Change is happening

"What's going on?"

Father Thomas woke up in the chaos, his eyes still clouded with confusion.

Hurriedly, he scrambled out of bed, roughly shoving aside the scantily dressed woman lying across him.

The woman tumbled to the floor with a painful yelp, but Father Thomas didn't care.

Her cry seemed to vanish from his awareness as his mind raced.

Frantically, he pulled on his pants, nearly tripping over the leg of his trousers in his haste, running toward the window.

 His mind was consumed by the sudden surge of powerful and familiar magic he had just sensed.

Reaching the window, he impatiently pushed it open, letting the cool night breeze wash over his face.

In the distance, the sky flickered with blinding light, the strong magical energy piercing through the night like a beacon.

Father Thomas's face instantly darkened.

The source of this power was unmistakable—the broken-down church where Father Raphael lived.

A wave of unease surged through him, and flashes of past events flickered through his mind.

It had been he, along with several other priests, who had conspired and bribed Father Marco to have Father Raphael exiled to that remote, dilapidated church.

"This can't be…"

Father Thomas muttered to himself, his fingers gripping the window frame tightly, his eyes filled with growing dread.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The powerful light magic was unmistakably rising from where Father Raphael was.

Father Raphael had long been suppressed in that ruined place.

Father Thomas and his fellow conspirators had meticulously planned this, and they had even bribed Eugene—who had betrayed Father Raphael.

Among the eleven black-robed figures, four were Father Thomas's trusted aides.

Father Carsey had sent three of his own acolytes, and Father Phillips had dispatched another three.

Each of these individuals was a powerful mage.

Together, these eleven should have been more than enough to crush Father Raphael.

Thomas had been confident in his plan from the start.

Even if Raphael was formidable, there was no way one man could stand against such overwhelming power.

Not even Father Thomas himself could easily contend with those eleven mages.

Each of them possessed extraordinary magical expertise and extensive battle experience.

And with Eugene as an inside man, the plan seemed foolproof.

Yet now, the brilliant surge of magic tearing through the night sky shattered Thomas's confidence.

Father Raphael hadn't just survived their scheme—he had unleashed a force so powerful that it reverberated across the entire region.

"Raphael… won?"

Thomas clenched his teeth, an uncontrollable fear spreading through his heart.

He quickly ran through every detail of the plan, trying to find where things could have gone wrong.

But no matter how hard he thought, the combination of Eugene and the eleven black-robed mages had been an overwhelming force.

They couldn't have failed.

Yet the reality was undeniable: Raphael had not only survived but had emerged with a strength far beyond what Thomas had anticipated.

Perhaps even stronger than ever.

Cold sweat began to bead on Father Thomas's forehead.

He could feel the situation slipping beyond his control.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Father Marco had also been jolted awake by the sudden surge of powerful light magic.

He shot up in bed, his heart pounding, fully alert in an instant.

Without hesitation, he scrambled out of bed, rushed to the window, and stared out at the radiant glow piercing through the distance.

The radiant light in the night sky seemed to tear through the darkness, and the overwhelming magical energy, suffused with a divine aura, blanketed the entire city.

Father Marco stood by the window, feeling the immense power surging from afar, and an unprecedented sense of pressure arose in his chest.

This power… could it truly be this pure and overwhelming?

His mind raced, quickly identifying the source of the energy.

It was coming from Father Raphael's residence—the dilapidated church.

"Such strength… so formidable?"

Marco muttered to himself, his brow furrowing involuntarily.

In an instant, he analyzed the origin of the energy and confirmed his suspicion.

That overwhelmingly potent light magic was emanating from Raphael's church.

"Raphael… Rellius," Father Marco whispered, his heart heavy with unease.

That crumbling church had been assigned to Raphael deliberately by Marco, in collaboration with other clergy members.

It was meant to curtail his influence and restrict his movements.

Marco had always known that Raphael possessed considerable strength, but he never imagined this.

For Raphael to unleash such a vast, city-shaking magical force—it was beyond comprehension.

A deep sense of foreboding washed over Marco.

