Night fell upon the city; of course, the only way of knowing that is through the city's PA system.
The church and the Middle Layer guards worked tirelessly after the attacks done today by the cult. They combed the streets, cleaning up any corpses that remained from either victim or cultist.
The victims were kept to a minimum. Many would think it was due to the efforts of the church, but that sentiment doesn't feel right to me.
That man at the cafe, he wasn't there to cause a massive scene; he just wanted information. With Celia held hostage, I was unable to do anything.
Hostage…
Galahad, he was using Celia to lure out Ritair.
That man at the cafe, he only wanted to force me into helping him locate Kelly.
"Ha…"
"Mister?"
I brought my palm to my face as I let out a chuckle. That attack wasn't meant to cause harm to the city; it was an internal scuffle.
"Mister…?"
Next to me, in an empty corner of the gathering hall of the main chapel in the Middle Core, was Sara. Understandably, she looked at me with a worried expression. Who wouldn't after seeing somebody laugh to themselves in the middle of a sermon?
"Sorry," I rubbed my hand through Sara's hair. She smiled as she turned back towards the woman at the podium. It was times like these that I preferred Sara's company. She might ask questions, but she doesn't dig too deep. Maybe it was because she doesn't understand, or maybe she can just tell when my mind drifts.
A calm and confident voice rang through the gathering hall. Each word spoken had a meaning. Even someone like me would consider coming back solely to listen to her speak—Lilas, that is.
She called for an emergency sermon as the unease among the people was rising to dangerous levels. Truthfully, it was the city's idea, as they were to blame for a lack of warning through the PA, but who could have predicted that?
Lilas betrayed the expectations that Muller had given me. There was not a hint of a monster that could ruin one's will to live up there. She shone brightly at the podium; the people who gathered to listen to her kept their heads high, not turning away for a second.
"But you should never judge a book by its cover."
"Hmm…?"
Sara turned back to look at me. Keeping my eyes on Lilas, I spoke softly to her. "It means never to judge a person by their outward appearance."
While Lilas spoke, she gave out soft taps that were coded. Only those within the church's shadow groups, or myself by association with Muller, could understand. Some scouts returned messages, conveying that their mission to dispose of any cultist who was unable to flee the Middle Layer had concluded.
Sara and I waited another hour for the sermon to end. This was not something I would usually attend; I don't even attend Muller's sermons. But this was the only place in this chapel where time wouldn't drag.
Seeking a place to keep Celia until we figured out how to stop the seventh seat from using her as bait and to undo the brainwashing by the second seat, the chapel was the only place. Kelly had already been taken back by Ritair; I was not gonna let a second victim return to him under my watch.
"Oooh…." Once the last follower had left the gathering hall, Lilas let out a long breath from behind the podium.
Her single eye looked around the room until Sara was in its sight. With the snap of her fingers, a blue light flickered around her. The light danced from object to object, pulling anything magnetic to her as she rose into the air.
Defying all known laws of nature, she flew towards us, snapping her fingers when she got only a couple of feet away from us and lunged at Sara.
I pulled Sara aside, watching Lilas as she slammed headfirst into the wall. She slid down, looking unsightly for a woman bearing the title of 'Mother' here within the church.
"Oww…" she muttered.
"Fix your skirt," I warned her.
She looked back, glaring at me without bothering to move. It seemed she was more focused on her anger towards me than on exposing herself.
When she began her sermon, she had switched into a fresh set of clothes. Now, it was torn, exposing a metal chainmail underneath.
I wondered how she was able to rise into the air like that, and now I know. She was using armor in tandem with her artifact. As a cost of doing that, her clothes took damage from the fragments of metal she picked up.
I'd give her points for creativity, but then I'd take away the same amount of points looking at her missing eye. It's that kind of recklessness with strange powers that can cause people to lose parts of themselves they can never get back.
Not that I was any better with my wounded eye.
"Sir…" Lilas stood up, fixing her light blue hair and dusting off her clothing. She unflipped the back of her skirt and placed a hand on her hip while holding her right hand out. Her fingers were positioned so that she could snap them. "Why are you getting in my way?"
"Your way of what? Crushing this adorable girl by slamming into her with that armor under your vestments?"
"…I suppose you might have a point."
Lilas removed her vestments and then her chain mail, exposing a blight-blue undershirt. Then, without much of a warning, she lunged at Sara once more.
Again, I pulled Sara aside and watched as Lilas slammed into the wall. It was then that I realized she was wearing matching colored undergarments.
"A lady shouldn't be exposing herself, you know," I said. "It's not very cute."
Lilas reached out her hand and snapped her fingers. Blue light flickered toward me. I felt the Gearsaw on my back get forcefully ripped from its sheath and shot across the gathering hall with a trail of blue light following. It impaled itself into the back of a pew.
"The only one that I need to be cute for is Father Muller." She said, standing back up. Once again she fixed her hair and clothing. "You are neither a follower nor him; therefore, how I appear before you doesn't matter." She puffed out her chest, proudly overcompensating for something nature had negated.
"You're proud of that?" I tilted my head. "That's…no, never mind. You shouldn't think like that."
With her looks, she really should be more careful about how others perceive her. Thugs from the Lower Layer would love to have a one-on-one with her, not that they would last to even lay a finger on her, but the thought still stands.
"Is this what you meant, Mister?" Sara said from behind me. "She's nothing like she was moments ago…and it's scary."
"Urk!"
What…?
Upon speaking those words, Lilas fell to her knees as if physically taking damage from Sara's accurate conclusion.
It was scary, not in the sense that she herself was terrifying, but rather it felt as if she was forcing herself to act this way. Or maybe it was the other way around. Lilas might be like this, but she forces herself to be the ideal Mother of the church.
As she sat on the ground, a dejected look on her face, something caught my eye. The ends of the sleeves of her undershirt were slightly red. I approached her, grabbing her arm.
She flinched, her eye snapping towards me as she tried to pull her arm back. Lilas was weaker than I imagined. She wielded a blade that was about as big as her, but was unable to pull herself free from my grip.
I almost pity her for being overly reliant on her artifact. But that pity was redirected towards the scars on her wrists. They looked neither from battle nor from punishment caused by the cruel man known as the Saint of this chapel.
I loosened my grip by accident, and she pulled herself free. With a snap of her fingers, a blue light flashed across the gathering hall, and a large projectile flew towards her hand. A large blade made from steel and crystal, she held the tip towards my throat, murdering me countless times with her gaze alone.
"Don't you dar—"
"Calm it, Lilas." I placed my hand on her blade and pushed it aside. Sure enough, it was heavy, but she held it with one hand as if it were nothing but paper. "I won't tell a soul about what I saw."
*Tap Tap Tap*
The faint sound of distant footsteps filled my ears. I picked up Lilas's vestments and tossed them to her. She understood immediately and stabbed her blade into the ground. It tore through the floor with ease, with small chips of metal towering up from its edge. Lilas quickly donned her clothing as the doors to the gathering hall opened.
A sister, dressed modestly like someone who is actually part of a religious sect, stood staring at us. Sara went behind me and squeezed my hand while Lilas straightened her posture, kicking her chain-mail under the pew.
It was pointless to do that while your blade was still embedded in the floor.
Upon what I thought was a bizarre sight, the sister let out a tired sigh as she pulled out a small book and started jotting something down. "The third time this month she's stabbed the floor…" she muttered. She closed the book and returned her gaze toward us. "Golden Steam, Saint Edmond wishes to have a word with you."