The hours slipped away, and night descended upon the underground domain. The square beneath the Basilica of Saint Peter stirred with a palpable tension, its stillness broken only by the faint rustling of robes and whispered prayers. The gathered crowd, numbering in the hundreds—perhaps more—stood like a sea of doves cloaked in pure white. Their garments, stark and unblemished, blended together, creating an almost otherworldly atmosphere. Among them, a few donned vestments reminiscent of priests, their ornate embroidery catching the dim light.
At the heart of this congregation was a figure that commanded all attention. The Eminence, Martha, stood tall, her extravagant garments gleaming in the torchlight. Her robes, encrusted with shimmering jewels, were both majestic and unnerving, an ostentatious display of her authority. A veil concealed her face, lending her an enigmatic air, while her posture radiated dominance. Surrounding her in a semi-circle were the Twelve Apostles, their presence a silent testament to their allegiance and purpose.
Beneath their feet stretched a colossal magic circle, its intricate Latin inscriptions carved deep into the stone floor. Though dormant, it pulsed faintly with a latent energy, as if anticipating the ritual to come.
Martha raised her arms with deliberate grace, as if she were lifting the weight of the heavens themselves. Her voice, sharp and commanding, rang out across the square, slicing through the hushed air.
"The time has come! For years, we have waited, prepared, and endured. But now, the moment is upon us. With this girl, our justice shall be served!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, a cacophony of devotion that reverberated off the stone walls of the underground domain. Some raised their arms in exultation, while others knelt in reverence, their faces lit with fervent anticipation.
Martha turned, her sweeping gesture drawing attention to the figure standing silently beside her—Maria. Draped in a flowing white gown, Maria's appearance was both haunting and divine. The fabric clung to her delicate frame, its purity amplifying the pallor of her skin. A thin veil obscured her face, granting her an ethereal presence that seemed almost too perfect for the grim purpose she was meant to fulfill.
Above them, the moon loomed high, its golden light streaming through the transparent dome that encased the square. It shone with an almost judgmental brilliance, piercing even the grand Basilica above. Its glow painted the scene in hues of silver and gold, heightening the gravity of the unfolding ritual.
Martha's voice swelled once more, commanding the crowd's attention.
"And now, with everything prepared, let the ritual begin!"
With a decisive motion, she stepped away from Maria, her movements fluid and calculated. The Twelve Apostles moved into position around the circle, their synchronized gestures igniting the first stirrings of its power.
The dormant circle beneath Maria's feet suddenly sparked to life, its intricate lines glowing with a vivid red light. The glow surged outward from the center, where Maria stood, illuminating the inscriptions in fiery detail. Gradually, the red light gave way to a spectrum of colors—violets, greens, and blues intertwining like living streams of energy. The air grew thick with the hum of arcane power, a low vibration that resonated in the chests of all present.
Maria remained still, though her fingers trembled faintly as she clutched the fabric of her dress. The energy of the ritual coiled around her like invisible tendrils, probing, pulling, draining. Her breaths grew shallow as the circle sought to extract the mana within her—a slow, deliberate process designed to preserve her life but strip her of her strength.
The Twelve Apostles exchanged fleeting glances, their expressions stoic yet tinged with unease. Even in their practiced motions, a flicker of apprehension betrayed the enormity of their task.
Martha, however, was unwavering. Her gaze remained fixed on the circle, her arms raised in a posture of exaltation. "This is the culmination of our faith, the reckoning of the unjust," she declared, her voice ringing with conviction.
As the ritual intensified, the glowing lines of the circle began to lift from the ground, forming a spiraling column of light. The inscriptions twisted and danced in the air, their luminescence casting shifting shadows across the square. The crowd watched in rapt silence, their awe tempered only by the creeping dread of what they had set into motion.
Maria's knees buckled slightly, her strength waning as the ritual's energy pulled at her essence. She clenched her jaw, her resolve steady despite the mounting strain.
