers—it restored any human it touched. But that blessing didn’t extend to everyone. Vaelric’s skin remained a bit pale and tight, and the corners of his mouth pulled in a restrained grimace. He sat without comment, keeping himself upright, but the twitch in his jaw and the shallow rhythm of his breathing betrayed the pain. Adam wasn’t faring much better. Though his body was tougher than most due to his mutations and class traits, the wounds from the divine assault still throbbed beneath his skin. And unlike the others, his regeneration had done little to repair the damage caused by Drake’s holy wings.

  As they settled, Adam remained silent, his mind spiraling through the fragments of everything they had just been through. He couldn’t ignore the implications. At first, he had been skeptical of the nature of divine energy—after all, the so-called blessing they had encountered had acted more like a trap. But now, surrounded by the temple’s energy once more and seeing its effects on humans, there was no denying it. This was divine energy. Pure, powerful, and undeniably restorative. So why had it turned parasitic in Drake? His thoughts circled back to the name of the skill he’d absorbed—Arianka’s Infection, and a Level 10 skill no less. A parasitic skill with a description that clearly referenced something else... God’s Plague. He needed more information.

  Adam discreetly opened his status window while the others engaged in quiet conversation with the soldiers or simply caught their breath. He knew the inhabitants of the scenarios couldn’t see the system interface, so he could check it out at will. That gave him a few minutes to review what he needed. His fingers moved quickly as he pulled up the new skill he had obtained

  A second notification followed:

  Adam read the descriptions carefully. They were informative, but incomplete. [God's Plague] wasn't a parasitic skill itself—it was a modifier. It empowered other skills to affect divine beings. That was its sole function. So if Arianka’s Infection was currently affecting people like Drake, and if its behavior resembled parasitic mental domination, then the link had to be deeper. Perhaps God’s Plague had enhanced or mutated it somehow, but that wasn’t the true source. He was sure of it. Something else was at play, something that happened to infect the goddesses’ divine energy, or perhaps…

  He reached out in the quiet of his mind and called.

  “Malzaphir, is it possible for a god to infect another god with something like this?”

  The boy muttered inwardly. The answer was immediate and laced with mocking amusement. Malzaphir’s laughter bloomed in his mind, deep and crackling like an open furnace.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “No.”

  The ArchDevil replied, as if the very idea was hilarious.

  “An ancient contract binds gods and great demons. One older than your kind’s oldest myths. They are forbidden from harming one another directly. No divine being can infect another—no curses, no violence.”

  Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at the tent floor while he parsed the deeper meaning.

  “I see… not 'directly’, huh?”

  He said under his breath.

  “So if another entity caused this infection… it must be something external. Maybe Arianka isn’t the source. Maybe she’s even a victim.”

  Adam clutched his fists. Could it be the influence of other users on that scenario again? Just like with Lord Varek… But it was hard to assure it was, he needed even more information.

  “Now you’re thinking like a proper contractor.”

  Malzaphir chuckled, pleased.

  “That deduction didn’t even cost you anything. Let’s see if you can connect the dots.”

  The moment the voice echoed through his mind, Adam froze. He didn’t need to hear more. The implications were immediate and damning. The ArchDevil knew. That wasn't speculation or theory—Malzaphir understood exactly what was going on but had chosen not to explain it, nothing to be surprised about.

  But that decision alone, that deliberate withholding of truth, told Adam everything he needed. Whatever was happening with Arianka, with the divine energy, with the infection that had nearly overtaken Drake... it was part of something larger. Maybe even something ancient, it was his first time dealing with higher beings affecting directly in a scenario, so they needed to act with caution.

  If a being like Malzaphir, a creature who thrived on chaos and manipulation, was actively choosing to stay quiet, then the truth had to be something he considered funny enough to conceal. The boy didn’t speak, he simply stared ahead as that realization tightened like a chain around his chest.

  As Adam remained seated, lost in thought, trying to make sense of the chain of revelations that had just struck him one after another, he became aware of movement beside him. The wooden bench creaked slightly under added weight, and when he turned his head, he found Sir Eldric taking a seat beside him, looking surprisingly casual for someone in gleaming plate armor. The paladin stretched slightly and let out a breath before speaking.

  “I had a short word with your friend.”

