Inside the now-empty church—with the door slammed wide open.
"Eurgghk!!" the fat proselyte grunted in pain as he pulled out the sword stabbing his arm.
He writhed and hissed as he did that.
Once the sword was out of his tentacle arm, he angrily threw it away.
"Fuck those kids!" He cursed, holding his weak and also bleeding tentacle arm. "Just what's wrong with them? More importantly, who was that devil? He poisoned us using these damn people and proceeded to walk over us! He even touched Catherine, MY Catherine!"
Remembering Lucivar's horrifying face, the fat proselyte felt a shiver run down his spine.
But mixed in his emotions was unbridled anger for Lucivar.
He never knew an academy hunter could be or even allowed to be that ruthless.
Grabbing the pew to his side, he tried standing up but it was hard.
It seemed the poison or the God's power inside of him was still ransacking his internal flow.
