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Chapter 7
Insidious Covenant Church
Rakael stood in the midst of a ghastly tableau, surrounded by a sea of mutilated bodies. The stench of decay clung to the air, but her gaze remained fixed on the empty sky above, as if seeking solace in the gray expanse. The relentless rain poured down, washing away the blood that stained her face—a macabre baptism of sorrow. Finally, with a primal scream that seemed to be swallowed by the storm, she broke free from her reverie.
"Rakael… Rakael… Rakael."
She jolted awake, her heart racing, a cold sweat drenching her skin. A female voice echoed from outside, piercing through the fog of her nightmares.
"Rakael."
"What?" Rakael barked, her voice hoarse and raw.
"The Lord summons all high members of the Church. If I may remind you, you are one of them now," the voice said, receding into the shadows.
***
Crimson drapes hung heavily over the long, stained-glass windows of the church, casting the room in a blood-red glow. The choking aroma of incense filled the air, thick and suffocating. A long wooden table stretched out in front of her, where the church's elite sat—six on each side, their expressions a blend of curiosity and suspicion. Veyan strode into the chamber, inhaling deeply as he absorbed the heavy scent of incense. As he took his place at the head of the table, the others rose in acknowledgment.
"Glad you all could make it on such short notice," Veyan said, his voice smooth and commanding.
"What's the wait for? We've had the boy for some time now. How can you be sure he hasn't been forgotten? I doubt the church is willing to risk Micah's artifact for a non-factor," Rakael's tone cut through the air, sharp as a dagger.
"Straight to business—I like this girl," a cool, masculine voice interjected. He raised his hat, revealing a patched eye; the other glimmered with keen interest as it studied Rakael, who sat directly across from him. "Where did you find this one?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"I happened to stumble upon her, Orion. Impressive, isn't she?" Cedric chimed in, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Shut it, creep," a feminine voice snapped, laced with annoyance.
"Master Veyan, why don't we venture out in search of the other artifacts? We could amass enough strength to reclaim Micah," she continued, her eyes flashing with ambition.
"Nova, that cannot happen. We need the Divine Compass to locate the rest… Micah will surely come," Veyan replied with a calm authority.
"And if he doesn't?" Nova challenged, her voice rising.
"We wait," Veyan stated firmly, his gaze unwavering.
"Why wait? You're so close to power, yet you hesitate?" Rakael shouted, her frustration boiling over as she slammed her palms on the table.
Veyan chuckled softly, flickers of flames dancing at his side, forming a humanoid ram, charred and menacing. The demon exuded an ominous energy, filling the air with foreboding. Rakael did not hesitate to manifest her own, two sinuous sea dragons coiling protectively around her.
"I like this girl," said a slender woman in a crimson gown, heavy jewelry glinting in the dim light. Her slit eyes sparkled with intrigue.
"Lilith, keep your gaze off her. She is mine," Cedric retorted, his smile unyielding.
"Well, not anymore. Everyone is intrigued by her," Orion shot back, his tone teasing.
"Including our esteemed leader. But what happened to her to evoke such hatred?" Orion continued, his interest genuinely piqued.
"Well, we must harness that hatred," another woman said, rising from her seat. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, framing her pale, fair face. She approached Rakael with a maternal air. "My dear child," she said, placing her hands gently on Rakael. "We know you harbor a great deal of anger towards the Church. I understand."
"Don't tell me you—" Rakael began, but Seraphina's hand released a green aura, causing Rakael's sea dragons to dissipate.
"That's a good girl," she smiled.
"Lord Veyan, you may proceed," she said, stepping back.
"Do not let their smiles or promises sway you. Remember, they are all demons—so am I," Henri whispered in Rakael's ear, his warning a low murmur.
***
Rakael stepped outside the imposing structure of the church, heading towards the sprawling field that stretched before her. There, in stark contrast to her darkness, stood Seraphina in a flowing white gown, a golden tiara perched atop her head, radiating an unsettling brightness. Rakael walked past her, purposefully ignoring the angelic figure.
"Rakael, dear, that's not a proper way to address a senior member," Seraphina called out, her tone deceptively sweet.
Unfazed, Rakael pressed on, but she could feel a vein throb beneath Seraphina's serene facade.
"I took the liberty to investigate your background, Rakael, and I must say, you have quite the intriguing past," Seraphina continued, stepping closer.
Rakael halted, intrigued despite herself.
"Glad I could capture your attention, dear," Seraphina said, her voice lilting as she approached. "Your parents were devoted members of the Church, tragically slain during the last raid by the Exorcist Church," she stated, her words laced with insidious sympathy.
Rakael turned away, but Seraphina pressed on. "You've trained on your own, which explains your remarkable mastery over your demon."
"What do you want?" Rakael shot back, irritation rising in her chest.
Seraphina's smile widened. "I want to help you, you see," she replied, appearing directly in front of Rakael. "I, too, have been a victim of the Exorcist Church. I lost my fiancé and child to one of their raids. Those monsters killed them in cold blood. Let us seek the Arcane Tome."
"What is that?" Rakael asked, a flicker of curiosity igniting within her.
