A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips from behind the translucent veil. But Gabriel couldn't return it.
Before the veiled woman lay a body—battered beyond recognition, with gaping holes where flesh should have been. The stench of decay and scorched skin hung heavy in the stagnant air.
"I was disgusted to see this filth wearing priestly vestments," a voice rang out, "so I ordered them removed."
Gabriel couldn't make out the speaker's face in the dim torchlight. Only when he spotted the monastic robe neatly folded beside the ruined corpse did he realize that the man before him was Berga—a priest of the Verga order.
"The heart isn't beating. See how the skull is fractured?" The speaker's tone was clinical, detached. "Death must have been instantaneous."
The mutilated body suddenly jerked.
Bishop Marik grabbed it by the hair and lifted it contemptuously, examining the ruined face without flinching.
"And even in this state, it still moves."
No matter how much holy water they poured on the abomination, it only corroded the flesh further. To finally destroy the creature, they would need to drown it completely. No further information could be extracted from it now—there was no other choice.
"He is not destined to rest in the arms of Lady Rachel..." Marik's voice carried the weight of divine judgment. "Such is the fate of traitors to the faith."
She released her grip. The body collapsed to the floor with a wet, hollow thud.
Today, the bishop was especially cruel—perhaps due to the enormity of the crimes this man had committed. Marik, a former nun herself, was particularly revolted by Berga's actions at the remote monastery.
Thanks to Daisy's denunciation, Berga and his two accomplices had been apprehended.
Although the demon Daisy mentioned was never found, bloody papers discovered in Berga's cell clearly indicated the use of a ritual circle. Furthermore, witnesses and evidence of bribery and assault had been uncovered. When the murder committed to cover up the evidence came to light, even the Berga family—fearing the wrath of the Church—hastened to disown him.
"He probably used the image hanging in the temple for his magic," Marik noted, immediately recognizing the ritual circle's origin.
"Do you remember the massacre of heretics twenty years ago, Bishop?"
"A massacre?" Marik's lips curved with faint amusement. "Please, Captain, watch your language. It was a *purge*. And yes, I remember it well. It was around that time I left the monastery."
This devout servant of Rachel did not hesitate to shed blood in the name of her goddess. It was precisely her service during that purge that had elevated Marik to her current position.
"You must be too young to remember those events," Marik continued, as if sharing ancient wisdom with a young follower. "The symbols of sorcerers are easy to recognize. They always depict stars."
During Rachel's reign, the sun was the sole symbol of holiness. Stars represented everything in opposition—pitiful, insignificant forces that dared to challenge the sun yet posed no true threat.
That was why stars so often appeared in sorcerers' ritual drawings. Wretches unworthy even to gaze upon Rachel prayed for help not to the goddess, but to the stars. But the stars were not omnipotent, and their help always came at a price. Because of their corrupt nature, pacts had to be formed with them.
"They claim that if you make a sacrifice and offer a prayer, the contract will be concluded."
Gabriel remembered the woman he had met that day. Her face surfaced unbidden in his mind.
"You must have already known about the danger of the painting, since you recognized the witchcraft so quickly."
"Yes." Marik's voice hardened. "If I'd known that evil would spread through the riverbeds where the Danube Blue flows, I would have ordered the painting's destruction sooner. Even if the other brothers and sisters had objected..."
_It will spread along the riverbeds..._ Gabriel turned these words over carefully. Marik spoke with feigned conviction, but her words were laced with something else—a desire, perhaps, for everything to happen exactly as it had.
Bishop Marik wielded considerable influence even among other bishops. If she had truly wanted to remove the painting, she could have done so long before the fire.
To deliberately exhibit Donau's painting, allow evil to spread, and then—having caught the sorcerers—gain fame for herself... Suspicions that Marik had orchestrated events to claim the cardinal's position seemed entirely plausible.
But Marik, as if harboring no secret designs whatsoever, smiled with practiced benevolence.
"What fortune that the fire occurred before the evil could spread further."
Gabriel could not share her joy over the burned painting.
While investigating the cause of the fire, he had accidentally learned about the fate of the artist—Jim Nopedi, creator of the cursed work.
Jim had reportedly traveled the world seeking inspiration for a new masterpiece, one intended to surpass all his previous creations. Donau's death had become that inspiration, so he sought out similar subjects. But few relatives of the deceased would consent to such desecration of their loved ones' bodies.
