The blade whistled down, its arc perfect, merciless—aimed straight for the child's neck.
But it never touched her.
Steel met steel with a ringing clash, sparks scattering in the air. Between the katana's edge and Mia's throat stood nothing more than a plain, unremarkable sword—my sword. The priestess's eyes followed the trembling line of resistance, tracing the blade back to the hand that held it. Slowly, her gaze climbed higher until her sharp eyes met mine.
She didn't look surprised. She didn't even flinch. Her lips pressed together as she drew the katana back with controlled grace. "May I know the meaning of this, Official?" she asked, her tone cool, stern, unyielding.
I smiled. A simple, almost careless thing. "I think you don't need to know anything," I said evenly. My voice echoed in the cavern, slicing through the fumes and whispers. "But it is embarrassing… that so many people would need a little girl to save themselves."
The priestess's gaze hardened, her sharp eyes drilling into me, but she said nothing. She didn't need to.
Because the cave erupted instead.
Voices of disapproval rose like a tide, villagers shouting, muttering, hissing. Anger, fear, outrage—all tangled together, filling the air until it felt like the cave itself trembled with their noise.
And yet, through it all, I stood there, my sword still raised, Mia's fragile frame still behind me.
"What are you doing?! You're here to save us, aren't you? Do you want us to die?" The villagers' cries hit me from all sides, their voices shrill, tangled in desperation. Fear made them ugly—eyes wide, lips twisted, their words like claws digging into me.
At some unknown moment, my teammates moved. One by one they leapt onto the aisle, boots striking the stone, their faces tight with unease. The blue fumes curled around us all now, swallowing us in its haze.
Lucian was the first to speak, his voice low but edged with anger. "What are you doing?" His teeth were clenched, his hand already hovering near his weapon. "You'll put all of us in danger!"
I met his glare calmly, the weight of the crowd pressing against my back, the priestess's katana still gleaming in the corner of my vision.
Danger. As though it hadn't already filled this cave the moment they decided to cut a child's throat.
"I understand all of you," I said, my voice loud and clear, carrying over the restless whispers. My sword lowered slightly but stayed between Mia and the priestess. "But tell me—how does killing a little girl save you?"
The priestess's reply came smooth, cool, unwavering. "I told you already. This is a forbidden ritual. Through it, I shall call upon the power of the Moon Goddess. With her strength, we will fight the Charora."
"Yes, yes, you told us all that," I countered quickly, my words sharp enough to slice through her composure. "But tell me this—if you are to worship the Moon Goddess, shouldn't you do so under the full moon? Yet here we are, buried in a cave. And even if the place doesn't matter…" My eyes narrowed. "…tonight is the night of no moon."
The cavern stirred with unease. Whispers rippled through the villagers, doubt threading into their desperation.
The priestess only smiled. A calm, practiced smile. "I don't know what you wish to imply, Sir Official. But my family has long been blessed by the Moon Goddess. We can worship her at any time, in any place."
"Oh, that's right," I said, a mocking edge curling into my voice. "You can worship the Moon Goddess anytime, can't you? But tell me—why didn't you do so when you were first trapped here, along with the other villagers? Why now? Why only when this girl was convenient?"
The whispers grew louder. Eyes turned from me to her, flickering with suspicion, doubt, and something dangerously close to anger.
"I didn't want to hurt this girl before," the priestess said, her voice sharper now, the coolness fraying at the edges. "But now we are desperate. Our children are sick."
Her annoyance bled through every syllable.
I only smiled. I didn't need to answer her. Not yet.
Instead, I turned, letting my gaze fall on Mie Lin. "I trust you have a sharp memory, Mie Lin?" My tone was steady, but my words echoed like a challenge. "Because tell me—how else would I confirm this is the same pattern we saw carved on the ground… the day we first reached this village and found it empty?"
Her eyes widened, her lips parting. The crowd stiffened, their whispers rising again, nervous and unsure. I could feel the weight of their stares shift—from me to her, from faith to doubt.
The priestess's hand tightened on the katana.
Now my eyes locked onto the priestess, unblinking. My voice rang out sharp, deliberate, echoing against the cavern walls.
"You were the one who entrapped everyone here."
The murmurs swelled, but I didn't pause. I took a step closer, the fumes swirling around my boots. "Because no matter what else, a Charora is only a bloodthirsty monster. Yes, it can kill. Yes, it can tear a man in two with its claws." My hand tightened on my sword. "But there's one thing it cannot do—illusions."
I lifted my chin slightly, my eyes never leaving hers. "And here, in this cave other than us, in this entire village—there is only one person who can wield such magic. The only Marfian."
Gasps broke out among the villagers. Some flinched back as though the ground beneath them had shifted. Others turned wide, trembling eyes toward her, their faith cracking beneath suspicion.
The priestess didn't move. Her face was perfectly still, but her eyes—sharp, dark—glimmered with something dangerous.
"This is a very big accusation, official. Why would I ever hurt my own village? They are my people. My ancestors have always protected them, and I too swore to protect them."
Her voice was steady, firm, almost burning with conviction. "And moreover… my people will never believe your baseless accusations."
I let out a faint smile. "Oh, priestess… I never speak without proof. Then tell me—why is Charora here in the first place? Why did he beat you?"
Her eyes locked on mine, full of nothing but hatred. "The villagers told you, and I too shall repeat. My brother wanted to become the priest… but he was not qualified. He could never be. So he turned his frustration on me. When the villagers shunned him, he left. He wandered away and in his greed… sold his soul to the devil. That is how he became Charora."
"He did beat you out of jealousy… but then why spare you? Why not kill you?" My words were calm, yet heavy, echoing in the silence of the courtyard.
"I don't know," she hissed through clenched teeth. For the first time, someone had dared question the priestess, and it burned her pride more than her wounds.
"Maybe I know… maybe I don't," I let the uncertainty hang, watching her composure strain. "But let's not waste time. Next question. He returned after his banishment. He wept, begged, threw himself at your feet. The whole village warned you—don't take him back. He's dangerous. A curse in flesh. And yet…" I narrowed my eyes, "you allowed him to stay."
I took a step closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. "Why? Knowing full well he was a threat to your people, why did you welcome him back? Don't give me that excuse about kindness toward your brother. Don't forget—you were ready to spill a little girl's blood in the name of 'protecting' this very village."
Her mask was finally breaking.