The whispered voice of prayer flowed from between the lips and teeth. Slightly jerky at first, then gradually smooth. Whether answered or not, prayer itself seems to have a calming power.

The doubts and hesitations have not disappeared, but they no longer weigh on my heart like a heavy fog, obscuring all the sun.

Browder looked up, and suddenly realized that he hadn't prayed like this in a long time—there were always so many trivial things that he had to run around and put on a mask to deal with different people. Initially he wasn't good at ...... He is only gentle and polite, and he is not easily angered. And then he even started to enjoy it...... Only then did he realize that the pride and vanity that had unconsciously bred in his heart had blinded him for too long.

He thought it might be some kind of test...... So that they can find their way that has been lost in this worldly fame and fortune.

- But what did Ed do wrong?

They certainly won't be completely blind in Visa. Before evening, he had received the news, and although it was vague in some places, it was enough to shock him.

The first thought that popped into his head was not how to solve this deepening crisis, but how to hide it from others...... But the news had spread rapidly through the temple.

Rumor has it that there are wings faster than dragons...... And then it won't be long before the whole of Visa, and even the whole of Rutger, all the cities on the whole continent, all the people, will hear the same, or even more shocking, news: Sean Fletcher is a murderer who deceives the world, and Ed Singer is a sinister and cunning. Ambitious crooks......

People will talk about it - and how many of them will care if it's true?

Browder was pretty sure it was all a lie, but he also knew it a hundred times. tends to become real, and now Sean is still nowhere to be seen, and Ed confesses in a panic...... They don't even know how to fight back.

He was even somewhat glad that Ed's escape had made him the King's most pressing enemy at the moment—and that gave the temple a moment to breathe...... This rejoicing immediately filled his heart with guilt.

He knew Ed—the innocent young man could see through it almost at a glance. Of course, he could not have committed such a terrible crime...... When he learned that the group of people who had been brought back from the Windwhispering Forest claimed that the Singhals had paid for them, he was the one who agreed to keep the news a secret from Ed for the time being, as it was obviously false, and there was no need to put more pressure on Ed for a false accusation.

If you know it, it will also become a weapon against Ed......

He secretly blamed Sean for hiding too many secrets, and now he let them bear the consequences when they knew nothing. But what they did to Ed wasn't much better.

Browder shook his head, knowing that even continuing to pray would not calm his troubled mind again.

There was a knock on his door. A paladin stood straight in front of his door. The helmet was held in his arms, and the young face exuded uncontrollable panic and unease.

Browder almost asked, "Did you find the body?"

They found the coffin with the name of Helena Chrissus inscribed on it, but it was empty, and Ikabird refused to say a word.

Browder could only let a few paladins he absolutely believed in continue the search on the island of the Holy Sepulchre. And the paladin in front of him is not one of them.

If he remembers well. This probationary knight's mission tonight should be to guard the dungeon.

"What's going on, Lavenger?" he had to ask, as some of the distraught young men looked like they had forgotten what to say.

“...... Yes!" the young man came to his senses, "the man in the dungeon, Seroin...... He said he could tell you something about Master Sean Fletcher, if you could be ...... Can release them before His Majesty takes over the Temple. ”

Browder's face darkened: "How could he know this?"

Seroin was the leader of the group in the dungeon, and he insisted that he and his men were hired by the Singers...... He hadn't mentioned Sean before!

Cravenger snorted and lowered his head, not daring to say anything. But Browder could have somewhat predicted that he or his companion might have been talking about something in a panic. And it also fell into the ears of their prisoners.

In this case, he got more lies—but after a moment's thought, Browder nodded.

In any case, he couldn't let those guys shake these already dazed young people with more lies.

Because of the fact that it was completely submerged, the dungeon of the Temple of Collins was extremely damp, with a warm humidity and a faint stench.

Browder walked down the stairs and suddenly felt something strange. It wasn't because of what I had heard—the dungeon was silent, except for the sound of ticking water, the light of torches illuminating the darkest part of the temple, and the closed door with runes carved by priests......

In the still air, he instinctively sensed danger.

He turned nimbly when there was a sound of wind behind his head, and his long sword accurately held the stick that fell on his head, his eyes widened in disbelief, his heart sank sharply, and he jumped wildly in anger.

