Mr. Richard? But why is he in this state? Didn't I just see him last week." At that point, Lumian was completely baffled by the scene before him.
He brought the flashlight closer to the crucified Richard face. "It is indeed Mr. Richard!" He stepped back a little, as he forced himself to stay calm.
Vincent moved forward and crouched just beside the crucifix. He gently raised one of Mr. Richard's eyelid wider. "Judging by how dilated his pupils are... I think he must have died in an extreme state of terror."
Zayn took the phone from Lumian and examined the body himself. His gaze moved from the lifeless eyes, down to the chest. Inspecting the chest, he noticed that it was brutally sliced open, revealing there was no heart!
Dub! Dub! Dub!
At that moment, Lumian suddenly felt a great wave of fear wash over him. He nervously scanned the environment, looking for anything that could be of danger to him. He finally calmed down a bit when Zayn spoke. "This seems to be a serious murder case, whoever did this is no ordinary murderer, they're a psychopath."
He sighed and turned to the right, only to see Whiteley shivering and bitting his thumb nervously.
"Whiteley," Zayn said with a smile. "What are you doing? Don't tell me you're scared—you're thirty years old for crying out loud."
The statement immediately broke the tension slightly, earning a nervous chuckle from both Lumian and Vincent.
Whiteley sighed, adjusted his glasses, and forced a small laugh. "Hah! Captain, who told you I was scared? Heh heh, I'm just messing with you all."
Zayn simply nodded and replied. "Alright, if that's the case, carry on with your job."
Whiteley chuckled again, clearly still uneasy. Taking a deep breath, he began to chant in a low and soothing voice:
"I invoke the night where secrets breathe,
When the candle is black and lanterns gleam,
Guide my steps through the unseen dream."
...
His pupils turned gray then colourless, as though he had become a spirit himself.
Blue spiritual lines began to materialize—first stretching to the sky, then to Mr. Richard body, then the cathedral walls, and finally... to a dark corner beside the crucifix.
When Lumian cast his gaze over, he realized that it was a half-beating heart. Mr. Richard missing heart.
...
If Lumian hadn't seen worse things in his time as a monster hunter, he would've probably vomited on the spot. He pinched his arm, forcing himself to stay calm.
After steadying his breath, he began analyzing the situation. His thoughts shifted to the 'spell' Whiteley had used. From what Lumian knew, his "order" was that of a Mystery Pryer—an order mostly focused on uncovering mysteries and communicating with unseen entities.
It wasn't an order that suited him, and he had long abandoned the idea of choosing it for himself.
He then turned his gaze toward Vincent, who was carefully "examining" the heart. "First the line went to the sky... then to Mr. Richard body... then to the cathedral... and now to his heart."
"Hm. What could that mean?" He continued as he rubbed his chin. Then like a spark of realization, he widened his eyes slightly.
"His heart was missing, and he was crucified... could this be the ritual mentioned in one of St. Mary texts?"
It wasn't much, but it was the most logical explanation he could come up with.
He glanced toward Zayn, who wore a serious expression. "Does the captain already know?"
Zayn rubbed his philtrum thoughtfully before speaking. "Do you all remember this same pattern in the text of St. Mary?"
Lumian replied carefully, hiding his assumptions. "No, Captain. Although I've read some of the texts... I've never come across one that mentions a ritual."
"Well, Captain," Vincent said. "I can't recall anything like that in the main text — The Book of Testament — but in one of St. Mary's lesser writing, the Book of Wisdom, I remember something similar to this."
He slowed his tempo, as he tried to piece together the fragments of what he'd read. When he finally remembered, he continued, his voice now steady. "In ancient times — in the Age of Beginnings to be specific — when the Pale Moon Goddess and the Skywalker awoke from the creator's fragments , the God of Beginnings divided himself into two: The Mystic King and the Pimordial Lord of Chaos. It was basically done to bring balance to the word..."
Noticing Vincent 'hesitation,' Zayn added, picking up from where he had stop. "But when the Lord of Chaos awakened, he began spreading corruption — twisting the heart of men, and feeding their deepest desires. When the God of Beginnings saw what had become of his other half, he decided to seal 'him' away, hence slowing the rate at which corruption was spread.
His gaze moved towards the crucifix. "So if this pattern is truly the ritual mentioned... that means they are trying to awaken him."
Awaken the Lord of Chaos?!
Both Lumian and Vincent said Inwardly, as they realized the gravity of the situation.
Lumian turned his gaze back to the crucified Mr. Richard. "But what connection could Mr. Richard have to all this?" Lumian quietly wonderd.
He let out a long sigh, as he rubbed his forehead. "How I'm I even going to tell Captain about this.."
...
A few days later, in Betyl — specifically at the Harper Cemetery — under the grey sky, a crowd stood before a tombstone. On it was a picture of Mr. Richard, wearing a black suit and smiling brightly.
A woman with bright yellow hair stood silently before the grave. Beside her were Lumain and several members of the Skywalker church, all wearing somber expression.
The pallbearers carried the coffin forward and lowered it into the grave. Prayers were murmured, and soon the soil began to fall, covering the coffin bit by bit. When it was done, most of the crowd quietly departed, leaving behind Lumian, the yellow-haired woman, and Captain Hargreaves.
After a moment, the rain began to fall. Under the grey drizzle, tears streamed down the woman's face, slow at first, and then faster, until she collapsed to her knees, resting her head against the tombstone. Her sobs echoed softly in the cemetery silent air.
Hargreaves and Lumian watched silently, both letting out a heavy sigh.
After some gentle persuasion from the other family members, the woman finally left. It was later revealed that she was Richard's wife.
Lumian looked down at the grave, laying a few white flowers over the mould of the earth. He bowed slightly and said,
"May the Skywalker bless you, even in your end."
He lifted his eyes to the tombstone again. The words engraved on it read:
Rest in Peace:
The best husband,
The best father,
The best colleague.
He sighed once more, turned to Hargreaves, and spoke in a low and gloomy tone. "Captain... I think I've finally made my decision on an order. I'll pick '——' "
...
Later that evening, in the Richard residence, silence filled the home. The yellow-haired woman sat on the couch, staring blankly at her children. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen.
Suddenly she covered her face and began to cry again. "What will I even tell them when they grow up..."
Several family relatives surrounded her, offering words of comfort.
Meanwhile, another young woman quietly slipped past the commotion and entered a nearby room.
The room was dark, and seated on the bed was the hooded figure. The woman closed the door behind her. As she did, her shape immediately began to change — her yellow hair fading into pure white.
She walked forward, but stepped on something soft. Looking down, she let out a sigh. "Why are you always leaving your dolls around? How many times have I told you, not to scatter them everywhere."
From the bed, a soft voice replied. "Elizabeth... you could call them marionettes, string puppets, or even fantoccini. But please — don't call them 'dolls.' "
The hooded figure slowly removed her hood, revealing a familiar figure with long blue hair and calm brown eyes. It was Dorothy.
She flashed a smile as she said. "And besides... I recently wasted two, just for the sake of the ritual."