At the end, only the rats remained, their small bodies slick with blood as they roamed the iron enclosure, satisfied and sated.

The floor of the structure looked like a pool of crimson, with the rats almost swimming in the blood, some splashing as they writhed and gnawed on the last scraps of flesh.

A complete silence settled over the square, the weight of the scene too heavy for anyone to speak.

Aiden took in the crowd’s reactions, a subtle, satisfied smile playing on his lips. He raised his voice, breaking the silence.

“This has been an example of the goddesses’ will,” he declared.

“Anyone who dares act against the Empire will face this fate. Let this serve as a warning to all those who harbor hidden intentions against those blessed by the goddesses!”

A wave of cheers erupted from the crowd, hesitant at first, as shock still lingered.

But Aiden’s commanding tone seemed to fuel a sense of justice, and they soon shouted in agreement, the memory of their anger rekindling their voices.

Meanwhile, Serena clutched her stomach, pressing a trembling hand over her mouth as she struggled to keep from vomiting.

The horror of what she’d just witnessed, the sheer brutality of it all, was far beyond anything she could have imagined.

Every sight, every sound replayed vividly in her mind, each one making her stomach twist.

Aiden stepped down from the platform, moving past Serena.

Without looking back, he spoke in a low voice, just for her to hear.

“You’ll have to get used to this. It’s only the beginning.”

Serena cast a quick glance his way, her expression unreadable.

She was at a loss for words, too focused on keeping her composure, the urge to retch still strong.

They both climbed into the carriage, leaving the scene behind them as they rode back to the mansion in silence.

Serena sat still, her mind racing, her hands trembling slightly in her lap.

No matter how she tried to shake off the memories, the images of the night clung to her mind like a shadow.

That night, as Serena lay in her bed, sleep offered no comfort.

Horrific visions haunted her dreams, twisted and dark, as the screams and images of the execution replayed over and over, echoing through her mind.

The night dragged on without peace, her nightmares leaving her sleepless until the first light of dawn.

Hidden among the crowd.

Abraham’s heart pounded painfully as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

His wide, trembling eyes watched the grotesque spectacle, horror filling him with each passing moment.

The familiar faces of his friends—the very men he had spoken to not long ago—now lay mutilated and broken, their families dragged off to lives of slavery with fates unknown.

He could barely breathe. His hands shook uncontrollably, his mind reeling at the frenzy of the crowd around him.

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As cheers erupted, Abraham felt a nauseating sense of wrongness.

The grins and shouts of the people, once neighbors he had known, seemed dark and twisted, like masks concealing something sinister.

This wasn’t justice; it felt like a nightmare spun from the darkest corners of his mind.

He looked up to where Aiden stood, tall and unwavering on the stage, his face etched with a smile of satisfaction.

But to Abraham, Aiden’s figure loomed like that of a demon—no human could do something like this and look so pleased.

He shuddered, the hairs on the back of his neck rising in dread. Only a demon could disguise such cruelty in the guise of righteousness, invoking the goddesses’ names to justify these horrors.

But the goddesses he knew were merciful, forgiving. There was no mercy here.

A wave of panic seized him, and he suddenly felt the urge to flee, to get as far from Aiden as he could.

His breathing grew erratic as the crowd closed in around him, and his feet stumbled forward, desperate to escape.

“I need to leave. I shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, his voice shaking.

“Watch where you’re going!” someone snapped, their elbow digging into his side.

“Hey! Stop pushing, old man!” another jeered, scowling.

But Abraham barely heard them. He pulled his hood over his head, hunched over as he slipped out of the throng, his chest tight with fear.

All he could think about was getting away from that monstrous figure on the stage.

His heart raced as he slipped into the shadows, nearly tripping as he hurried away, every nerve screaming for him to hide.

Clutching his shaking hands, he muttered to himself.

“Aiden… he’s not the boy I knew. He’s turned into something… something monstrous.”

He could hardly process what he’d seen, and the cold dread gnawed at him, threatening to overwhelm him.

His only hope was that Aiden wouldn’t remember him, that he wouldn’t look for him, wouldn’t consider him a loose end to tie up.

And with that desperate hope, he found himself praying—praying that he would remain invisible in Aiden’s eyes, praying that this nightmare wouldn’t come for him next.

Far in the capital.

Behind the grand cathedral dedicated to the goddess of purity, Lumina, stood the headquarters of the central church.

The opulent chambers within housed the high clergy, and among them resided one of the most revered figures—the Saint of Purity herself.

In a lavish bed surrounded by soft drapes, a woman with striking blonde hair lay in restless slumber.

Her hair was straight, cascading down to her waist like a river of gold, framing her delicate features with an ethereal glow.

Even in her sleep, there was an undeniable aura about her, a radiance that seemed to purify the very air around her.

Her name was Celine, chosen by the goddess Lumina when she was but a humble orphan, and since then, she had served as a vessel of purity for all who sought solace and hope.

Celine’s body was graceful and elegant, with soft curves that filled out her figure tastefully.

Yet, there was something about her presence that deflected any impure thoughts—an aura so pure and untainted that it commanded respect, elevating her beauty to something almost divine.

She wore a simple nightgown as she tossed and turned, her face marked by a rare frown.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fought against the dark visions that plagued her dreams.

Suddenly, she awoke, gasping, her hand clutching her chest as her heart raced painfully, each beat throbbing with an intensity that bordered on anguish.

She sat up, breathing heavily, her usually serene expression replaced with one of lingering dread.

“What… was that?” she whispered, pressing her hand against her chest as if to calm the frantic rhythm of her heart.

A sensation of fear and desperation lingered within her—a feeling she hadn’t known in years, not since she became so close to the goddess.

She turned her gaze to the window, the first light of dawn barely illuminating the world beyond. “Goddess Lumina,” she murmured softly, “what does this mean?”

Her voice was filled with uncertainty, a rare crack in the steadfast resolve she was known for.

Just then, a gentle knock sounded at the door, breaking the quiet of the room.

“Saint, I apologize for disturbing you,” a soft voice called. “But we must begin preparations for the ceremony in a few weeks. Your presence would bring great joy to everyone working tirelessly for it.”

Celine composed herself, a bright smile crossing her lips—a smile that could warm even the coldest heart.

Rising from her bed, she replied, “Of course, Melissa. Thank you for waking me.”

She quickly slipped into her ceremonial attire.

The gown was radiant, befitting her role as the Saint of Purity, a garment of pure white with intricate silver embroidery that gleamed softly in the light.

Flowing sleeves and a delicate high collar lent it an almost angelic appearance, while a long, layered skirt fell to the floor, gracefully swaying with each step she took.

She fastened a light veil over her head, which cascaded down her back, lending an additional sense of sanctity to her figure.

Dressed like this, she looked like the very embodiment of purity, a beacon of hope for those who sought divine guidance.

As she stepped out of her room, she took a deep breath, letting her serene composure settle over her once more.

But somewhere, deep within her mind, the shadow of that dream lingered, haunting her with a feeling she couldn’t quite shake.