Above her, the spiraling column of light began to coalesce into a single, blinding orb suspended in midair. The moonlight seemed to converge upon it, amplifying its radiance until it rivaled the brilliance of the sun.
The moment stretched, a fragile stillness settling over the square as the ritual reached its crescendo.
Then, with a deafening crack, the orb burst outward, releasing a shockwave that rippled through the domain. The crowd staggered under its force, some shielding their eyes from the dazzling explosion of light. The air crackled with residual energy, a lingering reminder of the immense power that had just been unleashed.
Martha lowered her arms slowly, her movements measured and deliberate. A triumphant smile spread beneath her veil as she surveyed the aftermath. "It is done," she murmured, her voice heavy with satisfaction.
The Twelve Apostles relaxed their stances, though their faces remained grave. They had taken the first step toward their goal, but the true consequences of their actions had yet to unfold.
Maria, though weak, managed to steady herself, her breath ragged but controlled. Beneath her veil, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Despite everything, she retained her composure, a quiet defiance shining through her exhaustion.
For a moment, all was still. Then, the gathered crowd began to chant, their voices rising in unison as they hailed their success. But amidst their jubilation, Maria's faint whisper went unheard:
"Oh. that. was. dramatic."
The ritual had only just begun, and the night was far from over.
***
I stood in the corner, carefully watching the ritual unfold. Clad in a white robe to blend in with this mob of zealots, I had infiltrated this place alone as a scout. The intel scribbled on that scrap of paper? Turns out, it was spot on. I'd planted a shadow on Judas earlier to keep tabs on him, not trusting his slippery nature. Now, confirming the accuracy of his information felt like a small victory. I casually clicked the device in my pocket, signaling the others that this wasn't just some wild goose chase.
But man, these guys gave me the creeps. I was sweating buckets just standing here. They had this eerie vibe that reminded me of those cults you'd see on TV. The ones with the shady rituals and a hotline to heaven, or so they claim. Were they going to ask me for a donation after this? Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised.
What struck me the most wasn't just their weirdness, though. It was this hideout—or castle, more like. This wasn't just some hole-in-the-wall base; it was a masterpiece of architecture. Ornate walls, towering columns, immaculate symmetry—if I didn't know any better, I'd think I was in a rival academy instead of a secret cult lair. How did they even build this? And right under the Basilica?
But all that took a backseat to the ritual itself. Maria stood in the middle of an enormous glowing magic circle, looking almost like a fragile doll in her pristine white dress. I could just rush in and scoop her out of there, sure, but then what? With this many ability users around, I'd be a dead man before we even made it to the door. Besides, the place was warded to hell and back. My shadows couldn't even sink into the ground here. Escaping was out of the question—pure suicide.
Oh, and how did I get in, you ask? The front door, obviously. I baited the guards out with a stack of... ahem magazines, then knocked them out cold. Holy men? Yeah, right. They're just perverts in fancy robes. Totally unlike me, of course. Why did I have those magazines in the first place? Uh, fieldwork necessities. Moving on.
The ritual seemed to be reaching its peak. The leader, a woman in the most extravagant robes, stood at the center, her voice commanding the crowd. Her tone was oddly familiar, but with her veil on, I couldn't quite place her. Then, the magic circle lit up—no, it practically exploded with color. Blinding hues of red, green, and blue swirled in a chaotic dance, drowning out the golden glow of the space.
And then it happened.
The light faded, and in its place stood... a gate.
"What in the world is that?!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. A few heads turned my way, but I quickly adjusted my hood and muttered, "Praise the light" or something equally cultish.
This wasn't just any gate, though. It was five meters tall, three meters wide, and utterly horrifying. Huge, bloodshot eyes blinked grotesquely across its surface, while rows of razor-sharp teeth grinned from what could only be described as its mouth. Why does a gate even have a mouth?!
