The scene shifted again.
This time, the view settled over the training grounds of the church.
Late afternoon light stretched across the open courtyard, casting long shadows across stone tiles.
At the very center of the field, there was only one figure.
A young girl.
She stood alone, back straight, shoulders tense, her black hair tied tightly into a ponytail that swayed with each motion.
Her clothes hugged her frame, built for movement, and in her grip was a wooden practice sword, worn smooth from repeated use.
Pak!
Pak!
Pak!
Each strike echoed crisply as she drove the blade against a training dummy, the sound sharp.
This space, once reserved for the Holy Knight trainees, now stood quiet and abandoned.
For several days, it had been teeming with youthful energy, but now… nothing.
No one knew where those children had gone.
Off to the side, narrow stone paths weaved around the perimeter, where a few maids moved, dressed in modest church uniforms.
But as they caught sight of the girl in the courtyard, they slowed, retreating behind a column to whisper in hushed tones.
"Isn't that the girl who was rescued yesterday?"
"Yeah… the only survivor, from what I heard. Poor thing. She can't speak, they say the trauma locked her voice away."
"Such a shame. But why's she training like that? Trying to join the Holy Knights? Those other kids, weren't they just outfitted yesterday? Armor, weapons, and now they're gone."
"Shh. That was Lord Harapan's command. Still… I heard their mission isn't just to protect the church."
"You mean…?"
"Yes. Where there's light, there's always shadow. I wouldn't be surprised."
"Even before I came here, cultists had already spread like rot across the region. Especially around the nearby city. If you're not an Awakener, forget about escaping, you're a sacrifice waiting to happen."
"Savages. Cannibals. Not a shred of humanity left in them."
"They look human, but they're not anymore. Something twisted took over."
"But her? That frail-looking girl choosing this path…"
"I don't know. She's stubborn. You can see it in her eyes. Let her be, nothing we say will change her mind."
And with that, the maids scattered, returning to their chores, leaving the girl alone once again beneath the weight of silence and fading light.
She didn't stop.
Her blade continued until sweat traced lines down her face, her arms glistening, the back of her clothes soaked through.
When she finally paused, she walked over to a bench at the side and picked up a towel, wiping herself down without a word.
Then she lowered herself onto the ground beside the wall.
Knees up, arms draped over them, her gaze sank toward the floor.
Whatever thoughts stirred inside her, they stayed locked away behind quiet eyes.
Until.
"Silvana, hey."
A voice broke through the air, casual and warm, and a tall shadow cast over her.
Silvana looked up.
Her eyes lit up.
A familiar face stood before her, another girl, older, taller, with the same tied-back ponytail, though hers swung with a more confident rhythm.
She gave a slight grin, pointing toward Silvana's hands as the younger girl slowly lifted her fingers into motion.
"H-e-l-l-o," Silvana signed, a bit clumsily, but with growing confidence.
She had only started learning sign language the night before, but her hands remembered just enough.
Church healing was top-tier, whatever injuries she'd carried were gone in moments, no lingering pain, no scars.
Just the silence.
The girl in front of her knelt with ease, her presence calm beside.
"You're getting better," she said, smiling.
Her gaze flicked briefly to the training dummy, then to the worn edge of the wooden sword beside Silvana. "You've been practicing?"
Silvana nodded and signed, "Y-e-s."
The woman sat down beside her, knees pulled up and arms resting loosely. "You want to become a Holy Knight too?"
Another firm nod.
Silvana's eyes brightened a little at the question, like it meant more than words could say.
But the woman exhaled lightly and shook her head. "It'll be a while. Lord Harapan's orders, our batch has to complete a full month of testing before they even consider recruiting the next one."
"I-t-s-o-k-a-y." Silvana's gestures were small but resolute.
Waiting didn't matter.
She would, even if it took years.
They stayed like that for a while, the older girl patiently guiding Silvana through more words and signs, correcting her when needed, and always smiling gently when she got it right.
Then, without warning, the woman shifted slightly and said, "You know… my mother was like you."
She reached over, picked up the wooden sword with one hand.
It was heavier than it looked, the kind of weight that most ordinary people couldn't hold without wobbling.
She laid it to the side with a quiet thunk, adjusting her posture to lean back more comfortably against the wall.
"She was kidnapped by a noble. A spoiled young bastard who treated anyone without noble blood like entertainment."
Her voice wasn't angry.
It wasn't bitter, either. It was quiet, like retelling a story carved deep into memory.
Silvana listened, her hands folded over her lap, head tilted just slightly toward the woman's voice.
"It was hell. That's how my mother described it. She was beautiful, though, so he kept her around. Treated her better than the others, if you could call it that."
A bitter chuckle slipped out.
"Time passed, and eventually, she got pregnant."
Silvana's eyes widened a little, glancing sideways at her. The older girl caught the look and gave a quick grin.
"No, I'm not that child," she laughed, softly.
"That was my sister, my older sister. She was born inside that house, and our mother loved her like nothing else mattered"
"Even though her own body was broken, even when she had to smile through the pain every day… she lived for her."
Her voice slowed.
"But… hoping for a flower to bloom in a house made of rot is foolish, isn't it?"
She smiled at the floor, dry, tired, and almost ashamed.
"My sister grew up. She was beautiful, just like our mother. Too beautiful. A lone lily in a jungle full of thorns."
She paused, the next words scraping at her throat.
"And you know what happens to things that beautiful when they can't protect themselves. They get devoured."
