Early in the morning, a messenger arrived at the estate carrying the report of yesterday's battle.

His urgent knocking broke the peaceful silence. Oliver and Sophia rushed out, their faces pale and tense, and hurried toward the Church.

"Ethan!" Sophia called as soon as she stepped out of the carriage. But the moment her feet touched the ground, her breath hitched.

Her eyes widened in horror.

The once beautiful Church, along with its gardens and side buildings, was gone. The place that used to be filled with prayers and laughter had turned into a wasteland of blackened earth and ashes. Dust hung in the air, mixing with the faint smell of something burnt. Workers moved around quietly, clearing broken stones and shattered wood.

Sophia's gaze darted across the ruins until she finally found him. A lone figure sat a short distance away, resting against a massive sword stabbed into the ground. His head was lowered, and his body looked drained of all strength.

"ETHAAAN!" Sophia ran toward him, her voice trembling.

The man slowly raised his dull, lifeless eyes. When Sophia reached him, she fell to her knees and examined him anxiously.

"Ethan… are you injured? Did you get hurt? Are you in pain?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Ethan didn't answer. He just shook his head weakly and pulled her into his arms. His embrace felt cold and heavy.

Oliver, standing nearby, looked at the two and sighed before shouting at the onlookers. "Hey! What are you staring at? Get back to work!"

Sophia held Ethan's trembling hands, her voice soft. "What happened?"

Ethan took a deep breath. His face was pale, his eyes empty yet filled with quiet rage. Slowly, he explained everything.

Sophia listened, her expression turning from disbelief to horror. "What? So many things happened and no one even knew it…" she whispered.

Ethan's jaw tightened. "If it were just a handful, I could accept it… but almost a hundred people fell for it. Those sickly bastards…" His voice cracked as he spat on the ground.

Sophia saw the pain etched on his face. His lips trembled, and his eyes glistened faintly with guilt.

"It's okay," she whispered, brushing his hair gently. "You're not at fault here."

Ethan let out a bitter laugh. "How can that be? If only I had built a better network, if only I worked harder… maybe I could've changed things. It's my job to protect them. They put their faith in me and what did I do?"

"Nothing!"

His voice broke near the end, and he clenched his fists tightly. His face showed nothing but exhaustion and regret.

Sophia looked at him with teary eyes and softly ran her fingers through his hair. "It's okay," she said again, trying to comfort him. "We'll learn from this. We'll strengthen our defenses and grow stronger… so there won't be a next time."

The wind howled through the ruins as dust swirled around them, carrying the faint echoes of screams that once filled this place. The world around them felt empty like even God had turned away.

.....

The carriage ride back home was quiet. Ethan leaned against the window, his reflection dull and distant. When they reached the estate, Lia and Diana were already waiting at the door. Both looked pale with worry, their eyes red from sleeplessness.

"Ethan!" Lia rushed forward, her voice trembling. "Are you alright? What happened? We heard the Church was destroyed!"

Diana stood beside her, holding back tears. "You should've taken us along. We could've helped somehow."

Sophia quickly stepped in, her tone calm but firm. "I told you both to stay here for a reason. If you had gone, who would be here to take care of him when he came back?"

Lia lowered her head, biting her lip. "We just… we were scared."

Ethan gave a faint smile, the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine," he said softly. "You did well to stay." He walked past them into the living room and sank into the chair near the fireplace. The warm glow of the fire felt comforting for a moment, yet it also made his chest heavier.

The cozy silence of home only made him remember the screams and cries of grieving families. He had fought, killed, and seen death countless times before.

The thought gnawed at his heart like rust.

Sophia quietly brought him tea and placed it beside him. He didn't touch it.

"It wasn't your fault," she said softly, sitting beside him.

Ethan stared into the fire. "That's what everyone keeps saying." He clenched his fists.

"But people died because of my mistake. I should've acted sooner."

.....

Meanwhile, in the Church branch at the Duchy of Ruthiana, Bishop Joseph sat in the grand hall, his face grim. The air inside the chamber was thick with the scent of incense, but it did little to ease the tension hanging in the room.

A few priests stood before him, their robes stained with dirt and sweat. Papers were scattered on the table, reports from nearby towns and eyewitness accounts.

One of the priests broke the silence. "Bishop Joseph, the situation is worse than we expected. The entire site of the Church in Blanks has been completely destroyed. There's no trace of the Priest or his followers."

Joseph sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "Mureno was a trusted man. To think he was behind such heresy…" He paused, his eyes filled with disappointment. "How far has the corruption spread?"

Another priest hesitated. "We don't know yet, Your Grace. But some of our branches reported strange gatherings. People are whispering about miracles… and about a 'Great One' that demands worship."

The Bishop's expression hardened. "So it's true then. The cult has taken root under our noses." He rubbed his temples and exhaled deeply.

"We're stretched too thin here. The Ruthiana branch was meant only for clerical duties, not combat. Most of our fighting forces are stationed in the Empire."

A young cleric stepped forward nervously. "Then what should we do? The townspeople are scared. They think the Church is powerless. Some even say we were part of the cult."

Joseph slammed his hand on the table. "Enough!" His voice echoed through the hall.

"We are not powerless. But we must act carefully. If panic spreads out, the cult will use it to grow stronger."

The flickering candlelight made the Bishop's face look older, tired beyond his years.

"We'll send a report to the central temple," he finally said. "Request reinforcements from the Empire. Knights, inquisitors and anyone available."

"But, Your Grace," one priest spoke cautiously, "by the time they arrive, the cult might spread even further. Should we not try to act now, even with the little strength we have?"

Joseph looked at him with weary eyes. "And lose more men in vain? No. We've already lost too many. For now, focus on the survivors. Comfort the people. Let them know the Church has nothing to do with this."

"Spread this incident so that the common people hate these cultists more."

He paused, staring at the faint light through the stained glass window. "May the Goddess bless us."

The priests bowed their heads silently.

As the meeting ended, Joseph remained seated alone. His gaze lingered on the holy cross above the altar.

He whispered under his breath, "Mureno… you fool. What have you done?"

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