At first, I thought this truly was a prayer hall.
Then the stench of clotted blood brushed against my nose.
I realized I had been wrong.
Dark crimson gradually consumed the scenery before us, as though we had stepped into some ancient hell drenched in blood.
This wasn't a prayer hall.
It was an altar.
And the executioner was already waiting for us.
"Prepare yourselves. We're here."
Jackson announced it, though he hardly needed to.
We had already realized as much.
Morgus, the clergyman Jackson had told us about, was right in front of us.
He knelt with both hands clasped together before a statue far larger than all the others, a colossal figure whose head had been severed.
Above the statue hung seven enormous golden bells, glowing faintly as they descended in a single row, forming a magnificent arc overhead.
"Is that really… a clergyman?"
One of Gustav's team members muttered as he took a nervous step backward.
I couldn't blame him.
