Borne wandered through the streets of Celestoria, observing every detail around him.
The streets were gradually quieting down, and the crowd began to thin.
The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, painting the sky in a brilliant shade of orange-red.
He realized that it was getting late; soon, the night would fall, and the city's curfew would begin.
Borne stopped and gazed at the dimming streets, feeling a tinge of anxiety in his heart.
With very little money left, he knew he needed to save what he had for purchasing weapons the next day.
With this thought in mind, he had to consider where he would spend the night.
Finding a safe and affordable place to stay in this unfamiliar city did not seem easy.
He hesitated for a moment, contemplating his next move.
Finally, he decided to return to the priest and spend the night at the old church.
Though the priest's behavior still seemed a bit mysterious, he clearly appeared to be a kind-hearted clergyman, and the church seemed like a place that could offer him temporary shelter.
With that thought, Borne turned and began walking back in the direction of the church, following the path he remembered.
He quickly moved through several alleys and finally arrived at the old church just before the sky turned completely dark.
The church's exterior, bathed in the last rays of the setting sun, appeared even more worn and ancient.
But a few dim lights still flickered at the entrance, bringing a hint of warmth to this small area.
Borne reached the entrance of the church and saw a few beggars lingering outside.
They seemed reluctant to leave, as if this place was the only safe haven they could rely on.
Father Raphael stood at the church's doorway, speaking gently with them, seemingly trying to soothe their emotions.
When he saw Borne approaching, a familiar smile appeared on his face.
"You've returned."
Borne felt a bit awkward, hesitating to speak.
Father Raphael seemed to understand his thoughts, a gentle smile in his eyes, and he approached Borne, saying softly, "My child, I see you are in a bit of a bind.
There's no need to worry about it; I understand your situation."
Borne looked up at the priest, feeling the warmth and understanding in his gaze, and said, somewhat sheepishly, "Thank you, Father. I'm sorry to trouble you."
Father Raphael smiled and shook his head gently, replying in a kind tone, "You have nothing to worry about; this place always keeps its doors open for those who need help.
Tonight, you can stay here again, sleep in my room, so you can save some money and have a better place to rest."
Borne was taken aback; the priest's offer surprised him.
To let him stay in his own room was a remarkably generous gesture.
Although the church was old and worn, he understood that every room here was precious to the people within.
A wave of warmth rushed through him; such kindness from a stranger moved him deeply.
"Is that really okay, Father?" Borne asked hesitantly, his tone filled with gratitude and a hint of doubt.
"Of course," Father Raphael nodded gently.
"Alright, then, thank you very much for your generosity, Father."
Father Raphael had originally intended to invite the beggars inside the church to rest, but they shook their heads, declining his offer.
"We are too dirty; we don't want to soil your place," the beggars murmured quietly.
They felt covered in dirt and didn't wish to bring filth into such a sacred space.
They preferred to keep watch outside the church, feeling they could be of some help that way.
Seeing this, Father Raphael did not insist further. Instead, he smiled and nodded.
"Very well, but at least let me give you some blankets and firewood; the night will be cold."
Finishing his words, Father Raphael turned around and brought out several thick blankets and bundles of dry firewood from inside the church, distributing them to the beggars.
The beggars accepted them with deep gratitude.
"Thank you, Father."
Then, he led Borne through the church's corridor toward his own room.
It was a modest, small room inside the church, furnished with only a wooden bed, a desk, and a few old books.
A simple slanted cross hung on the wall, and the room was unusually quiet and serene.
"If you need anything, just let me know," Father Raphael said warmly.
Borne nodded in appreciation and entered the room, feeling a sense of calm wash over him.
Though the place was sparse, it gave him a comforting feeling.
Perhaps tonight, he could find a rare sense of peace again.
He slowly lay down, closing his eyes.
He felt the hard bed frame beneath him and the rough texture of the old sheets, yet these sensations made him feel grounded and secure.
His thoughts began to empty as he soaked in the tranquility around him, his mood unwittingly calming down.
Before long, Borne's breathing steadied, and he drifted into a deep sleep.
Borne wasn't sure how long he had been asleep.
Suddenly!
A series of blood-curdling screams shattered the night's silence from outside the church.
Almost immediately, he heard the sound of frantic footsteps growing louder, as if a group of people were rushing toward the church.
Borne's eyes flew open, his heart racing.
He quickly sat up in bed, his ears keenly picking up the noises from outside.
The strong scent of blood began to permeate the air.
This was far from the usual nighttime disturbance.
He instinctively sensed that something was terribly wrong, that the situation might be extremely dangerous.
Carefully, he opened the door, trying not to make any noise, and slowly peeked his head out, his eyes swiftly scanning every corner of the church.
Borne's gaze finally settled in the center of the church.
Father Raphael was kneeling before the statue of Alkis, his posture solemn and serene.
The figure on the statue was nailed to a slanted cross, his long hair covering his face.
His eyes were closed, seemingly lost in deep prayer, with both hands pressed tightly against the slanted cross on his chest, clearly engrossed in the sacred ritual.
Despite the growing noise outside, filled with chaos and fear, Father Raphael's expression remained unchanged, as if the clamor had nothing to do with him.
Borne furrowed his brows, unable to understand the scene before him.
Something terrible was clearly happening outside the church, yet the priest seemed completely unmoved, maintaining his posture of prayer.
What was he waiting for? Did he already know that this chaos was coming?
The footsteps grew more hurried, accompanied by muttered curses and angry whispers, getting closer by the second.
Borne's hands instinctively tightened, a sense of alertness and tension rising within him.
He crept out of the room, staying close to the wall to remain hidden, and slowly moved toward the center of the church.
The noise in his ears became clearer, and he could feel the tension in the air growing more intense.
"Father, what's going on?"
Borne asked in a low voice, his eyes fixed on Father Raphael, who was still kneeling before the statue of Alkis, feeling increasingly uneasy.
But the priest remained silent, eyes closed, kneeling before the statue, seemingly lost in his own prayer.
Borne grew even more unsettled.
The chaos and footsteps outside continued, but the priest's calmness gave him a sense of unsettling tranquility.
The next moment, a loud bang echoed through the room as the church's old door was suddenly pushed open, the door panels hitting the wall with a dull thud.
Borne quickly turned his head toward the entrance and saw a group of people rushing in—there were eleven of them in total.
Their steps were hurried, their expressions tense and serious, making it clear they were here with ill intent.
Borne's eyes focused on the person leading them, and he was taken aback.
It was Eugene! The tall, skinny deacon!