The battle raged on fiercely, with sparks flying and the roars of the Great Simian echoing so loudly that even the townspeople far away could hear them. Marshal Ipsilas attacked relentlessly, while the soldiers around him kept their distance to avoid being caught in the increasingly intense fight.
The Great Simian, with its massive body, moved faster and faster, constantly adapting to counter Ipsilas, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the battle. Great Simians were indeed dangerous monsters, evolving continuously to match their opponents or environment. But now, something strange was evident in the monster’s eyes. The Great Simian—the king of the forest—had never faced a creature that could defeat it. Yet now, fear shone in its eyes, as if it were fighting something far more dangerous than anything it had ever encountered.
Blue flames erupted from Ipsilas’s body, and his attacks grew faster and stronger. Meanwhile, the Great Simian struggled to keep up, panic evident in its movements. This was the power of Essence, something only those with extraordinary martial prowess could achieve—transcending human limits. Only those who had received divine revelation or broken through the Great Wall could wield Essence like Ipsilas.
No one truly knew what Essence was. Some said it was a sixth sense, others claimed it was the power of the soul, while the church declared it a blessing from God. However, these explanations came from those who either lacked Essence or were mere observers. Those who had awakened their Essence could only say one thing when asked what it was:
“Essence is Life.”
A mysterious and enigmatic statement that people still debated to this day.
Ipsilas continued his relentless assault, his speed so great that the wind around him swirled like a tornado, spreading across the forest. The soldiers could only stare in awe at the battle. What Ipsilas was doing was terrifying, yet beautiful—something difficult to put into words and could only be felt.
“Lycoris Radiata.”
Ipsilas’s attack formed what looked like a beautiful blue flower, with hundreds of slashes at its center and dozens of precise thrusts surrounding the deadly strikes. The Great Simian tried to block the attack, but Ipsilas’s blade pierced its diamond-hard skin. Hot green blood gushed from the Great Simian’s body, splattering onto nearby trees, which instantly melted and withered. The soldiers kept their distance, some even suffering burns from the monster’s blood.
“Is this all you can do, King of the Forest? Don’t make me laugh. You’re just a pathetic little pest.”
The Great Simian attacked Ipsilas in a rage, but its efforts were futile. Like a delicate butterfly, Ipsilas effortlessly dodged every deadly strike. Ipsilas felt invigorated; it had been so long since he had fought one-on-one that he didn’t want the battle to end so soon. He would savor every single second of this moment while he could because, for the first time in years, he felt truly alive.
“COME ON! EVOLVE AND GROW STRONGER! WE’RE NOT DONE YET!”
The Great Simian’s attacks grew faster, but Ipsilas’s expression turned flat, as if annoyed by what he saw. He stopped moving, and the Great Simian seized the opportunity to strike with all its might. However, Ipsilas blocked the attack with just one hand.
“It seems continuous evolution is just a lie. To evolve, you must sacrifice something within yourself. Now your attacks are fast, but... they lack any power.”
The Great Simian’s arms had shrunk to match Ipsilas’s speed, but in doing so, it had lost the muscle needed to deliver powerful strikes.
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In an instant, Ipsilas appeared in front of the Great Simian’s face, moving so fast it seemed like teleportation. The monster’s expression was one of sheer terror. The creature before it was far stronger than itself—stronger than anything it had ever faced. The Great Simian tried to push Ipsilas away, but green blood sprayed again. This time, both its arms were severed.
“You disappoint me.”
The Great Simian tried to run, but suddenly, its world spun, and it fell to the ground, seeing its headless body collapse. Ipsilas walked over to the monster’s head, using his Essence flames to burn it instantly.
Ipsilas sheathed his rapier and walked away without saying a word, leaving the soldiers staring at each other in awe and disbelief. Suddenly, the Great Simian’s severed head began to scream endlessly, its cries echoing for an hour. The soldiers, too afraid to approach, kept their distance, terrified that the same fate might befall them.
*
The Aap Stampede in the Sullar Forest was finally over. Forty villagers had died, and the rest were injured. Parma Village was now empty, with the survivors relocated to Soldier Village. Aid in the form of food and supplies arrived from the city of Isildus, along with workers to clean up and retrieve bodies from the forest under military escort.
The sound of weeping filled the village. Some homes stood empty after entire families were wiped out, leaving only memories. Distant relatives of the victims began arriving as news of the Stampede spread earlier that day.
In Sebastian’s home, Apollonia slept beside Edward, who was wrapped in bandages. Sebastian, meanwhile, sat in his room, watching the sorrowful scene outside. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Apollonia rushed to open it. Pastor Daniel stood there with his characteristic smile.
“Good evening, Pastor Daniel.”
“Good evening, Apollonia. May I come in?”
“Of course. Please, sit.”
Pastor Daniel leaned back in his chair as Apollonia brought him a cup of warm water and placed it on the table. Pastor Daniel glanced around the house before finally looking at Apollonia.
“How is Edward?”
“He’s doing well now. Father Vincent said he’ll recover fully in a month.”
“That’s good to hear. May God bless him with a speedy recovery.”
“Thank you.”
Pastor Daniel noticed a pair of eyes peeking from behind a door. He gestured for Sebastian to come out and invited him to sit across from him.
“I came here tonight for this child.”
“Sebastian? What about Sebastian?”
Sebastian placed his left hand on the table, revealing the church symbol on the back of his hand. Apollonia looked at it curiously; she had never seen that symbol before, even though she knew her son’s body inside and out.
“Stigmata. Your son, Sebastian, has Stigmata.”
“Stigmata? What’s that?”
“A holy symbol of the church. Those who bear Stigmata are said to have a destiny given by God. They are saints, living symbols of the church itself.”
“That’s a good thing, right? If Sebastian is a Saint, doesn’t that mean he’s protected by God?”
“In a way, yes. But there’s something I need to discuss with you, Apollonia. Listen carefully, and make sure to tell Edward when he recovers.”
Pastor Daniel placed a letter on the table. “Those blessed with Stigmata are called Saints. Saints have duties and obligations to the Latinum Diocese... They will take your child away, Apollonia. Whether you agree or not, they won’t care.”
Apollonia stood up abruptly, pulling Sebastian toward his room without a word.
“I won’t report this to the church until Sebastian turns twelve.”
Apollonia stopped in her tracks.
“This letter will be sent when Sebastian is twelve—seven years from now. By rights, I should take him to Latinum now, but I’m thinking of you and Edward. How could I take your only child away at a time like this? I’m still human, with feelings.”
“And that’s supposed to be good news?! You want to take my child away! Twelve years old?! He’s still a child! How could I let him go at that age?!”
“The Diocese will try to take him by any means necessary. By hiding Sebastian’s identity, I’ve already committed heresy. Do you know the punishment for a heretic?”
Pastor Daniel stood up. “I’m sorry to bring this up at such a difficult time, but it had to be said. Seven years, Apollonia. Tell Edward when he recovers. Good night.”
Pastor Daniel left, leaving Apollonia crying as she hugged Sebastian. Sebastian sat in silence, processing Pastor Daniel’s words. God had called his name, and though he had seven years left, he wasn’t sure if he could bear to leave his parents at such a young age. Something stirred inside Sebastian’s heart—something he had never felt before. Would he really leave his parents at the tender age of twelve? Or could he reject the calling and go on with his life, as the Angel of Death had said he could?
Sebastian stood in silence, wondering what he should do. What future lay before him? Then he hugged his mother tightly, as if he would never let her go.