Vanitas felt a bad premonition.
Inside the cathedral, several dead clergy littered the floors with their bodies torn apart not by blades but by dark magic.
When he lowered his gaze, he saw a priest's body. The soul seemed to have already departed, leaving behind an empty vessel. Yet even in death, the remnants of dark mana remained around the corpse, telling a story that needed no words.
"...."
Whatever had transpired here, Vanitas could only make guesses. It clearly wasn't the result of internal conflict among the clergy, especially when most of them were likely cultists to begin with.
Someone else had been here.
Soliette opened her mouth. "Vanitas, the Saintess—"
"Is alive," Vanitas said, cutting her off. "There's nothing to worry about."