  He began, his voice calm and almost conversational.

  “Paladin Drake Shaw, he said his name was. Quite the humble man, despite what he’s managed to accomplish. He told me he had recently completed the holy mission from the goddess to join our ranks, and slaying a Vampire Lord no less.”

  Adam kept his expression neutral, immediately understanding where this was going. He said nothing for the moment, letting the paladin continue.

  “It’s rare, almost unheard of, in fact. Most paladins begin as Acolytes. Few became Knights, most of them even dream of making it to Champion, and fewer still do so without decades of service and ritual preparation. But your friend… he became one immediately upon completing the task. That’s divine favor if I’ve ever seen it.”

  Eldric went on. He chuckled softly, then added.

  “He also said you and one of the women traveling with you are undergoing your own holy tasks. I’ll admit... some things don’t fully add up. But I can’t deny that he’s the real deal. I can feel the purity in his aura. He’s a Champion. That much is certain.”

  Adam nodded slowly, now fully aware of what Drake had done and why. It made sense—after all, he and Angela had received the same system reward and completed the same hidden subplot. But neither of them had access to the divine energy any longer. Both had sealed the class, suppressing their divine signatures.

  That meant only Drake looked and felt like a Paladin in the eyes of these people. In a way, it was the perfect cover. Adam followed Eldric’s lead and leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands as if reflecting.

  “Yes, that’s true. I was assigned a mission as well... It’s why we’re here. It has something to do with the giants.”

  As he spoke, a specific detail returned to him—one of the objectives that had been listed in the system message during the appearance of the hidden subplot. His expression hardened a little as he looked at Eldric.

  “I’ve been tasked with finding and eliminating Thalgrun Ironhearth.”

  At the mention of the name, Eldric blinked in surprise, then smiled wide with what seemed like genuine astonishment.

  “Now that is remarkable. You really are blessed by Her light, aren’t you?”

  The paladin said and then paused to laugh softly.

  “You won’t believe it, but that savage—Thalgrun—he was captured just yesterday. Along with a few of his lieutenants. We’ve got him locked up not far from here. We built a makeshift prison out of the ruins on the east side of the city. It’s not the most secure structure, but he’s not going anywhere.”

  Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, absorbing every word.

  “Why did you capture him?”

  He asked with a steady but pointed voice. Eldric misunderstood the question, interpreting it through the lens of his own bias. He laughed again, louder this time.

  “Ah, yes, I see your meaning. Why not just execute the brutes and be done with it? Believe me, many of us asked the same. But we received a direct oracle from the goddess. A rare one. She said we were to spare that giant and most of the warriors who followed him. So when they tried crossing into sacred territory, we responded, of course—but when the battle was won, we captured them instead of finishing them off. Orders are orders.”

  Adam tilted his head slightly.

  “You said most of them were spared. What happened to the rest?”

  Eldric grinned in a way that sent a cold shiver crawling down Adam’s spine.

  “Well, the goddess didn’t say all, now did she? Only ‘the majority’. So the ones not included in that divine mercy—well, we needed target practice, and the troops that weren’t picked to join the invasion of Velmoria had plenty of pent-up aggression. So, we let them vent. Gave them something to break. Some fun. I’m sure you understand.”

  Adam kept his face still. Inside, he felt a rising tide of disgust clawing at his throat, but he swallowed it down before it could manifest in any gesture or expression. The laughter, the casual disregard for lives that had been deemed disposable—it was the kind of cruelty he had expected from the Paladins of Arianka, but hearing it firsthand was still difficult to ignore. He forced his voice to remain calm and polite as he turned slightly toward Eldric.

  “In that case, would it be possible for you to take me to Thalgrun Ironhearth? If the goddess herself spared him, I assume I’ll be permitted to deal with him myself. I need to continue with my mission.”

  Eldric seemed to consider it for a second before nodding with ease. “Of course,” he replied. “If it’s part of your divine task, then you’ll want to see it through. I’ll take you to him myself.”

  Adam said steadily.

  “I’ll go with the rest of my group.”

