The trial begins
Father Raphael bowed respectfully in front of the statue, completing his final prayer.
His movements were filled with reverence and solemnity, as if this final ritual held significant meaning.
After finishing, he slowly stood up and turned to face the tense situation. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos outside.
His voice carried a hint of regret, as if he had long foreseen this moment.
"You shouldn't have come."
Eugene stood not far away, his expression dark, his eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a barely contained fury and restraint.
His hands clenched into fists as wind magic swirled around him, ready to explode at any moment. His gaze remained locked on Father Raphael's face, as if harboring a long-buried emotion.
"But I still came."
Eugene replied in a low voice, his tone laced with simmering anger.
"Why must we live in this rundown place?"
Eugene's emotions seemed to finally erupt, his voice growing sharp and filled with rage, his face twisted into a snarl.
"Why do we give food to those beggars for free?
The gifts from the rich—why do we reject them?
We could have lived so much better! You know this!"
Father Raphael's gaze remained tranquil as he stood with his hands behind his back, looking at Eugene with understanding, as though seeing straight into his heart.
He sighed softly and responded calmly.
"Eugene, our mission is not for ourselves, but for those who need help the most.
The gifts from the rich may be abundant, but they bring not the grace of God, but greed and temptation.
We choose to reject those temptations so that our eyes may remain unclouded."
Eugene's right hand suddenly shot up, and a powerful force of wind magic surged in his palm.
The wind element swirled in his hand, and the air began to hum with vibrations, as if the next moment would erupt with overwhelming energy.
His gaze was filled with anger, his eyes locked on Father Raphael, as if issuing a final ultimatum.
"You're just a stubborn man, incapable of adapting!"
Eugene's voice had become hoarse and sharp from his rage, as though these words had been suppressed for far too long, finally bursting out uncontrollably.
The wind magic in Eugene's hand grew even stronger, the gusts howling around him, tearing at the edges of his robe.
The atmosphere inside the church became oppressive and tense, as if a storm was about to descend.
Father Raphael's gaze remained calm, without a trace of fear or anger, as if the immense magical power before him held no sway over him.
"I understand the anger in your heart. But change cannot come at the cost of faith."
"That's enough!"
That sentence seemed to ignite the fury Eugene had long suppressed. He lost control entirely.
The power in his hand could no longer be restrained, and the whirlwind surged toward Father Raphael like an enraged dragon
The air pressure spiked suddenly, the wind roared, and the entire church seemed to tremble with the force of the storm.
Borne, standing nearby, was completely unprepared.
The gusts hit him like an invisible wall, sending him flying to the ground.
He lost his balance instantly, crashing onto the stone floor of the church, his ears filled with the roaring wind.
Struggling to rise, he found himself pinned down by the sheer force of the gale, almost unable to move.
Father Raphael, however, stood where he was, hands behind his back, unmoved by the storm directed at him.
His old robe billowed violently in the wind, as if it might be torn apart at any moment, but his stance remained as firm as a rock.
The windstorm tore at his figure, but his expression remained serenely unchanged.
Seeing that Father Raphael remained unharmed, Eugene's fury burned even hotter.
The ten men behind Eugene no longer hesitated, each beginning to channel their own magic.
The air filled with rapidly gathering magical energy, the atmosphere inside the church growing even more tense and oppressive.
Magic surged, and each man summoned his most powerful abilities.
The ten figures surrounding Eugene wore long black robes that trailed on the ground, fluttering slightly in the gusting wind.
Their faces were hidden beneath the shadows of their hoods, almost entirely obscured except for occasional glimpses of their chins or mouths.
They formed a semicircle, like an invisible wall, enclosing the entire church.
Flames blazed fiercely inside the church, red light flickering across every inch of the crumbling walls, the air thick with heat.
The ground began to tremble slightly, and huge chunks of stone rose from the floor, floating in the air around the mages, ready to strike with deadly force.
A cold chill crept through the air, moisture condensing into countless sharp ice blades, their gleaming edges aimed at Father Raphael, poised to strike at any moment.
At the same time, purple lightning crackled wildly throughout the church, electric arcs dancing in the air, buzzing ominously as the entire space filled with the oppressive weight of the storm.
