The Black Cross

After a few days, when yet another bunch of cities and towns had been attacked by the Black Nightmare Army, panic and fear was already surfacing within the Church.

"Where on earth are they hiding?"

The bishop stood in the quiet room of St. Peter's Cathedral. His face was worn out, with eyes sunken deeper than before. The disappearance of the Black Nightmare Army had always caused them enough grief, and during this period of time, they had searched every location they could think of, but to no avail. Instead, right under their eyes, various places in the kingdom were being attacked. It was basically as though the enemy was laughing at their helplessness.

At this, he was unable to even muster up the feeling of anger; there was only dumbfoundedness in him.

How could it be?