  He added, already signaling with his eyes to the others nearby. Drake was sitting on a stool just a few meters away, gently rotating his shoulder with a quiet grimace. Angela stood next to him, arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she glanced toward the tent entrance. Katya leaned against one of the inner canvas walls, arms limp at her sides, her expression vacant as she remained deep in thought. Vaelric, meanwhile, had taken to pacing a short distance away from the others, no doubt doing his best to act casual among so much divine energy.

  Eldric raised a hand and offered a small shrug.

  “That may not be entirely in line with tradition. A divine mission is meant to be fulfilled by the chosen alone. Having companions at your side, especially when the will of the goddess is involved... it complicates things.”

  Adam didn’t miss a beat.

  “They won’t interfere, just as we didn’t interfere willingly when Drake completed his mission. We were there to witness it. Nothing more. It’s the same now.”

  He said, his voice calm but firm. That gave Eldric pause. The older paladin gave Adam a lingering glance, clearly reviewing the logic behind that. After a moment, he exhaled through his nose and gave a nod of acceptance.

  “Very well, that does make sense. And clearly, your companion’s trial had witnesses as well. Come. I’ll take you to the prison.”

  Without another word, Adam stood, gathering the others with a quick tilt of his head. Angela moved without question. Katya followed with a frustrated huff, brushing some dust off her coat. Drake took a moment longer, pushing himself up from the bench, still looking sore but walking steadily. Vaelric, to his credit, played the part of a calm traveler, falling into step behind Adam without hesitation. Eldric led the way, the back of his heavy armor gleaming beneath the morning light as they stepped out of the command tent and reentered the encampment.

  As they walked, the boy could feel it. Every step closer to the great temple amplified the sensation. The divine energy suffused the air like a thick perfume, cloying and oppressive. It soaked into his skin, made his cursed blood churn and hiss inside his veins. By the time they passed within sight of the towering structure, it had become nearly unbearable.

  The temple was enormous—reaching higher than any building Adam had seen in this world so far. Constructed from polished white stone that shimmered even under cloudy skies, it radiated light as if from within. Golden spires jutted from its sides, each etched with sacred runes. Enormous archways circled its base, and the pure, condensed energy emanating from it made Adam feel as though he were walking through boiling air. Drake was the one who spoke.

  “Is it true that one of the Paladin Paragons resides there?”

  He asked casually, his tone even. Eldric turned slightly, his expression brightening as he gestured toward the temple.

  “Indeed. After the destruction of Uldroth, the goddess Arianka declared this site sacred ground. The temple was built upon her command, a monument to her light and a beacon of purity over what was once a place of corruption and filth. And yes, one of the Paragons rests there in meditation and communion with the goddess herself. He slumbers until the day he is called upon. May we never need that day.”

  Adam said nothing and just kept walking. The sheer volume of divine energy made his skin itch, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. Soon, Eldric veered toward the east side of the ruins, gesturing them down a sloped path of crumbled stone and scattered remnants of once-proud structures.

  Eventually, they arrived. If the paladin had called it a makeshift prison, Adam couldn’t imagine what a real one looked like. The structure before them was immense—built into what remained of the old fortress walls, the ruined bones of ancient Uldroth. Massive archways had been reinforced with steel, and within, entire chambers of magical rebar and divine-infused stone had been shaped into containment cells. The very walls glowed with holy energy. Lanterns mounted on either side of the iron bars emitted a soft but constant radiance, humming with celestial power.

  The air was thick with a divine presence as they reached the entrance. The building’s exterior had already stunned them with its scale, but stepping closer to the main archway made it clear this was no ordinary containment site. Adam could feel the vibration of divine inscriptions etched into the walls, humming softly, like the place itself was alive. He was just about to step inside when a voice called from behind.

  “Sir Eldric!”

  A soldier's voice echoed through the hallway, hurried and tense. Adam and the others turned just as the soldier came running down the corridor in full gear, his armor clinking with every step. He stopped beside the paladin and saluted quickly.

  “Apologies for the interruption, sir, but we’ve just received word—an urgent message from the base. Paladin Champion Roland Anthartes has arrived at the base.”

  Eldric’s brows furrowed at once.

  “Roland? Here?”

  He repeated, half to himself.

  “When?”

  “Just moments ago, sir. He’s summoned all paladins and stationed soldiers for immediate briefing.”

  There was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Eldric straightened, and the casual warmth in his demeanor disappeared, replaced by the stiff bearing of a commanding officer under summons.

