The [Punishment Order] was a tool feared by many who tread the path of cultivation. Created by Bishops, a realm above Priests, it sealed a miracle of [Punishment] onto a specialized piece of paper that had absorbed a at the least fifty years worth of manifested Faith.
When activated, the talisman unleashed chains that burrowed into a cultivator's soul, cutting off their access to the inner reserves of energy they had spent their lives nurturing. It effectively cripples all cultivation below the third step, reducing them to mortals with stronger bodies.
Arim struggled to lift himself back up, his face ashen as he reached into his robe and pulled out a few ampules of various potions. His mind raced, processing the reality of his situation. The chains from the [Punishment Order] had severed his connection to his Sage abilities, his grooves were useless. Emma ceased her arrow barrage, her tone questioning as she echoed Arim's words.
"A [Punishment Order]?"
Silas set his mace back into his sash and clapped, a simple half-smile playing on his lips. To their eyes, the Priest no longer saw this as a fight worth his time now that Arim was disabled.
His dismissal both irked Emma and pleased her simultaneously given that he is underestimating her. She was worried about Arim's condition after being struck by that talisman.
Arim's mind however whirred itself into overdrive. For most cultivators, the [Punishment Order] would be an instant death sentence.
But he was an Alchemist, the talisman simply forced him to return to his roots. He could no longer fight as a Sage but could still function as a Master.
He shattered one ampule between his fingers, turning his hand blurry and flicked another behind him toward Emma's legs. The liquid splashed onto her skin in between the slit of her clothing, causing her muscles to tighten and then relax as they swelled slightly, granting her increased strength.
Silas then began walking over towards them, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Scram!" Arim yelled at Emma once again.
A vein throbbed on Emma's forehead at his command. She understood the boost he'd given her—he'd enhanced her ability to run away like a coward. She instead drew her bow once again, flames manifesting upon her arms travelled across the length of the bow as she ignited another arrow.
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Lachlan sat behind his desk, his fingers massaging his bald head as he let out a weary sigh. The events of the day had been nothing short of bizarre, and the loss of his hair was the final straw. A servant entered quietly, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and a delicate porcelain cup. She approached him with a gentle smile, attempting to console him.
"Lord Magistrate," she began softly, "I'm sure your hair will grow back soon. And even if it doesn't, you are as handsome as ever."
Lachlan's hands fell to his sides as he looked at her with a deadpan expression. The servant's face flushed, thinking she had offended him.
"I apologize, my Lord!" she stammered, bowing her head.
He raised a hand to silence her, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you for your kind intentions," he said, chuckling softly. "It has been an unusual day, and such a ridiculous incident will take some time to get over."
The servant bowed again and turned to leave, her cheeks still tinged with pink. Lachlan watched her go, his mind churning with thoughts of revenge. Inside, he seethed. ''Raghh! I will rip several new orifices into the one who burnt my toupee!''
As he stewed in his thoughts, he awaited the watchman's report. He had ordered a tail on the Priest from the auction, but it was past the designated time. Lachlan assumed the watchman had found something that occupied his investigation.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, one of his guards burst into the room, panic etched across his face.
"Lord Magistrate!" the guard yelled.
Lachlan stood abruptly and rushed towards him, placing a steadying hand on the guard's shoulder. "Calm yourself and explain what has happened."
The guard took a deep breath and quickly reported, "Civilians have reported something horrendous at the Church of Rovinius. A father carrying his daughter to seek help for her nightmares found a barbaric scene within. The entire Priesthood has been butchered—none were left alive! Some bodies were mangled beyond recognition, others were strewn about as if put on display."
Lachlan's mind raced. He instantly assumed that the watchman had been discovered and that the Priest had taken action. Senior Ji's warning echoed in his thoughts—it had been right on the money.
Grabbing his saber from its stand, Lachlan's voice boomed through the castle halls as he issued orders.
"The city is to be locked down! None are to enter or leave until further notice!" His voice echoed off the stone walls.
Without another moment's hesitation, Lachlan rushed out of his office and headed towards the Church of Rovinius, determination and fury propelling him forward.
