Hoburn City, second floor of the central building behind the Eternal Church's cathedral.
In the bedroom, Malo—eyes shut—suddenly snapped them open and lurched upright, staring toward the gray mist in shock. "Such immense power—what on earth happened?"
He reached for the bedside landline to contact the Intelligence Institute.
Only deathly silence answered; no one responded.
Smack!
Malo slammed the handset down, threw on his black robe, and hurried downstairs.
At the gate, two Holy Soldiers on night duty saw Patriarch Malo emerge and quickly asked, "Patriarch Malo, what do you need us to do?"
"Ready the Goddess Bell; wait for my return!" Malo's face was grave. With a burst of strength he vaulted tens of metres, clearing nearby buildings.
At his words, the two sentries paled.
The Goddess Bell was a special ownerless source artifact; its sole purpose was to warn of invasion and summon every nearby Holy Soldier to rally at the bell.
Night. On a high rooftop a figure flickered past, racing straight toward the gray mist.
'This mist is bizarre—spatial ripples, and it covers such a wide area!' Malo stood atop a thirty-storey building, staring grimly at the fog several kilometres away.
Seeing it, he instantly thought of the white mist in Harold's town—and that Oliver's team had also run into gray mist.
The incident was recent; its reappearance put him on high alert.
Whoosh! Malo vanished. Instead of heading into the mist, he turned back toward the cathedral.
Within seconds he was at the gate—only one guard remained.
Malo regarded him sternly. "Ring the Goddess Bell!"
"Yes, sir!" The soldier snapped to attention and sprinted inside.
Malo stood motionless, glancing at the cathedral. "Let's hope nothing goes wrong tonight."
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Three thunderous peals rolled from within, the colossal chimes carrying far across the city.
A luxurious villa in the city centre.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Oliver, reading in bed, sprang up at the sound. "The Goddess Bell—something's happened!"
He flung the window open and leapt out.
Crack! Grabbing the sill, he vaulted onto the roof in one fluid motion.
Whoosh! From the rooftop he sprang to a nearby five-storey building and raced toward the cathedral.
From the roofs he spotted the distant gray mist—and his face twisted. "Hell, how did that thing reach Hoburn City?"
He'd never forget the mist: grotesque monsters, terrifying enemies—he'd nearly died inside.
Any one of those horrors was unforgettable; together they were a nightmare.
"Looks like a bloody fight tonight. Hope the old man can handle that monster," he muttered, recalling the silver creature that had nearly killed him.
Its attacks and defenses had been a dazzling array that had left him battered and humiliated.
Meanwhile, the street housing the Holy Soldier barracks erupted into activity.
Scores of Holy Soldiers in black combat suits poured out, sprinting toward the cathedral.
"Damn, the bell again? Just my luck—back two days and already this crap!" A burly middle-aged man grumbled, a three-metre, half-metre-thick Platinum iron rod balanced across his shoulders.
Beside him, a statuesque woman said flatly, "Kofi, your faith is weak. Church business comes first—no complaints."
Kofi shot her a look of disgust. "I joined to eat. Strength's welcome anywhere—spare me the sermon."
He picked up speed, charging ahead.
Judy, the statuesque woman, sighed. "How did this guy even become a squad captain?"
Two squads had recently returned from missions—hers and Kofi's.
Two hundred Holy Soldiers, plus city and cathedral garrisons, meant at least three hundred.
Soon a sea of black-uniformed soldiers gathered at the cathedral steps, Malo waiting at the top.
Thud! A figure landed—Oliver. "Sir, it's the same mist we met—expect heavy resistance!"
Malo's eyes glinted. "So it crossed half the continent to reach us. Fine—let's remind them the Eternal Church is no pushover."
Below, Kofi shouted, "Old man, we're ready. Whoever's provoking us, I'll smash 'em!"
Malo swept a glance across the assembled troops; in an instant he tallied them.
Three hundred and forty-one. Two squads are still away, but this will do. He drew himself up.
"The Goddess Bell means a formidable foe. Some of you have seen the gray mist on your way here."
The soldiers listened in silence. In the crowd stood Klan and Quinna—last survivors of Lucas's squad—now part of the cathedral garrison.
At the mention of the mist they exchanged uneasy glances.
Malo continued, "These are the killers who wiped out Lucas's squad and maimed Oliver. They're strong—but the Eternal Church is stronger. Tonight we settle the score!"
Oliver stepped forward, fist raised. "Under the eternal goddess's blessing, we shall annihilate them!"
"For the eternal goddess—charge!" Malo roared.
Fired up, every Holy Soldier thundered back, "For the eternal goddess!"
Kofi and Judy wheeled about and led the rush toward the gray mist.
Oliver glanced at Malo. "Did you notify the higher-ups?"
Malo gave him a sidelong look. "Already done—reinforcements are en route. Hold out a little and they'll arrive."
This was Eternal Church territory; Malo intended to test whoever dared intrude.
"Good—I've got a score to settle." Oliver's eyes lit as he sprinted off.
Malo remained, waiting.
Moments later a scout arrived. "Patriarch, the Intelligence Institute was sealed; when I broke in, files and chairs were scattered—staff may have been taken!"
Malo's expression stayed calm, but his mind raced. Ever since Harold joined the Institute there'd been incident after incident—Houseman first, now the Church's eyes were gouged out. Too suspicious.
He'd tried not to doubt Harold, but the man had twice survived the mist city—Malo wondered if he'd been turned.
"Arrest Harold at once. After I handle the mist I'll interrogate him personally."
"Yes, sir!" The soldier saluted and dashed toward Harold's quarters.