Morning came pale and soundless.
The crimson rain had stopped, but the scent of iron lingered — faint, clinging to the air like a secret no one dared speak.
Cael walked along the ruined street, sword sheathed at his side. Villagers passed him with lowered eyes, their whispers soft as prayers. Wherever he went, the hymn followed — not sung aloud, but breathed through the walls, through the stones.
"The demons appeared again last night," Serah said, clutching her rosary as she caught up. "By the well this time. Three of them. The traces were gone when dawn broke."
"Then we cleanse it again," Cael replied. His tone was calm, but something beneath it trembled. "The Goddess tests our faith. We cannot fail Her."
Elior joined them near the chapel gates, his expression unreadable. "Your faith burns bright, Holy Lord. But remember — too much light can blind."
Cael frowned. "I only do Her will."
"Of course," Elior said softly. "As do we all."
The three walked toward the old well, where fog coiled thick around the stones. Cael's boots crunched over something brittle. He looked down — fragments of glass. A mirror, maybe. Or a window. His reflection stared back in shards, split into a dozen faces.
He turned away.
There were demons waiting — he could feel them before he saw them. Three shapes crouched near the well, muttering. The sound rose and fell like sobbing.
He drew his sword.
The world sharpened — too sharp.
The light bled at the edges.
"Begone, creatures of filth!" he shouted.
His voice echoed, strange and distorted.
He swung. The blade met flesh — or something that felt like it. The smell of blood came again, too real, too human. One of the "demons" raised trembling hands.
"Please— we don't—"
The words blurred. His vision flickered. For a heartbeat, he saw uniforms — not robes. A flashlight. Fear, not malice.
He blinked, and they were monsters again, writhing under divine fire.
When it was over, the fog thinned.
Serah stood pale beside him. Elior said nothing.
"Are you alright, Holy Lord?" she asked.
Cael wiped his blade, eyes distant. "The Goddess... showed me too much."
He looked at the well and saw something glinting inside — a silver badge, half-burned. He didn't recognize it, yet his chest ached.
The hymn started again, faint and beautiful.
He didn't know if it came from the villagers — or from his own head.