The cathedral fell into an eerie quiet as the dim mixed light from the colored glass windows crept into the darkness and bathed Lucian in a slight glow. A plop broke the silence as blood dropped from the sharp edge of the glass shard he held onto the floor, and in doing so, it seemed to drag the aged woman back to reality.
She gazed down at the priest who seemed to have already lost the fight for his life, his holy robe now soaked in the puddle of blood he lay in. Then her gaze traced up to his killer standing over his body, and as she looked at Lucian, she saw him looking back at her, his grey eyes boring into her very soul.
Fear rushed through her veins, and she stumbled back. She wanted to beg, plead for her life, but her pleas got caught in her throat, unable to utter a single word, just silently trembling as the frail young boy she had picked from the alleyway watched her with a gaze that did not belong to a child.
Then, breaking the silence, Lucian's voice echoed through the cathedral.
"I've done a job for his men..." Lucian began, his voice calm and steady, not a trace of anything discernible, almost as if the murder he had committed was an uneventful act.
"He deserves to die," he continued, and then a frown crept onto Lucian's face. He wondered why he felt the need to justify his killing to this woman.
If anything, he should kill her as well. After all, she heard what the priest had said.
"Go, run and don't turn back," Lucian instructed, and the woman, without another word, turned and dashed towards the cathedral exit as fast as she could.
'Even if she told someone, no one would believe her.'
Lucian watched as the woman left the cathedral and let out a sigh before muttering under his breath.
"Now, what exactly is this?"
Name: Lucian
Sponsors: The Almighty, Lucifer Morningstar
Holy core: Dormant
Demonic core: Infernal 1 [0/25 souls required for next tier advance]
Memory: 0.00002% recovered
Lucian stared at the glowing grey rune that displayed before him, with an expression that mixed intrigue and confusion. He didn't know everything about chosens, but he was certain the rune he saw had nothing to do with being one, as he had been a chosen for years but only now was seeing this.
'More importantly, sponsoring me... what exactly are you planning, Father?'
Lucian gazed at the first written sponsor [The Almighty]. This was completely absurd as chosens were only sponsored by the thirteen gods and never the first himself. However, that managed to still not be the most unlikely thing as Lucian's eyes shifted to the second sponsor.
'How is it even possible for the devil to be a sponsor?'
Finally, his eyes fell on the two cores listed. Every chosen possessed a holy core, and every militant from hell, demon, and beast possessed a demonic core, but never both. However, that did not seem to be the case for Lucian. He had felt it within him when the priest had appraised him, but the runes he gazed at confirmed it. The impossible had somehow transpired; he had both, most likely as a result of having Lucifer as a sponsor.
"If I have a demonic core, does that mean..." Lucian muttered as he bent down towards the dead priest.
He gazed at the corpse for a few moments before putting his hands over the face of the man. Suddenly, red and grey streaks formed from atop the corpse and began to flow towards the palm of Lucian, and as this happened, a wave of strength rushed through his veins.
Then it stopped, and silence followed. Lucian looked down at the corpse of the priest, and although physically it looked the same, it was clear something was missing, taken from him. Lucian knew what it was, but as if to confirm, a rune materialized before him.
[You have absorbed the soul of: Mortal Human]
A wide smile began to split the face of the frail boy as he read the words. Just as he had suspected, he had also received the devil-given ability of demons to take the souls of the dead and use them as fuel for his own power.
As Lucian stood there, his mind racing with possibilities, the silence that engulfed the cathedral was disrupted. The footsteps of approaching men echoed through the crumbling holy sanctuary, and with a stealthy agility honed on the streets, Lucian moved and hid in the darkness.
The men, who wore robes similar to the priest's, had a stark contrast to their holy apparel—the weapons they brandished, machetes and long swords, all stained with blood that looked eerily fresh. Soon they reached the middle of the cathedral, where the body of the priest lay on the floor, his clothes soaked in his own crimson.
The men paused, simply standing and staring down at the corpse of the man. They stayed silent, and with a terrifying nonchalance, they joined their hands, still gripping weapons, and whispered a short prayer.
"May the gods guide your soul, holy one," one of the men whispered, a scar tracing ear to jaw and his voice rough and gravelly. The man raised the blade he held and looked directly towards the dark corner where Lucian had hidden.
"Come out, let us send you behind the holy one, so you may receive judgment as well."