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Arim pulled out another silver needle from his robe. Emma, standing behind him, gasped in shock as Arim jabbed the needle between his ribs. Almost instantly, veins colored purple and black sprouted forth from his chest, spreading like a dark web across his skin. Arim's body seemed to swell, nearly doubling in size as the hall began to resound with an ever-accelerating beat.
The specific thumping sound was unmistakable—Arim's heart was beating so loudly it could be heard across the room. Sweat formed upon his brow, and Silas couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight.
It was quite unusual for Arim to exhibit such guts; he had always pegged him as a highly reasonable individual—in other words, a coward. However, without his ability to manipulate his energy freely, Arim could serve little more than an annoyance or a punching bag now.
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"Leave! Now!" Arim reiterated to Emma, his voice cutting through the sound of his heart.
But before either he or Emma could react, Silas vanished right before their eyes. The Guildmaster blinked in confusion, only to feel a dull ache spreading from his abdomen.
His movements slowed as he looked down and saw a second needle stabbed there. His blood ran cold, and his spine shivered as white noise filled his thoughts. The toxin injected into him was potent, paralyzing him almost instantly. However, what was more horrifying to him was the recognition he had upon seeing that needle… the very same one that carved his grooves and elevated him to the status of Sage.
Only one thought, managed to penetrate Arim's stupor as a terrible realization settled upon him: "Senior Ji." The name echoed in his mind like the toll of a clock striking the hour for the execution of a criminal.
Emma, startled by the sudden vanishing of the Priest, scanned the room frantically. To her dismay, out of the corner of her eye she saw an incoming hunk of steel swinging towards her side. She barely had time to react as she twisted her body in an attempt to dodge the attack. Alas, it struck true. Her beautiful form folded over like a crescent moon, but before the shock could settle into her or her body hit the ground, a large hand grabbed the side of her head. Silas unceremoniously slammed her down into the ground after striking her with the mace. His hand was still clenched around what was left of her face, until the moment he felt her skull crack on the destroyed floor below.
As her life was slipping from her, Silas stabbed another needle just above her ear and into the brain, letting a liquid slowly flow down into it.
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The Magistrate of Rhysling stood at the entrance of the Church of Rovinius, gripping his saber so tightly the skin on his knuckles began to crack and bleed. His eyes scanned the desecrated sanctuary, taking in the horrifying scene with a blend of rage and sorrow.
The once-sacred space had been defiled beyond recognition. Priest aspirants lay strewn about like discarded dolls, their lifeless forms twisted in grotesque positions. The Father Ilidian, head of their Church, was beheaded, his body below the statue and his head within the palm of Rovinius, a macabre parody of divine protection.
Some of his guards had to step away, overcome by nausea at the sight. The stench of death and decay filled the air, mingling with the scent of incense that still lingered from earlier prayers. Whoever had done this possessed a twisted sense of humor—or more probably no respect for life at all.
With a heavy heart, the Magistrate moved across the room, carefully picking up each fallen soul. He laid them in a line before the statue, tearing cloth from the surrounding decorations to cover their bodies. It was a small gesture, but it restored a semblance of dignity to the deceased.
He had already ordered a lockdown upon entering the Church, searching for any sign of the vile fiend responsible for this atrocity. Yet, the room where the Priest of Probitas should have been was spotless—eerily so. It was as if a maid had meticulously cleaned it, leaving no trace of its occupant.
Exiting the church, he met with Amos, the man who had discovered and reported the scene. The Lord Magistrate placed a hand on Amos's shoulder.
"Thank you for your rapid report," he said, his voice steady despite his inner turmoil. "Are you alright? That sight could disturb almost anyone."
Amos sighed deeply. "I'll manage. But my daughter... she won't be fine."
The Magistrate's eyes softened with pity as he considered his plight. "Is there anything I can do for her?"
Amos looked defeated as he spoke. "Could you erase her memory of these past few days? Too many things have happened to her in such a short time. I don't know how else to comfort her."
The Magistrate nodded solemnly. "It can be arranged," he promised.
Amos's eyes widened in shock and relief. "Thank you," he whispered.
At that moment, another guard ran up to them, breathless and frantic.
