"Why is Charora only outside… why does he never step inside?" My words sliced through the silence, each question sharper than the last. "He needs blood to survive, doesn't he? Then why hasn't he killed anyone here? Why does he hover at the borders, like a shadow chained?"
I took a step closer, my eyes narrowing on her face. "The last time he killed was when villagers tried to burn little Mia along with her mother. That was the only time he touched life inside the village. Why? Why only then?"
The priestess shifted, her lips tightening, but I pressed on, not allowing her breath.
"Tell me, priestess… why, if Charora kidnaps children, does he return them unharmed? Why is he suddenly sparing everyone? Why is he not eating anyone now?"
The crowd behind me rustled uneasily, their murmurs low, but I didn't turn back. My gaze stayed fixed on her, because the more I spoke, the clearer the cracks in her mask became.
"You are putting baseless accusations on me, official. I owe you no answer," the Priestess said with clenched teeth.
"Well, you do not owe me any answers," I replied, keeping my eyes locked on her, "but you sure need to answer your own people. And if you can't, then say so... there's someone who can give us all the answers we need." I smirked at her.
The moment those words left my mouth, I could feel the shift around us. The crowd stirred, their eyes darting between me and the Priestess. Whispers rose like the rustling of dry leaves, suspicion feeding on itself.
She stood still, her jaw tight, but her silence was louder than any denial. The people noticed it too. Doubt crept into their faces, and for the first time, she looked cornered.
I didn't move. I let the silence weigh heavy, let it crush her. Sometimes silence is sharper than the sharpest blade.
Suddenly, the air flowed rapidly, as if the cave itself had begun to breathe. The ground trembled beneath our feet, rumbling like an earthquake tearing through stone. Gasps broke out among the villagers, their fear spilling into frantic glances and muffled cries.
I steadied myself, my eyes darting toward the waterfall at the mouth of the cave. To everyone's disbelief, the roaring sheet of water began to part—splitting down the middle, revealing a darkness that had never been seen before.
The Priestess's eyes went wide, the confidence she wore like armor shattering in an instant. She jerked back, trying to free herself, but I clutched her hand tightly, refusing to let go.
"Leave me!!!" she shouted, her voice cracking, her composure abandoned. Gone was the calm, untouchable mask she had held until now. In that moment, she was no Priestess—just a woman terrified of what was about to emerge from behind that wall of water.
Finally, the enchanted waterfall that had kept all the villagers entrapped in this cave for a month opened its gates. For a moment, no one dared to breathe, no one dared to move. Silence weighed heavy, as if the cave itself was stunned by the miracle.
And then it came—first a single voice breaking, then another—until the cave echoed with a chorus of happy cheers. Cries of relief, of freedom, of hope. Men fell to their knees, women clutched their children, elders raised their hands to the sky as tears ran down their faces.
People cried happy tears, their voices rising in a symphony of release. Chains of fear that bound them for so long were shattered in an instant. The air itself seemed lighter, as though the cave exhaled with them.
I held my ground, still gripping the Priestess's trembling hand, my eyes fixed on her face. While the people celebrated, her fear only deepened.
"Go away... your freedom is waiting for you. You are free now!" I shouted toward the villagers, my voice stern, loud, and clear, leaving no room for doubt.
For a heartbeat, they only stared at me, unsure if they could believe this sudden blessing. Then, slowly, they began to move, steps hesitant at first, then hurried, as hope finally pushed them forward. The first families approached the opening, tears of gratitude streaming down their faces.
But just as their feet touched the path of freedom, a shrill sound tore through the air. It wasn't a cry of joy—it was the Priestess.
"No one can go away! You can't ruin my plan... my hard work of centuries... you can't!" Her voice cracked into madness as she ripped her hand free from my grip.
Before I could stop her, she raised her trembling hand and drew a sign in the air.
The roar of the waterfall thundered back into place, slamming shut like a prison door. The opening vanished. Freedom was gone.
A collective gasp surged through the villagers. Their joy died in an instant, replaced by shock that rooted them to the ground. They didn't even weep at the loss of their escape—no, what shattered them more was the face of betrayal before their eyes.
Their Priestess. Their protector. Their guide.
She wasn't who they thought she was.
"You... you guys ruined my plan," she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "I was so close to gain the invincibility... the power I craved for two centuries... Yet you came... Everything was going smoothly until you came... I knew the palace would send someone... but I never thought they would send someone as clever as you... I never thought you would even find us behind this waterfall... let alone... see through me!" She spat at me, her words like venom cutting through the air.
I looked at her, and for the first time, there was no smirk on my face. No amusement. My expression was hardened, unyielding, like carved stone.
Amir, Shahib, Lie Jun, Selena, Mie Lin... and Lucian—all of my teammates—drew their swords, their stances poised, offensive, ready to strike at the first sign of her attack. The tension in the cave thickened, each heartbeat louder than the last.
I stepped closer, letting the weight of my gaze settle on her, cold and unwavering. "You ruined so many lives," I said, my voice steady, sharp. "You deserve no respect. You are no Priestess... you are just Serenya—a common, evil, jealous woman. Why did you do this?"
The cave fell silent again, only the distant roar of the waterfall echoing faintly behind her. She laughed, a broken, bitter sound, but it didn't reach her eyes.