A massive water dragon, formed from swirling water elements, coiled in the air above the church, its enormous head fixated on Father Raphael, as if prepared to devour him at any second.
In that instant, Father Raphael was surrounded by the elemental forces of wind, fire, earth, ice, lightning, and water.
The entire church had become a swirling vortex of impending destruction.
Magical energies intertwined in the air, as if on the verge of triggering a cataclysmic eruption.
Even in the face of such overwhelming magical pressure, Father Raphael's expression remained calm.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his face unshaken, as though all the violence and chaos around him could not disturb his inner peace.
Borne, meanwhile, struggled to his feet, his body trembling from the aftermath of the storm, his heart filled with unease and tension.
The magical energy surging around him made it hard to breathe, and he realized the situation had reached its most dangerous point.
Eugene's fury had reached its peak, his face twisted in a grotesque expression of rage.
He extended his left hand, once again summoning the power of wind magic.
As the fierce wind magic gathered with both of Eugene's hands, a more violent hurricane formed, ravaging through the church, roaring directly at Father Raphael.
"Die!" Eugene bellowed, unleashing the wind magic from both hands. The powerful storm surged forward like a wild, untamed beast, aiming directly for Father Raphael.
At the same time, the ten mages standing behind Eugene acted without hesitation, launching their respective spells.
Fire, ice blades, lightning, boulders, and the water dragon—all the elemental forces erupted simultaneously.
In an instant, the church turned into a whirlwind of magical energy.
Massive stones rained down from above, the ground trembled violently, and Borne stood frozen, his eyes locked on the massive boulder hurtling toward him.
His reflection caught in the speeding stone, his heartbeat seemed to stop in that moment.
Instinctively, he wanted to dodge, but found his body paralyzed by the overwhelming force. He couldn't move.
With a thunderous roar, the old church finally gave way under the magical onslaught.
It collapsed with a deafening crash.
Debris and dust filled the air, fragments of the structure scattered everywhere.
The dust engulfed the entire church, instantly cloaking everything in a thick cloud of debris.
For a brief moment, it felt as if the entire world fell into silence.
The once-old church was now nothing but rubble, only the sound of falling stones echoing in the distance, mingling with the dust swirling in the wind.
The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and destruction, as if all the magical energy had vanished into the remains of the collapsed structure.
Eugene and his ten companions quickly retreated, standing outside the ruins, their eyes fixed on the rubble in silence.
The shattered church now resembled a tombstone, a stark reminder of the destructive power of their magic.
"It's over..."
One of the black-robed figures muttered in a low voice, his tone filled with a suppressed sense of relief, as if trying to convince himself that it was truly done.
All threats had seemingly been eliminated, and Father Raphael must have been buried beneath the rubble, no longer able to pose a threat to them.
However, Eugene did not relax; his face remained tense and filled with doubt.
His gaze remained fixed on the ruins, filled with unease and suspicion.
Even though everyone believed Father Raphael had been destroyed, Eugene sensed an unsettling presence lingering in the air.
"No... it's not over yet," Eugene muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed.
He had never believed the Father Raphae would die so easily, especially without offering any resistance.
Father Raphael's calmness and composure made Eugene more convinced that this was far from over.
The eleven of them stared at the rubble, as if time itself had frozen.
Five minutes passed, and still, there was no movement from the ruins.
The dust in the air slowly settled, but it seemed as though Father Raphael and Borne had truly disappeared beneath the debris.
The black-robed figures gradually relaxed, exchanging glances as if confirming that all threats had been neutralized.
"It seems it's really over," one of the black-robed figures murmured, his voice tinged with relief.
But Eugene continued to frown, the doubt in his heart still lingering.
He couldn't believe that the priest had died so easily, but the silence before him left him uncertain.
Just as they were about to make one final check, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed faintly in the distance.
Eugene's ears twitched, and he quickly identified the source of the sound—patrolmen!
Their actions had already caught the attention of the patrol, who were now rushing toward the church.
"Someone's coming—the patrol," Eugene said quietly, a note of urgency in his voice.
The other black-robed figures also heard the approaching footsteps, their expressions tensing as they exchanged looks.
They were clearly not in a position to confront the patrol directly, especially after causing such a commotion.
"We need to leave immediately," Eugene ordered decisively.
In the next moment!