"The Arcane Tome is one of the seven artifacts Veyan seeks to merge the four worlds together. It's an ancient book bound in dragon hide, containing spells of unimaginable power. With that tome, you could exact the revenge you desire. No demon's power can stand against the Exorcist Church, but with that book, you would wield the strength to topple them."
"Isn't that contrary to Veyan's plans?" Rakael questioned, her brow furrowing.
Seraphina burst into laughter, a sound that sent chills down Rakael's spine. "Rakael, do not be so naïve. Veyan craves power for himself; he cares not for our fates. So, what do you say?"
***
**Saint Agnes Basilica, Sancta Vertica**
**The Chancel**
Micah and Tyreel stood before Ecclesiastical Commander Daniel, both avoiding his piercing gaze, their expressions unreadable.
"First you, Tyreel—you assaulted a fellow exorcist and created a sizable crater in the field," Daniel began, his voice thunderous.
"A fellow exorcist? That's a devil, for Christ's sake," Tyreel shot back, defiance lacing his tone.
"Silence!" Daniel commanded, slamming his cane down with a resounding thud. "And you, Micah—you caused a scene and activated your Divine Form, fully aware of the risks involved."
Micah pouted, unrepentant.
Daniel exhaled deeply. "We face a grave situation. Prepare yourselves; you leave in an hour. Dismissed."
"Yes, Commander," they chorused, their voices echoing through the hallowed halls.
***
Jeremiah took a deep breath, the wind rustling through the field, invigorating him.
"If I wish to attain that level of power, I must learn to fight without relying on Eosphoros," he mused, determination kindling within him. Purple flames enveloped his body as he clapped his hands, releasing a thin blade of flame that sliced through the open air.
"If you want to improve significantly, you'll need at least a target—and perhaps a mentor," Kaiky interjected, appearing from the shadows.
"You're not here to 'exorcise' me, are you?" Jeremiah quipped, mimicking air quotes.
"No, not at all. But it's wiser to stay on Micah's good side rather than his bad," Kaiky grinned, his expression playful.
"Oh…"
"So, a fire-based retribution—we seem to make a fine pair. I'm fortunate enough to have received a grace from one of the archangels of the Four Main Families," Kaiky declared.
"Main Families?" Jeremiah echoed, curiosity piqued.
"Yes. After the worlds separated and humanity became vulnerable to their assailants, four priests petitioned Yahweh for a means to fight back. In His mercy, He granted them the graces of the four archangels, leading to the formation of the Four Exorcist Churches: Ecclesiastical Commander Daniel Uriel at Saint Agnes Basilica, Commander Kevin Gabriel at Saint Cecilia Sanctuary, Commander Jayna Raphael at Saint Clare Chapel, and the might
iest of them all—Jamiel Michael, Jerome's elder brother, at the Capital Church."
"So, how do you intend to help me?" Jeremiah pressed.
"I will teach you to harness my grace. When an angel bestows its grace upon multiple exorcists, the power dilutes the more it spreads. Thus, it's more advantageous for some to seek a regular angel's grace. However, an archangel's grace is exponentially stronger. If chosen, one cannot refuse. But there is a workaround."
"How?" Jeremiah raised an eyebrow, impatience creeping in.
"Commander Daniel wields ninety percent of Uriel's grace, leaving ten percent for others. You must make your grace unique." Blue flames danced around Kaiky's body as he spoke. "I've learned to manipulate the temperature of my flames, allowing me to do this." He condensed the fire into a small ball, the size of a golf ball, before flicking it towards a distant statue. Upon impact, the flame expanded, obliterating the statue in a brilliant conflagration.
Jeremiah's eyes widened in awe. "That's incredible… good God," he chuckled, disbelief etched on his features.
"Oh, it was nothing," Kaiky replied, feigning modesty.
Jeremiah arched an eyebrow. "Why are you blushing?"
"Nothing," Kaiky stammered, wiping the laughter from his eyes. "For you to be impressed by my least technique means you have much to learn."
"You call that 'least'? If I could do that, I'd be as powerful as Micah."
Kaiky erupted into laughter.
"Why are you laughing?" Jeremiah asked, bewildered.
"Wait, wait… let me catch my breath," he gasped between chuckles. "Micah is not the one you should aspire to emulate. Yes, he is strong, hailed as the mightiest exorcist in the country, but there are monsters far stronger—like the Prelate and the Commander. Those are the levels of power to fear, Jeremiah Mason," Kaiky's tone shifted, becoming grave. "A devil is not welcome in the Exorcist Churches. Even the Prelate's son was cast aside. I knew Master Israel from my time at the orphanage. I will teach you everything I know. You seem like a good kid, so I'll help you, but know this—I would not hesitate to send you to hell, no matter how powerful you become," he stated as he turned to walk back towards the church.
"Kid? I'm older than you," Jeremiah muttered under his breath.
"I'm going to rescue your friend. Learn to separate your flames from your body and condense them by the time I return."
"Wait, what? Just that? Hey, come back!" Jeremiah called after him, frustration mingling with determination.
Kaiky waved casually, his figure retreating into the distance.
Jeremiah grunted, his resolve hardening. "At least I have a goal. I'll become strong enough to earn respect—just you wait," he vowed, a confident smile lighting his face.