Taylor and Caelus stopped at the edge of an open plaza. It was flat and spacious, perhaps once used as a gathering area whenever the church hosted a public event. Just beyond lay the cathedral. Shattered glass, broken spires, and cracked walls. It was clear this place hadn't seen usage since its destruction.
At least, until now.
The trio of cloak figures climbed the steps and approached the massive double doors, where a man in ragged clothes greeted them.
"If this isn't the most suspicious thing in the world, I don't know what is," Taylor whispered.
"Indeed. What are your thoughts?" Caelus asked.
"Wherever they're holing up those demons, it has to be a pretty big place. I doubt they're keeping them within the cathedral walls itself."
"Is that so?"
"It's the most likely case. Back then, whenever the pope visited the empire, it was customary for him or one of his officials to visit every church in the city. As a safety measure, a new foundational standard was put into place: underground tunnels. I imagine the priest of Chaos, whom our seniors exposed last year, frequented those tunnels quite often."
Caelus stood and readied himself.
"I'm going in."
"What? Absolutely not. We don't know what those guys are capable of, so walking in blind is out of the question. We should wait for Senior Shion."
"If those tunnels were meant as an escape route for the pope, then you'd best believe they made it as labyrinthine as possible. What's more, Senior Alicia just went in with them. Someone's gotta have her back."
It made sense to Taylor, yet he was still hesitant.
"...I don't like this plan, but as I mentioned, we don't know what those guys are capable of. So if Senior Alicia can't handle them..."
"Don't worry. I have more than enough combat experience to fend for myself. I'll keep Senior Alicia in check."
Taylor let out a defeated sigh.
"Fine. But unless Senior Alicia is clearly in danger, do not make the first move. If nobles truly are the ones hiding under those cloaks, then they must be apprehended. I'll keep waiting for Senior Shion."
"Understood. I'll leave some markers along the tunnels so you guys can find your way."
With that, Caelus sank into the shadows.
Taylor watched as a blot of pitch black rapidly made its way across the plaza's ruined stone. He raised an eyebrow, as that kind of magic wasn't something that humans were capable of. At least, not by any normal means.
Caelus emerged in a dim corner of the church, veiled in shadow. At the other end of the cathedral's massive hall, the cloaked figure, along with the man in ragged clothes, made their way down a spiral staircase.
"Hmm... What a lavish coat," he muttered. "Looks like Taylor was right."
Then, a voice echoed softly within his mind.
"Master Caelus."
My brow twitched.
"This voice... Lyra?"
"Yes, sir. It is me. The shadows have identified a clear path to the objective."
"Good. What's the situation down there?"
"Exactly as you predicted. The tunnels beneath the cathedral are expansive, though many lead to dead ends or scattered exits throughout the abandoned district. However, we've located what appears to be the primary holding area. A prison."
"...And the hostages?"
"It is as you predicted."
A bitter taste coated his tongue. Part of him had hoped this was all a misunderstanding — that perhaps the shadows would find something trivial, like an underground market of sorts. But of course, this world rarely offered anything so harmless. To hope is to invite disappointment.
"Is there any place we can use to hide?"
"Yes, sir. The ceiling in the prison chamber stretches quite high, with numerous wooden support beams. Perfect vantage points for ambush or observation."
"Good. Stay out of sight. Do not engage those in the holding area. I'll be right there."
"Understood. Awaiting further orders."
The link faded, leaving behind a faint sting in his head. He turned his gaze to the empty hall.
The moment had arrived.
After confirming that the coast was clear, he dashed out into the open. From what he saw, the spiral staircase should be just behind that obnoxiously large statue of the Goddess.
"Well then... Right under the Goddess's nose," he scoffed, staring into its dark depths. "Shadows, commence the operation."
From every corner of the church, curls of black mist seeped out like tendrils, converging upon the staircase in eerie unison.
"Ah, and one more thing..."—a faint hint of red gleamed in the depths of his eyes—"...If you encounter any nobles along the way, I want them alive. Everyone else... kill them."
From the moment the order was given, they melted deeper into the shadows, their forms flickering in and out of visibility like phantoms passing through candlelight.
No footsteps echoed.
No weapons clinked.
Even the very air seemed to hush itself in their presence.
