Chapter LXVII: Commoda Mihi Veres
The battle rages on in the ruined old chapel, a place once sacred, now turned into a battleground of light and darkness.
Liz's eyes blaze with determination as she raises the Century Sword, its golden glow humming in her grip. Ivan stands before her, his figure cloaked in shadows, holding a jagged blade born from the blackest void.
Their swords meet in a blinding clash of holy radiance and cursed darkness.
Sparks fly as steel collides, illuminating the misty air.
"You'll never win, Ivan!" Liz shouts. "You think you've claimed him—but Bennett was never yours to begin with! He belongs to God!"
Ivan chuckles darkly, "Then let God save him now!"
Their swords crash again, Liz gritting her teeth as she holds back the immense pressure. Meanwhile, Adrian twirls his flaming incense staff in the center of the chapel. A fiery ring surrounds him, burning away the shadow creatures that try to close in. The incense smoke swirls like a cyclone, forming a divine barrier.
Wyn moves in rhythm, dashing between columns and splashing holy water on every creeping shade. "In Jesus' name, begone!" she cries, her voice echoing with faith.
As Liz and Ivan continue their swordplay, Liz suddenly backflips into a corner of the chapel, evading a swift strike. Her boots skid across the cracked tiles. Ivan raises his hand—and from the shadows behind him, long, inky tentacles whip through the air.
"Run, little light!" Ivan sneers. "Run while you can!"
But Liz isn't done. With a battle cry, she launches into a mid-air spin, slicing the shadowy tentacles before they reach her. Each slice emits a holy flash, momentarily blinding the chapel in bursts of light.
The air thickens with a dark fog.
Suddenly, a sound of footsteps—marching, synchronized—cuts through the battle haze.
Out of the fog step the officers of the Servants of the Altar. But something's wrong.
Their eyes glow red, their skin eerily shadowed and lifeless.
"Ivan!" Adrian shouts, "What did you do to them?!"
Ivan, standing atop the altar platform, raises his arms like a conductor. "Pawns of order, now puppets of chaos. Handle the guests, my dear servants!"
The possessed officers lurch forward, targeting Adrian and Wyn.
"Liz, watch out!" Wyn screams—but it's too late.
Liz squints through the fog, searching for Ivan. She tightens her grip on the sword, her breath steady. The fog is too thick.
Then—
CRACK!
A blinding thunderbolt crashes down from the rafters and strikes Liz.
"LIZ!" Adrian and Wyn scream simultaneously.
Her body convulses mid-air, electricity coursing through her, before she falls hard onto the chapel floor. The Century Sword slips from her hand, clattering beside her.
Adrian tries to rush to her side, but the officers block him, their hands raised, their mouths murmuring in dark tongues.
Wyn steps beside him, gripping her hollow rod. "We'll get to her," she whispers fiercely. "We just have to hold on."
Lightning flashes again, illuminating Ivan's twisted grin.
"I'll be with you in a minute again young rebel", he says as he walks away.
Darkness clouds the chapel as Liz lies unconscious, her body still, motionless. But in her spirit, she awakens.
She finds herself standing alone in the spiritual realm of the chapel. The once-desecrated place now glows in eerie twilight, ethereal and surreal. Before her, at the altar, slithers a massive, shadowy silhouette of an anaconda-like figure. Its eyes glow red, and its hiss echoes through the void, sending shivers down her spine.
"Liz," a soft voice calls from behind.
She turns around quickly. It's Bennett.
Clad in the same kamiseta de chino worn by the statue of St. Lorenzo Ruiz, his eyes are gentle, his presence serene.
"Bennett!" she gasps, rushing into his arms.
Tears stream down her face as she hugs him tightly. "It all seems so hopeless… I feel like I've already lost."
He embraces her gently. "No, Liz. There is hope."
He cups her cheek and looks into her eyes. "Do not be afraid of the devil. That's what they want — your fear. The more you fear, the more they consume you. But God is with you. Always. Be not afraid."
Liz wipes her tears. "Can I do it, Bennett?"
He nods with a smile. "Yes, you can."
Then, a blinding light fills the room.
Descending from above, magnificent and radiant, is an Angel clad in armor of divine gold. In his hand, a flaming sword glows with righteous power. It is St. Michael the Archangel.
He lands before Liz and gently offers her the sword.
"You are not alone," he says. "This battle is not just of flesh, but of spirit. Wield this sword of the heavens."
As Liz grips the handle of the flaming sword, she feels warmth, strength, and peace flow through her veins.
Suddenly, all around her, she sees familiar faces — saints, glowing in divine light — the same saints Bennett had always prayed to: St. Therese, St. Padre Pio, St. Paul, St. Augustine, St. Ildephonse, St. Jude, St. Vincent Ferrer, St. John Paul II, and many more, standing behind her with blessing hands.
Bennett steps forward once more. "For my final puzzle and instruction for you, my love…"
He gently places a hand over her heart. "Break the chapel key. Something within it will unleash the beast behind the walls. Then, pour the liquid inside upon the statue… and I'll take care of the rest."
He smiles through misty eyes. "May the Lord be with you always."
The spiritual light flashes, and Liz gasps—
—She awakens.
Back in the real world, the chaos of battle surrounds Adrian and Wyn, who are backed into a corner by the corrupted officers. Ivan stands above them, laughing sinisterly.
"You were all nothing to begin with," Ivan mocks. "Just fools playing heroes in a game already lost."
Suddenly…
A radiant glow erupts from the back of the chapel.
Ivan stops laughing.
He turns, eyes wide in disbelief.
From the light steps Liz.
She stands tall, eyes glowing, her hair lifted slightly by an unseen force. In her hand is the flaming century sword, burning with divine fire.
She begins to speak—her voice strong, unwavering:
"I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.
I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father; through him all things were made.
For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven, and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried, and rose again on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.
He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified, who has spoken through the prophets."
As she utters these words, the century sword in her hand bursts into a blazing flame, engulfed by holy fire. The power surges through the chapel, pushing back the darkness.
Adrian and Wyn shield their eyes, amazed by the miracle unfolding before them.
Ivan stumbles backward, trembling, his jaw clenched.
"What… what are you?" he growls.
Liz opens her eyes, full of light. "I...am an Altar Server. No, a server, a server to the one true God. Like my love before me!"
And with that, she steps forward, ready for the final battle.