"Klevenger!" he roared.

The young man who was moving at him from behind had a pale face, his lips trembling, and he looked desperate and frightened—but his eyes were clear, and he knew what he was doing.

He let go of his stick and took a step back as if he were about to fall, a hint of fear in his eyes.

Browder suddenly turned around, but it was too late.

Someone silently sneaked up on his back, and the long, slender and sharp weapon pierced through his armor and pierced his heart with precision.

Browder looked down in surprise and recognized the near-transparent, slender magic sword...... It used to hang on the wall of the sacristy and has only recently been put into storage......

The Murderer's Sword - what an apt name.

There was an almost gentle coldness that lay across the chest, and it didn't hurt. Browder let out a long, low sigh, as if he had let out his last breath in his chest, and with it his life.

He slowly fell to his knees, the rapidly descending darkness taking everything away, unable to take away the anger and doubt in his soul.

"Goddess ......"

Before his heart stopped, his lips squirmed, and he uttered one last prayer full of questions and sorrow.

The murderer drew his sword, lowered his eyes down, and looked at the dead paladin who remained on his knees, and his cold voice was not without pity: "I'm sorry...... Your God is dead. ”

"By all means...... Do you want to do that?" Above the stairs, Klevenger said in a daze, tears welling up uncontrollably in his eyes, "Do you have to kill him?"

"It was a better ending for him. Seroin calmly wiped the blood from his sword with the corner of his coat and narrowed his eyes slightly, "Or do you want him to see with his own eyes what we're going to do, to see the blood stain this white temple?"

Klevenger looked at him, his dull eyes gradually filled with fear, as if he had only realized what he had done at this moment.

"You can't!"

He roared and drew his long sword and slammed it down, but suddenly his feet went limp, and the whole person fell forward, rolled down the steps, and lay motionless on the ground.

Seroin calmly avoided it, looked sideways at the dagger that had stabbed deep into the young paladin's eye socket, stooped it out, and threw it nonchalantly back into the darkness.

Someone reached out and grabbed the dagger and slowly walked into the light. Behind him, there were more figures, but no one made a sound.

"The night is still long, ladies and gentlemen. Seroin spoke softly, his indigo eyes as cold as ice, "Let's get started." ”.

Icabold stared at the cobweb-like black metal in front of him, pondering for a moment as he weaved another wire as thin as a hair.

He could hear the paladins moving in a corner of the tomb, but it didn't bother him in any way—they couldn't find anything here.

When the voices suddenly disappeared, he stopped his movements and slowly lowered his hand.

In the dead silence of the tomb, someone suddenly chuckled behind him: "You weave a bird's nest? ”

The voice was soft and sweet, slightly greasy like cream.

Icabold looked at his masterpiece—it was a bit of a bird's nest. The tough wires stretched in all directions, clinging to the solid stone bricks and pillars, but in the middle it was like a tangled mess, and a slender black crack was faintly visible between the gaps...... It was as if some huge beast's pupils narrowed slightly, quiet, but dangerous.

"Aren't you supposed to build some walls here?"

The ignored intruder stepped forward and gestured casually, "Like Scott said?"

"He has great power, but he knows nothing of the subtleties of magic. ”

Ikabard finally spoke, reaching out and fiddling with a few black wires, whispering a few incantations.

"Maybe you'd like to tell me?" Lydia smiled, wary, "I know a thing or two about magic. ”

Icabold turned his gaze to her, but even Lydia couldn't see through the fog in his eyes—there seemed to be nothing in them, and everything seemed to be hidden.

"Lydia? He said, in a flat, expressionless tone, "You don't know anything." ”

Lydia raised an eyebrow slightly, a little annoyed and a little uneasy—she knew that this priest was very difficult, so she was cautious about taking matters into her own hands...... But that's probably not really cautious?

Icabold turned his head away from her.

"I can't make you understand...... "but I can show you." ”

A strange blue light illuminated his paper-pale skin, and a sound like a breeze plucking the strings sounded in the tomb.

Lydia took a step back in surprise—the black "nest" bloomed like a flower before her eyes.

"Look. The pastor's voice was as empty as a dream, but there was a relief: "This is the beginning...... It's also the end.

(To be continued......)