"Runaway servants from Starlight Bidders' Hall are saying someone is on a rampage inside!" he spoke.
The Magistrate released Amos's shoulder as determination filled his eyes once more.
He told his guards to head to the Merry Minstrel Lodge and inform a guest called Ji of the events transpiring.
"I will keep my word," he assured Amos before turning to rush towards Starlight Bidders' Hall.
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Arim's breath came in ragged gasps as he stood stiff like a statue in the Starlight Bidders' Hall. The paralytic coursing through his veins left him unable to turn and see Emma's crumpled form behind him, but the sickening sound of her impact and the subsequent squelch were enough to churn his stomach. He forced himself to focus on the figure that reappeared in front of him—the Priest of Probitas, or rather, Silas cloaked in the priest's guise.
Silas's low, raspy voice cut through the silence. "Impressive display, Arim. You've grown by leaps and bounds since your days under Nathaniel."
With a swift motion, Silas removed the needles embedded in Arim's body. Arim felt his enhanced form shrink back to normal proportions, collapsing onto his hands and knees as he gasped for air. Silas grabbed him by the ear and lifted him up to eye level.
"That won't do," Silas chided. "Stand up like a grown-up when you're talking."
He patted the dust off Arim's shoulders with a friendly smile. "A horrible night for the hall, huh? Who would have expected the Priest was such an insidious snake, and with skills to add to the whole mess."
Arim gulped, catching on quickly. "Yes, I have done my b-best. Yet, I was struck by the [Punishment Order] and couldn't fight at my full strength… The Priest managed to complete the goal he set out to do and disappeared."
Silas nodded approvingly before glancing over Arim's shoulder with a puzzled expression. "Your daughter? There is a vague resemblance."
Arim's shaking hand reached into his robe, pulling out the letter Emma had brought from her mother. Silas glanced at it curiously, noting the casual conversation and request for aid from Arim.
"There's a cipher," Arim explained as Silas looked it over. "Known only to me and her mother. You need to reorder certain words."
Silas, after listening on how to decipher the hidden message, read through it again and spoke aloud "Your daughter is beautiful isn't she? You old dog, I wonder if you have forgotten me… I do miss you, my father is going to attempt a breakthrough and he could use an Alchemist's help. It would give us some time to get reacquainted…"
Silas let out a laugh and smacked Arim on the shoulder with a teasing smile. "She is right! You are an old dog. The poor Heavenly Flame Sectmaster—I could almost feel bad for him!"
Arim gave a bitter nod, trying to maintain a cordial smile despite his turmoil.
Silas then grabbed him by the shoulder and twisted him around to face Emma's mutilated form. Arim began to shake as his eyes grew moist.
"Don't worry," Silas said calmly. "You used the last bit of your strength after the Priest left you for dead to place that needle coated in [Deadly Gambit]."
Arim quickly understood that Emma's life was spared for his sake, but no one should have had to endure the horror of staring at their own child snapped in half with their head shattered.
Silas turned Arim back around to face him, his expression now devoid of emotion.
"The Sect will be grateful to you." Silas continued. "They will want their heir restored to full health more so than gambling on her grandfather. You will use that leverage to mobilize them to hunt down three bunches worth of Verdant Heartseed. To dissolve the Bishop’s talisman and allow you to heal her, request them to take you to the capital and have the Archbishop of Rovinius annul it. Make sure you are there within three weeks—no sooner or later. Understood?"
Arim nodded frantically like a chicken pecking at feed.
He hesitated before asking, "Senior Ji… where on earth did you get the [Punishment Order]?"
Silas grabbed him by the nose and shook him side-to-side before speaking sternly. "Don't ask questions you know the answer to."
He then dragged Arim by the nose until they were standing over Emma’s body.
Silas offered him the mace he had been using.
Arim’s mind buzzed with confusion—was Silas going to make him do that?!
A quick smack from Silas’s hand over his head dispelled any such thoughts.
"I would never torture my friend like that," Silas said with a hint of amusement. He offered Arim the mace again. "Do you want to finish tenderizing yourself, or do you want me to do it?"
Arim stared at Silas in disbelief but took hold of the mace with trembling hands.