Villain Ch 1677. Reliquary Vault [Part 2]
The air felt heavier here—like it hadn't been breathed for centuries. The walls were lined with dark oil paintings, each more cursed than the last. Images of martyrdom. Saints bound in barbed wire halos. Angels weeping tears of gold while their wings were burnt mid-air. One recurring figure appeared in every canvas, always looming at the center: an armored priest-king with outstretched hands, holding chains.
Chains that bound a pale girl to a cracked stone altar, her eyes wide, pleading. The detail was too good. Too real. Too... intentional.
Allen's jaw flexed. The artistry wasn't just disturbing—it was specific. It wasn't art. It was memory. Ritual. Obsession painted into permanence.
"What is that?" he asked, his voice low.
Larissa stepped up beside him, her crimson eyes scanning the murals. She didn't blink.
She tilted her head. "Looks like a mystery."
"Maybe this place quest," she muttered.