"Could it be that Raphael's power surpasses even mine? How is that possible?"

The thought that Raphael could have been silently amassing such immense strength right under his nose was unthinkable.

As the regional priest, Marco had always prided himself on having control over every aspect of his domain, especially the abilities and activities of his subordinates.

Yet Raphael's display of power now far exceeded any of Marco's expectations.

Standing at the window, Marco's thoughts whirled.

Could this power truly stem solely from Raphael's own abilities?

Or was there an even greater, more mysterious force backing him?

Whatever the answer, it only deepened Marco's growing sense of unease.

If Raphael's power had truly surpassed his own, the balance of power within the Southern Province might shift completely after this night.

"It seems I can no longer underestimate him," Marco muttered under his breath, a complex light flickering in his eyes.

He realized that Father Raphael had become an undeniable force.

Father Phillips stood frozen by the window, his eyes still lingering on the afterglow of the light magic.

The intensity of the shock left him unable to clear his thoughts.

The night sky was filled with torn darkness, and Raphael's name echoed in his mind.

Phillips had once thought of Raphael as just another marginalized priest, banished to that run-down church.

Like the others, Phillips had believed that Raphael was irrelevant, not someone to be feared or flattered.

But now, reality had dealt him a harsh slap in the face.

"If only I had known… if only I had tried to flatter Raphael…" he mumbled, a mix of regret and frustration churning in his chest.

Given his current standing, it was probably too late to try to align himself with Raphael.

Father Phillips understood well that power was everything.

And now he realized he had missed a great opportunity.

He should have aligned himself with Raphael before the priest revealed his true strength.

Instead, he had chosen to stand with Marco and Thomas, joining them in suppressing Raphael.

Phillips felt a growing heaviness in his heart.

Would Raphael hold a grudge against me for this?

If he decides to seek revenge, what will I do?

A cold sweat formed on his forehead, and his mind filled with anxiety and fear.

Raphael's immense light magic wasn't something any ordinary priest could counter.

And yet he had taken part in a plan to suppress such a powerful figure.

"Perhaps… there's still a chance…"

Father Phillips gritted his teeth, his mind racing for a way to make amends.

At the same time, Father Carsey was filled with regret.

He stood by his window, watching the brilliant glow in the distance, his heart roiling with turbulent emotions, like waves crashing relentlessly against his chest.

Father Carsey grabbed a fistful of his hair, nearly tearing at his scalp in frustration, his eyes brimming with regret and anxiety. He cursed himself silently.

*'I should have known better than to follow the crowd, siding with Thomas and Marco to suppress Raphael.'*

He had once believed that aligning with Marco was the safest choice.

After all, Marco controlled the entire operation in Celestoria, and no one dared challenge him.

Raphael, on the other hand, had seemed like just an ordinary priest—no background, no supporters—posing no threat at all.

But everything had changed.

Father Weiss was in no better shape. He paced his room in agitation, his hands nervously raking through his hair as he muttered curses under his breath.

He too regretted choosing the wrong side so easily.

If he had only recognized Raphael's potential sooner, he might have been Raphael's ally today, not facing him as a powerful adversary.

"Damn it!"

Weiss cursed bitterly, recalling how Raphael had always appeared aloof and unapproachable over the past few months.

That had made Weiss and the others underestimate him.

Now it was clear that Raphael's strength had far exceeded their expectations.

The sheer force of that light magic was enough to show that Raphael had escaped their control.

"We completely misjudged him," Father Carsey muttered through gritted teeth, his heart filled with remorse and shame.

They could have seen Raphael's true potential earlier and stood by his side.

But now, with Raphael's rise already inevitable, they were left to stew in anxiety and uncertainty, wondering how to deal with the changes to come.

That night, the upper echelons of Celestoria were thrown into unprecedented turmoil.

Those who wielded power and wealth quietly sent out their trusted agents to investigate Raphael's background and history.

Their hearts were filled with unease, for they had all witnessed the city-shaking magic Raphael had unleashed—a power too immense to ignore.