The crowd gasped, and for once, I wasn't the only one freaking out. Even the leader, Miss Fancy Robes, stood frozen, her mouth agape. Whatever this thing was, it clearly wasn't in the script.
The air grew thick with an ominous energy, the kind that sends shivers down your spine and makes you regret all your life choices. Sweat poured down my back, and my legs felt like jelly. This wasn't just creepy—it was terrifying. This thing, whatever it was, spelled trouble. Big, teeth-filled trouble.
At its base, Maria lay slumped on the ground, unconscious. My heart jumped, but then I noticed the steady rise and fall of her chest. She was alive—just out cold. Thank heavens for small mercies.
But now we had a much bigger problem.
The gate—or whatever it was—let out a low, guttural growl. Yes, the gate growled. I didn't even know gates could do that. The crowd murmured nervously, their earlier fervor replaced with unease.
One of the Twelve Apostles took a cautious step forward, his voice trembling. "Eminence, is... is this supposed to happen?"
The leader didn't answer. She just stared at the monstrosity, her hands shaking slightly.
Meanwhile, I stood there, trying to decide whether to laugh, cry, or run. Probably all three.
"Oh, yeah," I muttered under my breath, eyeing the horrifying structure. "This is fine. Totally fine. No big deal. Just a demonic gate with teeth. Happens every day."
Maria groaned softly, shifting slightly on the ground. I couldn't help but think: Lucky you, Maria. At least you're unconscious for this nightmare.
The gate's eyes rolled—yes, rolled—and it snapped its teeth together with a deafening clack. That was enough to send a ripple of panic through the crowd. People started whispering prayers, clutching their robes, and inching back.
The leader finally seemed to snap out of it. "Stay calm!" she barked, though her voice lacked its usual authority. "This is merely... an unforeseen manifestation. Yes, a manifestation!"
A manifestation she say? Lady, this was a walking horror show with dental problems. Well, looking at her tells me she's at the dark as well on all of these.
And as if to mock her, the gate growled again, louder this time, its eyes narrowing as if sizing up the room.
I took a deep breath, adjusting the hood of my robe. "Well," I muttered, gripping the dagger hidden in my sleeve. "Guess it's time to improvise."
***
Kyouka and the rest of the team sprang into action the moment Gleren's signal came through. The plan was already in place, and the group divided into three units. Kyouka, the commander, stayed stationed with her assistant Reina to manage communication and strategy. Edelweiss led the vanguard—a formidable force made up of half the student council. They waited inside the church, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Meanwhile, Cho-hee managed the support team, positioned just outside the Basilica for reinforcements.
Gleren, however, worked alone. He had refused any companions during his scouting mission, citing efficiency. The real reason? He knew how dangerous this mission was, and dragging someone else along would've been a liability.
The Basilica marked the entrance to the underground domain. But just as Edelweiss and her team identified the way down, the entire building shuddered violently.
"What the—?!" Edelweiss cried, her composed demeanor slipping as the ground beneath them swelled unnaturally.
"Everyone, dodge!" she commanded, her voice sharp with urgency.
With an earsplitting BOOM, the floor erupted, reducing the church to rubble. From the destruction emerged a grotesque creature. It hovered above the ruined sanctuary, scanning the area like a predator hunting its prey.
"A dragon?" Xiang Xing murmured, squinting at the silhouette against the moonlight.
"No," Zenith interrupted, her brows furrowing. "It's a demon."
***
Martha's breath hitched as her eyes locked onto the ominous gate towering before her. It wasn't supposed to appear—this wasn't part of the summoning ritual. Yet, there it was, looming like a nightmare made flesh. Her heart sank as her loyal followers shifted uneasily.
"Peter, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice trembling with fury and disbelief.
"Oh, no need to shout, Your Eminence... or should I say, former Eminence?"
The sneer in Peter's voice cut deeper than any blade. Behind him stood the other Apostles, their loyalty evidently no longer hers. Their smug expressions confirmed her worst fear: betrayal.
