Aron let out a pained grunt as he felt a cold sweat run down his face. His lungs were filled with a suffocating foul odor with the scent of rotting flesh that had decayed.

  A dreadful realization struck in his head as he looked onto the sky. ”Has our time come already?” he murmured to himself. “To the Lord, witness the trial as judgment is cast out to your children. The Almighty, may your blessings be eternal.”

  As he finished his prayer, he dropped his axe to the side and made a frantic dash to the center of the town. His strange behavior caught the eyes of bystanders, gossip began to stir among the crowd and some followed him as he made his way into the church on the right side of the center road.

  As he entered the church, The heavy oak doors creaked shut behind him, muffling the gossip of outsiders. Inside, the church was bathed in a dim, reverent light that filtered in through the high stained-glass windows.

  The air was cool and smelled faintly of polished, old wood. Dust motes danced in the beams of golden sunlight that slanted across the rows of empty pews, where each had a worn hymnal tucked into a compartment beneath the faded red cushion. A scarlet runner stretched down the center aisle, leading his eyes towards the altar, a grand affair made of dark wood and adorned with intricate carvings with an altarpiece hung on the wall.

  Behind it stands a lone figure looking through the glass window with a thousand-yard stare.

  Aron treads on the worn, red carpet with each step carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. He lifted his gaze to see the sculpture of “The Lord” and his twelve disciples, wrapped in a white cloth with embracing arms wide open and a radiating smile on his face.

  As Aron felt some clarity from the subtle, warm smile, he, like many others before him, never knew who they were, because the shroud darkened their face to the point of obscurity. Despite their identity being lost to time, their divinity is still shed down upon the sinner that dares to appear in their presence.

  “Father, judgment is upon us,” Aron muttered with a heavy tone, kneeling down in front of the altar. The Father sighed as he briefly shut his worn-off, tired eyes, averting his gaze from the scenery behind stained-glass windows.

  Father asked softly as he turned to face the kneeling Aron. “Has the Hounds arrived?” He slowly walked down and signaled Aron to stand, but before he could answer the question, a voice came bursting through the door:

  “They are already wagging their tails and stuffing their noses to the smell of guilt, Father.” Reiya walked in calmly with a faint smirk on her face as if she was finding amusement in this. The Father simply stood idly, fiddling the cross on the necklace around his neck. “Father, the wolf has already bitten its own flesh to live. Why should it lay down to die if it has gotten so far?” Reiya blurted with a mocking tone.

  “Now is not the time, Reiya. We-” Aron’s words were cut off by Father raising his hand slowly, he kept a tiring stare toward Reiya. Conflicted emotions are written all over his face as he is trying to make sense of the current predicament. After a small moment of silence, he was able to come up with a prayer,

  “The sin that we must face, leave what is behind for the witnesses to bear. Our children, I plead innocence for the lost souls who were forced to trail upon the sea of blood.” Reiya scoffed at his prayers before answering him:

  “Father, the blood hasn't run dry.” She claimed, turning toward the creaking doors stretching out to the side to reveal an army clad in armor, the ethereal glow of the sun being reflected on the metallic scales. their faces obscured by metal helms. The helm itself was a marvel of craftsmanship, wrought with polished steel. As they tried to get a good look at their eyes, it was pointless nonetheless, for the visor on the helmet obscured any sense of identity that each and any individual within the army had from one another.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  They marched on with thunderous steps echoing through the desolate church. The group exuded a suffocating aura like that of blood-hungry beasts. In the lead was a warrior larger than the rest, his armor was not much different than the men behind him apart from his Pauldrons designed after wolves ready to bite and the many scars painted across the chest plate a testament to the countless battles he had endured.

  “What an unexpected arrival, Lieutenant General Commodore of The Ravager Claws.” Reiya greets them sarcastically “I’m afraid you got the wrong bloke, Captain. There ain’t no hare to sharpen your claws.” The General ignored her sarcasm, walking up to Father who was consumed by conflicting thoughts.

  “Heims, let no blood be spilled this day. We only want the Beast’s head,” he asserted, Father Heims grips tightly on the cross as he looks up at the general with a heavy burden on his face.