She looked away, voice faltering. "By the time my mother realized… I"
She stopped herself.
Her breath caught. For a moment, she didn't speak.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed Silvana's face.
Tears.
The girl wasn't making a sound, but her eyes shimmered with emotion she didn't know how to express.
The woman stared for a second, stunned, then broke into a soft, almost surprised smile.
Without thinking, she pulled Silvana into a gentle hug, wrapping her arms around the girl's shoulders.
"I don't know why," she murmured against her, "but you remind me of her. Of my mother."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, trembling faintly as it brushed against the girl's ear.
"So please, Silvana… just promise me you'll stay safe. I'm begging you."
A breath, a single sniffle, and a warm tear slid from her cheek before she pulled away.
Then she laughed, lightly, trying to shake it off. "Ah. Right."
She wiped her eyes and leaned back, lifting her hand. "I never told you my name, did I?"
She gave a small wave. "It's Iris."
Silvana blinked, then moved her hands slowly, carefully, signing, "I-r-i-s."
A proud smile bloomed on Iris's face.
"That's right. Iris."
She reached out and tapped Silvana lightly on the shoulder.
"Let's be friends, yeah?"
They chatted a little longer. Silvana cherished every moment.
Iris's presence brought a strange comfort she hadn't felt in so long, it lingered at the edges of something almost forgotten.
Maybe it was warmth. That kind you couldn't explain, only feel.
Eventually, Iris rose to her feet.
The horizon had dimmed, the edges of the sky slowly bleeding into shades of deep red and dusk.
Shadows stretched across the floor, long and restless, moving with the light as if swayed by unseen hands.
"I'll be busy tonight… So you'll have to take care of yourself around here," Iris said gently, brushing dust from her hands.
Silvana blinked, then stood up as well.
Her movements were slow, not from hesitation, but from the quiet build-up of something she wanted to ask.
It took her a moment, but she formed the signs carefully.
Though the gestures were clumsy, Iris caught the question immediately. "Dangerous? Hmm… I'm not sure."
She shrugged, tapping her chest twice.
A dull metallic clank clank echoed in response.
"I forgot," she smirked, her tone half teasing. "You're the type who only looks at a person's face and forgets to notice what they're wearing, huh?"
She gave a small flex of her arms and legs, loosening her posture, and that's when Silvana finally noticed.
Iris had been wearing armor this whole time.
But it wasn't the bulky, knightly type with harsh lines and sharp angles.
Instead, it flowed down her body like a sculpted dress forged from silver and steel, elegant, seamless, and beautiful in a strange, warlike way.
Pat, pat.
She tapped her chest again and smiled faintly. "If there's no danger, then I'm not worthy of being called a potential holy knight."
She reached to adjust the hilt of her sword, the blade resting against her hip.
It was easily a meter and a half long, gleaming with weight.
It wasn't just the armor that made her imposing.
After her blessing ceremony, Iris had grown, taller, stronger than what her age allowed.
Yet, instead of transforming into some hulking warrior, she had become something else entirely: a towering beauty with strength hidden beneath grace.
"H-o-w l-o-n-g?"
Iris read the sign and responded while walking a few paces to get used to her gear. "All night. I'll be back early tomorrow, just one task tonight."
She paused briefly, then turned back and smiled at Silvana, eyes gleaming in the shifting twilight.
A few more words exchanged, then Iris finally stepped away, her departure unhurried.
Silvana watched her go, the silhouette growing smaller as darkness swallowed the training compound.
She stood there for a moment longer before glancing up at the open sky.
The ceiling here had long since been removed, exposing the heavens like a canvas painted in dusk and fading light.
She took a deep breath, exhaled quietly, then shook her head as if to clear it.
Her fingers wrapped around the wooden sword lying nearby, and with slow, thoughtful steps, she made her way out of the hall.
Eventually, she reached a quieter corridor, stopping beside a large window carved into the stone wall.
The glass gave a perfect view of the church's grand entrance.
Down below, a gathering of figures caught her eye, knights, dozens of them.
Clad in full armor, their frames were massive. Some stood easily at two meters, others even taller, their figures brimming with strength.
They moved, checking their gear, tightening straps, adjusting weapons.
From the window, they looked like giants. It was impossible to tell their age. No one could've guessed these were children.
Maids in modest church uniforms stepped forward, handing each knight a small leather bag, one per person.
Silvana didn't know what was inside.
Maybe provisions, maybe something else.
Whatever it was, the weight of it seemed important.
The knights lined up without a word, heads bowed for a moment of silent prayer.
No grand ceremony, no theatrics. Just stillness, then motion.
As soon as it was done, they marched out.
One by one, like shadows cast by a fading sun, they exited the church and disappeared into the streets.
The roads were nearly empty now.
Ever since the whispers of war had started, fewer people ventured outside.
Doors remained closed, windows dim, and even the ever-glowing streetlamps seemed subdued, their light barely holding back the creeping gloom.
Then, with silent precision, the holy knights scattered.
Each moved in a different direction, slipping into alleys, winding through stone-paved paths, vanishing into the maze of the town.
To clarify things, this town, under Elias's careful management, was expanding at an absurd pace.
And like anything rushed, the outskirts hadn't been properly filled in yet.
Entire blocks stood empty, buildings unfinished or unclaimed.
Hollow shells of homes, quiet streets. Perfect grounds for what was to come.
Tonight would be blood-soaked.
The first real clash between light and darkness.