Late November 1459.
Although it was already November, the late autumn expansion area was not cold; instead, it was as cool as early autumn.
The sea breeze carried moisture, blowing against the stone walls.
Emerald ivy, covered in silvery morning dew, and the sun of Cape City still streamed through the stained glass as always.
In front of the altar, it cast her colorful light.
But today, the priest could not stand at the altar to preach and receive the offerings of the faithful.
Instead, he huddled behind the Holy Image, holding the cross to his chest, repeatedly murmuring prayers.
Beyond a long path covered by a red carpet lay the oaken doors of the church.
At this moment, the doors made sharp cracking and impact noises, becoming increasingly intense and more violent.
With a creak, the cold gleam of an axe blade shot through the door, causing countless nuns and monks to scream.
Moments later, as wood chips scattered, the church doors burst open.
