The Truth

The Archbishop lay weakly on the ground, struggling painfully to catch his breath. The bright crimson blood that was gushing out from the black hole on his right chest dyed his white priest robe red, even the red carpet on the ground turned darker. Still, he did not die immediately, that old man was trembling trying to cast Theurgy on himself, attempting to stay alive for a little while longer.

After all, the heart that was being dug out was not his original heart. His own heart on the left was still beating but it was turning weaker as time passed. Yet, it was giving its all, trying to pump and do its best. It was not that the Archbishop wanted to continue to live on, in fact he had long made up his mind to give his life up today, but the main reason he was holding on was to find out why his disciple would do something like that.

Just then, chantings that he did not understand that came from the direction of an empty bench, suddenly filled the room.