One by one, they were swallowed by the gloom of the underground tunnels. What followed was a ritual executed with such precision that it was as though they'd rehearsed it a thousand times.
They moved like flowing water. Never hesitating. Never doubling back. Their cloaks fluttered only slightly as they dashed down narrow corridors, gliding past old brick walls and archways veiled in cobwebs.
Eyes sharp, movements sharper.
Where lesser spies would fumble or pause to whisper plans, these shadows communicated in unspoken rhythms.
A glance.
A breath.
The subtle shift of a hand.
That was all it took.
A pair of patrolling guards approached a side junction, speaking idly to one another. One of them blinked, and in that blink, the other was gone. His companion turned too late, only to fall in the same way.
The shadow didn't pause to admire their work. There were no affirming nods, no shared glances of pride. Only motion.
"Nicely done, everyone."
Above the circular prison chamber, Caelus landed on a wooden support beam. One by one, the others joined him in silent succession, spacing themselves along the rafters like watchful predators.
Below, the prison revealed its horror.
Rows of cells lined the chamber, many filled with emaciated figures. Demons of many tribes. Succubi, kitsune, devils, imps, harpies — and as the intel suggested... all female.
Some sat slumped against the walls, eyes dim, and all were shackled. Torches flickered dimly, casting distorted silhouettes across the walls.
"Used, sold, thrown into chains, condemned for nothing more than their blood," Caelus muttered, clenching his fists at his side. "Humans claim righteousness, don't they? Well, this doesn't look very righteous to me."
His eyes drifted across the room again. Guards lingered lazily along the walls. Mercenaries and thugs, the usuals at the bottom of the feeders. They leered at the prisoners, exchanging crude remarks that echoed with their laughter.
But then, something else caught his attention.
Lyra emerged silently to Caelus's left, her blade already drawn and eyes sharp with focus.
"Master Caelus..." she whispered. "White-cladded armor."
"Yeah. Paladins."
His fists curled, knuckles pale from the pressure. No longer could he hide the fire burning inside him. The others noticed, and of course they did, but no one said a word. Demons feel emotion just as much as humans do, so seeing this... they felt it too.
Rage.
"What is this?" Caelus growled. "Holy knights, servants of the divine, and upholders of justice. At least, that's how they portrayed themselves... so why the fuck are they here?"
Lyra quickly placed a delicate hand on his shoulder without a word. Caelus turned, and upon seeing her anxious face, he let out a deep breath.
"Sorry, Lyra," he said.
"There's no need to apologize, Master Caelus. What are your orders?"
"Now... We wait. I want confirmation. Every last bastard involved in this shithole needs to be accounted for. Not a single one of them will escape retribution."
The front gates to the prison chamber groaned open. A group entered — led by a man dressed in an expensive merchant's garb, smug and brimming with pride. Behind him trailed prospective buyers. Noblemen. Well-dressed. Smirking. Disgusting.
Among them... a hooded woman. Caelus knew immediately that she was Alicia.
"As you can see, we have the finest selection," the merchant announced, gesturing dramatically at the cells. "Whatever desire you seek to fulfill, you'll find it here… for the right price, of course."
The noblemen laughed, exchanging snide comments as they walked down the aisle of suffering, passing the cells like they were shopping for furniture instead of flesh. My stomach churned.
"And this one here is our prized possession," the merchant continued, stopping before one of the central cells. "A Succubus princess."
"Oho!" one noble exclaimed.
"What a beauty. I imagine she'd perform excellently in the bedroom."
Another chuckled, licking his lips.
"She's got that dangerous charm. Just my type."
The merchant rubbed his hands together greedily.
"Let's start with this one, then! Shall we begin the bidding?"
"That's enough!"
The voice rang sharp and clear across the chamber, slicing through the air like a blade. All eyes turned.
The hooded woman stepped forward. And with one swift motion, she threw off her cloak, revealing the mage's tunic of Rhodeia — pristine, regal, unmistakable.
"Sheesh, guys~" she hummed. "I was gonna wait for you to spill even more, but this... This is some fucked up shit you've got going on."
Gasps echoed through the hall. The guards reached for their weapons in panic, but Alicia didn't even react. She kept her eyes fixed on the nobles with a confident grin.
"Ah, my bad. I totally forgot to introduce myself. The name's Alicia Valentine, and tonight... You lot have a lot to answer for."