  “This is serious… I must go at once.”

  He muttered for a second before looking directly at Drake.

  “And so do you… You are a Paladin now. If one of your fellow Champions has appeared, you should be there as well.”

  Eldric said, glancing at the rest of the group.

  “But I can’t leave them alone in here… Not without supervision; it will be better if they accompany us too.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  Drake abruptly said, lowering his voice just a bit like if he had just thought of something.

  “I understand our duties, but they’re not paladins, not yet. And if Adam completes his mission, he’ll have earned the right to join us. Let him work.”

  Eldric hesitated. His gaze flicked to Adam, who stood silently, unreadable. The seconds stretched, but urgency pulled stronger. Finally, the paladin nodded.

  “Very well. The prison extends deep below this floor. The giant prisoners are kept on the lower levels. Follow the main corridor and take the central stairwell.”

  That startled Adam. The building was already massive, yet it continued beneath their feet? Drake took a few steps toward the others, his expression calm but serious.

  “I’ll see what’s going on; don’t worry about me. Just learn what you can.”

  He said, voice low and glancing at each of them in turn, then followed Eldric out of sight. With their departure, Adam, Angela, Katya, and Vaelric were left standing at the threshold. The absence of the paladin watching what they were doing didn’t make the place any less oppressive, but at least now they had the freedom to investigate without any worry.

  The moment they stepped inside, the sensation changed. The corridor was vast, its ceilings high enough to echo even the faintest footsteps. The walls glowed with faint inscriptions, all of them traced in fine lines of divine energy that formed shifting patterns across their surface. Holy lanterns hung from every intersection, shedding steady light and emitting a warmth that wasn’t physical—something deeper, something spiritual. It burned Adam’s skin, or at least that was the sensation on his body, and he could tell it wasn’t just him. Vaelric’s posture was stiffer than before. The illusion of his appearance held, but the tension in his shoulders was evident. Katya stayed unusually quiet, keeping her gaze downward, while Angela’s expression remained tight and unreadable.

  They moved through the corridor, passing cell after cell. All of them were empty, though none of them looked abandoned. The floors were spotless. The steel bars gleamed as though freshly forged. The divine runes that adorned each doorframe pulsed gently, maintaining a perfect equilibrium. It wasn’t a prison meant to punish—it was a containment unit designed to suppress the unholy. Every cell, no matter how unoccupied, radiated spiritual weight.

  Then, Adam froze. His head turned slightly to the left. Angela stopped walking.

  “What is it?”

  She asked, but the boy didn’t answer. His hand had risen instinctively, his body shifting without thought. There was a sound—whispers. Barely audible, yet distinct. Not divine in nature. They came from a side hall that branched away from the central stairwell. Katya and Vaelric noticed Adam veering off course and exchanged glances before following silently.

  The whispers grew clearer the closer he got. It wasn’t language, not really—just breath, rhythm, the kind of sound that only existed when someone was alone and afraid. It led him to a cell unlike the others. Larger. Far larger. The bars were wider apart, the doorway three times the size of the others. Divine energy still clung to it, but it was subtler here, more focused.

  Adam approached and peered through the shimmering barrier. Inside the massive cell, curled against the far wall, was a child… But not a human child.

  He was immense—larger even than all of them stacked together. His skin was pale blue, like the surface of glacial stone. He had long limbs, an oversized head with thick brows and broad cheeks, and his fingers were curled against his chest, trembling slightly. His clothes were rough-spun and torn in several places, and his knees were drawn to his chest as he huddled silently, whispering to himself.

  “A giant...”

  Katya breathed behind Adam. Angela’s voice came next, softer.

  “But... he’s just a child.”

  Adam didn’t move. His cursed eyes flickered, scanning the being. The divine wards in the cell were active, but not aggressive. Whoever placed him here hadn’t meant to torture or interrogate him. This was pure containment.

  But why was a giant child locked away in a place like this? And why was he alone? Adam’s thoughts raced, and for the first time since entering this sanctified dungeon, something unexpected tugged at his chest—something very close to sorrow. The group approached the large cell slowly, their steps echoing against the sacred tiles. Weirdly, Katya was the first to try talking, leaning in slightly toward the shimmering divine barrier and raising her voice.

