Two years later, near a village of the peninsula's forever winter, a camp of thirteen white, pointy tents stood, each marked with a flag bearing a blue crescent moon.
Inside the thirteenth tent, at the center of the camp, twenty-four humans gathered around a round table. They wore thick, full-length cloaks, with white fur framing their faces—casting shadows that concealed their identities. Each cloak was pinned with a crescent moon; on the back, a blue crescent moon was engraved into the white fabric with shoulder padding made out of silver.
Twenty-three men, who silently listened to the upcoming commander's commands, looked to the left at the one with bluish fur around his face. He was the commander of their company.
He unleashed a dagger from underneath his cloak and drove it into the table. "We, the honorable Company of the Church of Scientia—this mission will decide your fate within our ranks. If you succeed in wiping them out, you will all be promoted."
"No one inside can leave alive. Not even one. Our Lunargent Council has decided they cannot live any longer. They are of great danger."
"Do any of you even read why we are here?" the commander asked.
He was met with silence. The looks from his soldiers were no longer focused on him, but on the floor.
"Sigh. I see. So I am the only one who read it." He fell back into the tall, throne-like chair behind him, resting his head on his hand while judging his people.
"Let me enlighten you, O people who aren't interested at all in promotion."
"Listen to me, and I won't repeat myself again," he said, raising his deep voice.
"Those people are worshippers of those evil demi-god who lived a thousand years ago. Our church has forbidden their practice, as well as the other two."
"But unfortunately for them, they have not adhered to our restrictions. Therefore, they will face the judgment of our goddess, who bestowed upon us the authority to judge them."
"Their attempts to resurrect the damnated demi-god should never—and will never—be tolerated so long as we exist."
He stopped for a second thinking over if he should continue but he came to the conclusion that he needs to as he gritted his teeth.
"The pain they have exalted upon the people of this world has been tremendous."
"We cannot allow our people of the continent, inhabitants of this world, to suffer anymore from their wrath."
"This is utterly unacceptable. Their practice is to be forever forgotten."
"We are to adhere to the law and wipe them out of the world, and spare the world any possibility of pain in the future. Is that understandable to your mind?" the commander asked.
"Yes!" the soldiers yelled in agreement simultaneously.
"I see. Through this mission, I will judge if promotion will be granted. Work hard, and it will. Work lazily, and it won't. It all depends on your will. I ask thee to understand. Go sleep. We are to commence our assault tomorrow evening. Yes?"
"Y-yes!" the soldiers agreed.
"Disperse to your lodgings."
As the commander commanded, the soldiers listened and filed out in a formation of two, shoulder to shoulder, toward their respective tents.
The commander sighed as he relaxed in his chair. He looked at the ceiling of the tent, held up by wooden poles, and thought
Let tomorrow be bountiful for our company… Let those evil worshippers die in peace, O Goddess Selitharia…
And so the commander made a four-pointed crescent moon shape by tapping on his chest four times.
…Please spare them from their suffering tomorrow, as they most likely do not know what they are doing. They are doing what their ancestors did without questioning—truly commendable. I truly pray so, Goddess. Please forgive them, and spare them from their pain.
The commander made the same crescent moon shape on his chest as he closed his eyes, sighing and muttering aloud, "I pray, Goddess. Consider my request…"
***
As the soldiers slowly returned from the meeting, they chatted along the way.
"The Commander really is old-fashioned in his language. He speaks so ceremoniously, can't you believe it?" the soldier to the left, named Varr, said.
"Haha! Yes, he speaks like my grandfather. I was so stressed during it. I need this promotion, and I'd do anything to have it—but still, couldn't he cut us some slack?" the one to the right, named Eyra, answered.
"I was as well. Couldn't focus on his words due to the ridiculous speech he made. Everyone had read the information note, but we were too stressed and the atmosphere was too dense to answer him."
"Ah, and yeah—you want this promotion for your wife? Isn't she in the seventh month?" Varr asked.
"Fortunately, she is! I am so ecstatic to come back to her. Her long black hair, shiny blue eyes are just too endearing! You saw her, didn't you? She's just too adorable. With this promotion, I'd be able to feed them and give them a comfortable life," Eyra said.
"Yeah, I wish I had a wife like her. No—any wife would do, you know? Coming home after shift is lonely…" Varr said, pushing the covers to his tent open and walking in.
Eyra followed behind while speaking. "Indeed, you need to go to that bar in the capital. There I found my wife—maybe you'd get your luck there! Haha!"
"I wish… sigh, I wish…"
***
The doors to the shrine of the village opened wide as the newly appointed priestess, Cineris, walked in.
She wore a light blue dress with a slit up the middle for easy movement, engraved with white snowflakes across her chest, back, and the back of her legs.
Close behind her was her grandmother, the previous priestess. She and all the kneeling participants lining the red carpet—which led to the shrine's inner door—wore thick brown coats.
Behind the priestess, four people in the same coats followed, carrying the beasts they had caught this year in cages.
With a smile on her face and a new glimmer in her eyes, Cineris vowed to resurrect her lady, Winni, and welcome her once again.