Eventually, Jim found a body that satisfied him completely. He approached an old woman who had lost her grandson and offered to immortalize the boy on canvas. The old woman, furious at the proposition, drove him away.
Jim, thinking himself cornered, stole the body.
The enraged grandmother, along with other villagers, found Jim and beat him to death. The painting burned at the very moment the artist drew his final breath.
"Lady Rohanson, I believe? The one who extinguished the fire?"
"Yes. Exactly."
At the mention of Evangeline Rohanson, Gabriel watched Marik's reaction with careful attention.
"Ha-ha." Marik's laugh was light, dismissive. "Do you think I intend to harm her? Of course not... I simply wish to express my gratitude for her righteous deed."
At the previous meeting, Gabriel had chosen to remain silent. He tried to speak as little as possible about Evangeline Rohanson, to erase all traces of her involvement in the events.
"You are rather protective of your beloved, Captain."
To justify Evangeline's absence from the official account, Gabriel had been forced to resort to absurd explanations.
At the moment Donau's body was discovered, Evangeline Rohanson had transformed into a fragile young woman, concerned only for the fate of her servants caught in the flames.
Gabriel's visits to the Rohanson estate became expressions of a desire to console his beloved. The official reports he occasionally sent to Evangeline became love letters. Her visits to the temple became romantic trysts.
Gabriel had barely mentioned Daisy or the Ainoa orphanage. Daisy became merely an informant in the Berga case, unconnected to the shelter's darker secrets.
Instead, in collusion with Troy, Gabriel claimed that Evangeline had been regularly visiting the orphanage for charitable purposes—and therefore had been able to notice something was amiss. He kept silent, of course, about the symbols discovered there.
Gabriel had wanted to avoid mentioning Evangeline's name entirely, but Rafaella had objected. She pointed out that Gabriel and Evangeline had been seen together far too often.
"Captain, do you realize what people will think when they see you constantly meeting with the young lady, visiting her, writing her letters?"
"Well..."
"They'll think you, Gabriel, are pursuing a criminal. That you're willing to follow her to the ends of the earth to uncover the truth."
Rafaella stated there was only one way to avoid such suspicions.
"You're in love, Captain. Even the great leader of the Knights of Paralos, smitten by love, transforms into an ordinary man chasing skirts."
She had added that they would need Evangeline's cooperation in the future, and this pretense would help deflect unnecessary scrutiny.
Oddly enough, it worked. Evangeline's name, which occasionally surfaced at meetings, was easily dismissed as mere romantic interest.
"It's good to see you finally acting like a young man," one of the priests who had previously disapproved of Gabriel said, clapping him on the shoulder as they departed after a meeting.
Rafaella, witnessing this, had marveled at Gabriel's acting talent. Of course, the ruse didn't fool everyone. It certainly didn't fool the woman standing before him now—a devout believer willing to kill even her own lover in the name of Rachel.
"By the way, I noticed a new prisoner has appeared in one of the cells. Have you come to speak with her, Captain? Is it somehow connected with Lady Rohanson?"
"Yes, exactly," Gabriel replied, unwilling to discuss Evangeline further. Marik, who hadn't attended the meeting, knew about Headmistress Merai—which meant Javnaia must have reported everything to her.
"Since you have business with the sinner, Captain, we shall leave you to it."
"Please."
Marik stepped on Berga's remains one final time, then turned toward the exit.
"May the sun not see the sins hidden in darkness," she said—departing from her usual blessing.
Ascending the stairs, Marik was certain Gabriel intended to torture Merai.
---
Reaching the upper level, Marik removed her soiled cloak and handed it to the priest standing nearby, who obediently accepted the blood-stained garment.
"Bishop Javnaia."
"Yes, Lady Marik."
Javnaia responded with practiced eagerness. Despite their equal rank, a clear hierarchy existed between them—the old fox had served Marik faithfully for years.
"It seems the captain has entered a period of youthful rebellion. He's keeping secrets from you, even though he once treated you like a parent."
"It is natural for a young man to be shy about his love affairs."
Javnaia, eager to curry favor with Marik, often exaggerated his closeness to Gabriel. He had described how Gabriel considered him a mentor, ready to obey his every command without question.
And now this upstart, instead of helping Javnaia impress Marik, stood there keeping his own counsel. Javnaia felt exposed as a liar.
Marik generously forgave Javnaia for his miscalculation and offered him a chance to redeem himself.
"I'm curious to learn more about Lady Rohanson. You mentioned you met her, did you not? What impression did she make?"