  “Hey… are you alright in there?”

  She called gently, her tone carefully balanced between curiosity and concern. Angela followed suit, stepping beside her and adding.

  “We’re not here to hurt you. Can you hear us?”

  Even Adam made an attempt, standing in front of the bars and calling to the child with a steady, low voice, hoping not to startle him. But none of them received a response. The boy didn’t even raise his head. He remained curled in on himself, whispering to no one, his massive hands gripping something small and indiscernible.

  Vaelric stood a bit farther back, his face unreadable, but it was clear he was holding himself apart from the exchange—not because he didn’t care, but because he knew the divine pressure inside the cell would be overwhelming if he approached. The blessings on the cell were powerful, and even from where he stood, his expression showed clear unease.

  Adam exhaled and stepped closer. If the boy wouldn’t answer through the barrier, then he would have to do something more direct. The divine energy lining the bars prickled at his skin like cold static, but he didn’t hesitate. He activated [Spectral Mist Step], allowing his body to become a translucent veil of cursed essence, slipping silently through the bars and reforming inside the cell.

  The air was thicker in here. The divine presence was even denser—like breathing in fog made of heat and reverence. It didn’t burn him, but it clung to him like a blanket soaked in boiling water. Still, he pressed forward and approached the boy slowly.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He said, his boots crunching lightly against the polished floor.

  “You’ve been alone here for a long time, haven’t you?”

  No response. The boy just kept whispering, arms tight around whatever it was he held. Adam crouched, inching closer, until the item came into view. It was a cloth—tattered and stained, old enough that the original color had faded—but unmistakably marked with the radiant sigil of Arianka. Even now, it radiated a low, soothing warmth of divine energy, though it was a different sort than the oppressive purity that filled the temple and corridors. It felt... softer and not aggressive.

  Adam narrowed his eyes. He extended one hand, carefully conjuring a long, spectral limb—thin and ethereal, shaped like an elongated shadowed arm—and reached slowly toward the fabric.

  “That cloth, it could be harming you. You might not feel it, but divine energy has a way of—”

  But before he could finish, the boy flinched violently. His eyes widened, and for the first time, his voice was clear.

  “No!”

  The shout was deafening in the confined space, powerful enough to ripple through the divine field. With a sudden jerk, the child giant yanked the cloth away, tearing it from the spectral limb with such force that the entire conjured extension dissolved on contact. Adam flinched, gritting his teeth as the backlash of energy stung his body.

  The child scurried backward across the cell, dragging the mantle with him, holding it against his chest protectively. He was still too large to stand upright, the ceiling pressing low above him, so he remained crouched and hunched, his huge arms wrapped around the tattered relic like it was his entire world. Adam took a deep breath, trying to remain composed.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying? That cloth could be hurting you. If it’s tied to Arianka’s blessing, it might be corrupting you without you even realizing it.”

  He said, his voice firmer now. But the boy shook his head with sudden desperation, tears finally welling in his enormous eyes.

  “It’s not hurting me!”

  He said, voice quivering.

  “It’s proof. Proof that she still cares. That Arianka still watches over us!”

  Adam’s brow furrowed.

  “What are you talking about? She’s the goddess of humanity. Her blessing flows only to them, and it’s harmful to your people.”

  “You’re wrong!”

  The boy cried, voice cracking.

  “I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes!”

  He clutched the cloth tighter.

  “When they came—when the paladins came and attacked the city—I was hiding. I was crying. My parents were hurt, dying. I didn’t know what to do. So I prayed. I begged. I said her name the way the humans do. I asked her to save them.”

  His voice dropped, softer now.

  “And then this cloth came to me. It flew to me from the sky, glowing. I held it. I held it and prayed harder, and then—then they got better. Right in front of me. The wounds disappeared. They woke up.”

  He sniffled, his voice shaking with emotion.

  “It was warm. That light—it was warm, not like this one. Not like the one in this place. This one feels heavy and cruel. But back then… back then, it felt like kindness. Like love.”

  Adam didn’t speak… He couldn’t. He simply stood there, processing every word.

  The child’s eyes lifted to meet his for the first time.

  “You’re wrong, She does protect us. Even if no one else believes it… she does.”