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Chapter 7 - Chapter 6 — The Truthblade

The air in the chapel thickened, heavy with silence.

Mira could barely breathe. The two figures faced each other — one veiled in truth, the other in lies — and the space between them trembled like a mirror about to crack.

The Divine Hunter moved first.

His sword — the Truthblade — hummed as it cut through the air, each swing tearing away illusion. Candles vanished. Shadows straightened. Even the dust dared not move.

The Fool — Lorian — slipped aside, steps light, mask gleaming faintly in the flicker of unmaking. He didn't fight in lines or arcs; he moved like laughter, unpredictable, twisting reality with every breath.

When the Truthblade struck the wall, scripture burned into the stone:

THERE IS NO LIE THAT CAN STAND BEFORE LIGHT.

Lorian's chuckle echoed softly.

"Then perhaps," his voice whispered — not from his mouth, but from everywhere — "you've never met a lie that wanted to."

The Hunter's eyes flared. He swung again, this time slicing through a dozen reflections of the Fool — each one grinning wider, each one whispering something different.

"I never lied.""You believed.""That's the same thing."

With every strike, more of the chapel peeled away — illusion falling like old skin, revealing flashes of something beneath. Not stone. Not wood.Memories.

A thousand worshipers kneeling before a throne of mirrors.A god smiling down at them, promising joy, meaning, love ——and none of it real.

The Hunter's voice shook. "You deceived creation itself!"

Lorian tilted his head, eyes glowing through the cracks of the mask.

"And it thanked me for it."

He raised his hand. The air bent like molten glass.Every mask in the city turned toward the chapel, mouths whispering in perfect unison:

"We believed."

The Hunter roared, driving the Truthblade into the floor.Light exploded — brilliant, absolute.

When the flash faded, Lorian was gone. Only the mask remained, smiling serenely where he had stood.

Mira stood frozen, tears streaking her face. The Hunter turned to her.

"He's not dead," he said quietly. "He can't die. Not while lies still live in the hearts of men."

He sheathed the sword and lifted the mask.Its painted grin seemed wider now, almost mocking.

"Wherever this mask goes," he murmured, "he follows."

But outside, in the reflection of a rain puddle, a pair of golden eyes blinked.And a soft voice whispered from nowhere:

"The truth hides best inside a believer."

The puddle rippled — and Lorian smiled from within the water, watching the Hunter walk away with his own reflection.

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