"You planned this?" Martha hissed.
Peter's grin widened, his tone dripping with mockery. "Of course. Did you think your reign would last forever? This gate, Solomon's Gate, houses the most ancient and ferocious demons. And now, they are under our command. Your holy blessings? Your precious Seraphim? They are no match for what lies within."
As if to punctuate his declaration, the gate groaned, and a dark mist spilled forth. From within the mist stepped the first demon—a towering figure with the head of a goat, human torso, and a snake-like tail that writhed menacingly. Its lower half resembled a horse, muscles rippling with every step. The mere sight of it made the air feel heavier, oppressive.
Martha trembled, her knees buckling under the creature's gaze. Matthias, ever the loyal protector, leapt forward. "Kruger! Get the teleportation gate ready!" he barked, raising his blade as a shield between Martha and the demon.
The demon moved faster than Matthias could react. One moment, it stood meters away; the next, it loomed before him. Its claws came down in a brutal arc. Matthias barely managed to block, the force of the impact sending him sprawling with a choked gasp.
"Matthias!" Martha screamed, her voice breaking. But her fear turned to dread as the demon turned its attention to her. Its blood-red eyes glinted with malice as it raised its claw, ready to strike. Martha could only raise her arms in a futile attempt to shield herself.
The wind howled as the demon's strike descended—but the blow never landed.
When Martha dared to open her eyes, she saw the demon pinned to the ground, its face crushed into the flooring. A boy knelt beside it, one hand pressed firmly against its head. Black hair framed his face, his robe askew, revealing a strikingly handsome profile.
"Gleren?" Martha whispered, stunned.
He glanced at her, blinking as her veil fluttered away, revealing her face. He blinked again, clearly taken aback.
"Wow," he muttered. "Seriously?"
***
Things were spiraling out of control.
Maria was unconscious. Martha was almost skewered. And now, there was this creeptastic gate spitting out demons like it was some kind of hellish vending machine. Could I catch a break for once?
The first demon thrashed under my grip, its grotesque features contorted in rage. Gross. Its skin was clammy, its breath rancid—handling it was like wrestling with a swamp.
I couldn't hold it for long, not with all the Apostles glaring daggers at me. They clearly weren't thrilled about me crashing their little rebellion. Too bad. Their plan sucked.
"Gleren…" Martha muttered, her voice shaky.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered back, ignoring her wide-eyed stare as I shoved the demon into the ground one last time. "We can talk about your secret life as a cult leader later."
I raised a wall of shadows between us and the Apostles, buying us some time. As I crouched beside Maria, I checked her over. "Mana deprivation and blood loss," I murmured. "Great."
The demon, meanwhile, wasn't giving up. It screeched in frustration as it battered against the shadow wall. Unable to break through, it roared and leapt skyward, smashing through the church's roof. The silhouette it cut against the moonlight was terrifyingly majestic.
"Okay, I'll admit—that looks kinda cool," I muttered. "But still, screw that guy."
Matthias groaned in the corner, surrounded by Sacred Omen members trying to patch him up. Kruger was busy fiddling with the teleportation gate, his eyes darting to me nervously.
"Relax," I called out. "Just do your thing. I'm not here to ruin your day. Yet."
"I-I see."
He heaved a sigh of relief. Wait, so he really thought that?! You hated me that much, huh? You bastard. Well, all of them are eyeing me with suspicion. Not that I'm in a mood to clobber them all. Waste of energy.
"Now what? We're in a pinch here."
But before anyone could relax, the gate groaned again. Another demon stepped out—a hulking minotaur with burning eyes and muscles that could probably bench-press a cathedral.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," I muttered.
The minotaur roared, shaking the air. The Apostles cheered. My team looked like they were about to pass out.
"Hoo boy," I sighed, glancing at Maria and then at Martha, who still looked like a deer in headlights. "Guess I'll have to clean this mess up, too."