Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The underground Holy Ark was beneath the Main Cathedral.

The entrance was hidden behind the Confession Room.

When Lian brought me inside, the final prayers were being sung outside.

The voices of hundreds pressed against the stone walls.

Like a tide.

And like whispers before a judgment.

The corridor was very narrow.

Lian walked in front, holding up a lamp.

I looked at his back.

Suddenly, I remembered how many years ago, he had led me down a secret passage just like this.

Back then, I followed behind him, deliberately stepping on his shadow.

He told me to stop messing around.

I asked, “Can’t I even step on the shadow of a Saint Candidate?”

He said I could.

“Only you can step on it.”

He used to say things like that back then.

Very softly.

Very rarely.

So I remembered every single word.

There were three locks on the door to the Holy Ark.

Lian opened the first one with a key.

The second required blood.

He took out a small knife.

I held his hand down.

He looked down at me.

I said, “Use mine.”

“No need.”

“You’ve already spilled too much of other people’s blood.”

He stiffened for a moment.

I took the knife and sliced open the pad of my finger.

Blood dripped into the keyhole.

The mechanism turned.

A heavy sound echoed from within the door.

The third lock had no key.

Only an inscription.

*The honest shall see God.*

I smiled.

“Then neither of us can go in.”

Lian also smiled faintly.

He pressed his hand against the door.

“Saint Mercy Academy has never needed honest people.”

He muttered a phrase in an ancient tongue.

The door opened.

There were no holy relics inside the Holy Ark.

Only rows upon rows of files.

Names were carved onto each wooden box.

I recognized some of those names.

The heretics of past generations.

The madmen of past generations.

The people purged by the academy throughout its history.

Lian walked straight to the deepest part.

He took down a black box.

Damian.

My fingers went cold.

He opened the box.

Inside was a genuine autopsy report.

Damian didn’t commit suicide.

He died from Holy Oil burns.

Holy Oil was only kept by the Dean and the Saint Candidates.

That year, the Candidate wasn’t Lian.

It was his older brother.

Edmond.

I thought of that man who was always smiling.

I remembered how he patted Lian’s shoulder after the trial.

I remembered how pale Lian’s face was at the time, yet he didn’t pull away.

“Your brother killed him?” I asked.

Lian said, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Damian saw the red light.”

My chest tightened.

“What exactly is the red light?”

Lian took out another record.

Tucked inside the record was an old photograph.

In the photo, the Holy Lamp was shattered.

Red light rose from a crack in the ground.

Behind the crack wasn’t an evil spirit.

It was a secret room.

The walls of the secret room were covered with names.

Damian’s handwriting was on the back of the photo.

*The red light comes from the Underground Incinerator.*

*They are burning evidence from old cases.*

My throat went dry.

“Three years ago, you opened the Holy Ark to get evidence. Damian helped you. He discovered the Underground Incinerator. Your brother discovered him.”

Lian didn’t speak.

I continued, “So you asked me to testify that I hadn’t seen you. Because if I said I had, you would have been dragged into it too.”

“Yes.”

“But Damian still died.”

“Yes.”

“And you never made any of this public.”

Lian’s face was deathly pale under the lamplight.

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from outside.

Lian immediately closed the box.

But it was too late.

A figure appeared at the entrance of the Holy Ark.

The Dean, draped in a black robe, stood there holding a Silver Staff.

He wasn’t surprised to see us.

It was as if he had finally waited for two prey to walk right into his net.

“Lian,” the Dean sighed. “You still ended up taking this step.”

Lian shielded me behind him.

I looked at his back.

This time, he wasn’t pushing me toward the blade.

He was standing in front of it.

The Dean looked at me.

“Miss Evelyn, do you know why he couldn’t make it public?”

Lian’s voice darkened. “Don’t.”

The Dean smiled.

“Because the one who killed Edmond was him.”