  Father Heims warned with a desperate look as his body began to give in to the dreaded feeling, “What you wish to intervene is greater than what you could’ve ever imagined, Duke. The Forsaken Beast of Famine hunger for our demise still, its rage will become an everlasting flame that would burn this entire forest down.” Aron stepped in between with a clear voice,

  “Let us discuss this matter in a neighborly manner to reach a mutual conclusion for both sides, aye?” Despite his friendly tone, Aron wore on his face a fierce look staring directly into the General Duke's helm. The air was becoming more and more suffocating until a clapping sound was heard followed by a slightly annoyed tone.

  “Did blood clog up your ears? I’m here you know, the least you could do is give me a side glance. A girl has her needs too, gosh, you have no idea how to treat a lady properly,” she mumbled with arms crossed and a slight pout on her face. Her childish behavior seemed to have struck a nerve as General Duke coldly responded,

  “Begone, Reiya The Heartless. You care naught for the lives that dwell here, only the brilliance of Lady Orleria can bring salvation to this grave sin.” His words provoked her as she laid down her arms and began to chuckle by herself, her small giggles soon turned into maniacal laughter. She took a side glance over his army as she heard whispers among the crowd, some cursed her name, and some scorned at her laughter. She took a small breather before taking off her glasses and stared directly at the general.

  “Did you really think I would allow your little doggy to sniff out my boots? I have been holding it in for long enough for you to show your color and you did.” She took out a ball containing a spell inside it.

  “C’mere, doggy, fetch your ball,” she taunted The General as he drew closer to her, as he tried to grab it. She dropped it down onto the ground and stepped on it, grinding her boot until it broke. The released spell turned into an eye that showed the General a scene of slaughter.

  The barren sand was stained with crimson, and blood splattered among the ruins with bits of flesh pinned to the walls. Soldiers lay dead by the many, piling on one against the other as the body counts rose by the seconds. Everyone in the room was struck with a realization as Aron turned to Reiya with an awful churn in his stomach. But, before he could say anything, Reiya shut down his attempt with a finger in front of her lip, demanding everyone to turn toward the show.

  A group of knights gathered around to form a protective circle as they frantically tried to run for their lives, their formation seemed to have succeeded even if it was futile, holding the figure that was butchering them left and right for a slight second. The figure effortlessly pierced through their defenses with its limb before the soldiers in front of it were shredded to pieces. their bodies shook violently as if their skin and flesh were being pulled away from the bones.

  The General watched the massacre with a darkened face, looking back at the sadistic witch wolfishly grinning in front of him. Gripping tightly on his weapon ready for battle, the act in front of him could be seen as a crime that can only be redeemed by death. But something was preventing him from drawing his sword,

  Tactfully, she pulled out a parchment, her contract, and read aloud, “Acies Fidei asked a favor of the first apostle, Reiya The Heartless. She will be tasked to handle the uprising number of the creatures in Astrum Desolation. Under one condition, Her work shall not be intervened or viewed by the forces of Acies Fidei.” She put it back into her pocket, kept her brow and smirk raised, as she rhetorically inquired out of mockery, “Did you really think I was going to let you dance around your words just because the Alae found an excuse to interrogate my work?”

  It was what General Duke had feared would become true, the rage of his people was growing by the second. Words of hatred and vices can be heard amidst the crowd for the psychopath standing in front of them. But the moment she glared over with her bright purple eyes staring directly into their souls and savoring their fears, the troopers bit their lips and averted their gaze with dread.

  “I will tell you who is the heartless one here, every one of the soldiers that ‘I’ has slaughtered were trainees under your guidance,” she declared among the group of soldiers who had their lips sealed by her reveal. “They weren’t family nor people of your tribe, so you threw their lives away to ensure your people's safety and to carry out the Alae’s order. Even I can't bring myself to do such a monstrous thing.” She turns back toward General Duke to give her warning: “I will not repeat myself, General. You will find no meal to quell your hunger in this village. You can now leave.”

  Taking her warning to the heart, he signaled his team to retreat. The soldiers reluctantly swallow their defeat as they turn their heels to return to where they came from. Aron walked up to her before kneeling in gratitude. “Thank you for giving us sinners another chance to repent, from the bottom of my heart. I promise to you that the children of Alnerwick will atone for the crime and set free the weighted soul.”

  “It's not over yet, Aron. The trial has only begun.” Father Heims reminded him in a concerned tone. Reiya kept her gaze on the distant waves of soldiers fading into the lines of trees as she opened her mouth,

  “Indeed, let us commend this trial and sought to the end of this nightmare.”