It was as if the solemn chorus of a cathedral's choir began to echo in the air—yet beneath the surface of that sacred harmony, there was a shadow. A dark, foreboding presence seemed to descend, cloaking the room in an oppressive atmosphere.
"Mr. Riggs!" Adel was the first to react. He quickly lowered his head and bent at the waist, showing deep respect.
The other four hybrids, who had been on edge, relaxed slightly at Adel's gesture. The tension visibly melted from their postures.
Seeing this, Adam smiled. Calm and collected, he stepped forward into the room. It was as if an invisible force parted the crowd before him—each hybrid instinctively stepping aside, clearing a path.
Adam walked straight to a chair, sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and placed a hand lightly on his mask. In that instant, he seemed to become the undisputed ruler of the room—so much so that one might feel the urge to kneel before him.
"You've probably already heard about the Tears of God ritual," Adam said, his voice low and raspy. "I need you to handle a few tasks for me."
"At your command, Mr. Riggs," the hybrids said after exchanging quick glances.
"Relax—it's nothing difficult. I simply need you to gather some items for me," Adam replied softly. "If you do well, I might even host the Tears of God ritual for you ahead of schedule."
"A vial of consecrated holy water... monkshood from the cliffside... common human clothing... carcasses of different beasts... soil from both the highest and lowest points of the city..."
He listed the items slowly. Some were genuinely required for the ritual, while others were simply there to complicate things—Adam's way of amplifying the ceremony's mystique.
With a calm yet commanding tone, he instructed the hybrids on what to collect.
"As for you, Adel..." Adam turned to the blood thrall, who was still bowing low. After a moment of thought, he said, "At noon, I want you to look directly into the sun and collect your tears in a vial."
"Yes, Mr. Riggs!" Adel replied, his face lighting up with joy.
The others had various items to gather, but this one task belonged to him alone. And judging from the name "Tears of God," it wasn't hard for Adel to guess—he was the one chosen to undergo the ritual next.
The Tears of God ritual wasn't one that relied on extraordinary power. At its core, it was divine in nature—a miracle born from channeling godly authority.
The first stage of the ritual focused on repentance.
Tears of repentance. The Beasts—those ancient races—may not have needed gods, but when the gods left them, they suffered greatly. That was their sin. The Second Son, who disobeyed the warnings of the Shepherd and descended into the Abyss, brought calamity upon the world. That was his sin.
So, whether Beast or Second Son, to earn divine mercy, one must first repent.
As the hybrids left to fulfill their tasks, Adam didn't relax. He remained seated, eyes closed, calmly adjusting his mindset.
If Adel's part of the ritual succeeded, the entire group would become fiercely loyal. From there, Adam planned to assign them more and more tasks, drawing them deeper into the pursuit of the Tears of God. The more they invested—emotionally, spiritually, materially—the deeper they'd fall into his orbit.
Eventually, they'd become his most loyal followers, helping him recruit more hybrids and acquire even greater resources from the others.
"This way, the hierarchy among the summoned hybrids will begin to take shape," Adam thought, analyzing their traits, searching for any gaps in his strategy.
"Jin? Adel mentioned inviting him," Adam recalled.
"Would a hybrid really pass up an opportunity to perfectly conceal their identity?" Adam didn't think so. Every hybrid living in the Holy Hymn Nation would be intrigued by the Tears of God ritual—even those who had other means of hiding their nature.
The real danger, then, lay with those who were interested but didn't accept Adel's invitation. These were the ones outside Adam's manufactured hierarchy. Until he had true control over the majority, such individuals would be the biggest threat—likely aiming straight for the man behind the ritual: Adam himself.
"I need to be especially cautious when meeting with Adel and the others. Can't afford to let anyone trace him back to me," Adam noted mentally, then set the concern aside for now.
Outside, Adel was already staring directly at the sun.
According to divine scripture, after the gods departed, their endless radiance rained down upon the world, cleansing the Beasts.
Most practitioners believed the gods served as the world's protective barrier, shielding it from the overwhelming brilliance that could destroy it. From this idea, the Sky God was born—a divine avatar who split the sun, moon, and stars apart to prevent them from appearing all at once.
Another belief claimed that the God had become the sun itself, leading to the rise of the Solar Deity.
And when the churches devoted to the Sky God and the Solar God began to clash violently, a third doctrine emerged:
"God is perfection—but divine perfection is not human perfection. God embodies both good and evil, creation and destruction. God is the Whole."
In this view, the Beasts drove away the benevolent aspect of God—but the wrathful part remained, punishing them.
Naturally, most churches saw this as heresy. After all, their teachings were founded on the belief that God was pure, loving, and inherently good.
There was also the Originalist Church, who claimed that God's greatness transcended morality altogether.
The Tears of God ritual seemed to draw power from all three theological schools—sun, sky, and moral duality—not just one divine aspect.
And so, in the first phase of the ritual, the object of repentance was the Solar God. Staring into the sun symbolized a willingness to atone. The tears shed were sacred—tears of true repentance.
The holy water served merely as a conduit, a divine primer. If Adam were truly a practitioner, if he possessed divine power himself, the holy water wouldn't even be necessary.
Then there was the monkshood from the cliff. Aconite, also known as wolfsbane, was said to be deeply tied to werewolves. Its potent toxicity made it a common ingredient in both alchemical potions and dark rituals.
There was an old saying: Even a pure-hearted soul who prays nightly may still transform under the full moon when the monkshood blooms.
Adam knew that some people intentionally became werewolves to extend their lifespan. The ritual for such transformation was hidden in that very saying.
Vampires and werewolves were closely linked—and so were blood thralls. Thus, aconite was a necessary component in this ritual as well.
The human clothing and animal corpses were largely symbolic.
But the soil—from the highest and lowest points of the city—that was crucial for locating the Tears of God.
Divine scripture claimed the Demon Spirit lured the Second Son to the city's most prosperous place, where the Tears of God had become a sacred lake. Soil from the highest place symbolized prosperity, while soil from the lowest represented the lakebed.
Adam tapped his mask rhythmically with his fingers. Through it, he could almost feel the old scar on his cheek begin to throb.
He'd suffered plenty to craft this ritual.
Thinking about it now, those hybrids were lucky. They got to participate in the ceremony so easily, without enduring what he had.
Memories surged back. Adam forced himself to remain calm, to refocus.
"Trace your ancestors. Unearth the past. Awaken your true potential." Adam recalled the signs of bloodline awakening. "Is that what's happening to me now?"
"I've been slipping into memories more easily… and my ability to connect with others—has it grown stronger?"
He lowered his legs and stepped toward the window, watching as Adel stared unflinchingly into the sun. Focusing on the scene helped steady his thoughts.
"Still feels surreal—seeing a blood thrall look directly at the sun. Guess those old vampire myths don't apply in this world."
He had known that already, but witnessing it firsthand was still strange.
In this world, vampires were the byproduct of magical experiments on werewolves. Their vulnerabilities mirrored those of werewolves: not sunlight, but silver.
And with a prize dangled before them, the hybrids moved with astonishing speed. One by one, they returned with the items Adam had requested.
The ritual was ready to begin.