Chapter 4 : Whispers of the unseen

The priest's white robes were now stained with crimson, the blood dripping from his arms and splattering onto the ground. Without any emotion, he pulled the sword from the head of the body, it's sickening squelch echoing through the silence. He smeared the insides on himself without a care, creating a gruesome pattern that marred his once pristine appearance.

Looking at his followers bodies laying on the ground without moving, he looks towards the gang and says " you guys made quite a mess."

Nazer stood there, biting his lips to suppress a nervous chuckle. "Well, that's one way to make a fashionable statement," he thought to himself, finding a strange humor in the absurdity of the situation. But deep down, he knew that he counldn't to make light of this. He knows that he is at the edges of the door of death.

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang gritted their teeth, their faces painted with mixture of determination and fear. They tightened their grip on their weapons, their knuckles turning white with their exertion. Each step the priest took towards them feel heavy, as if an invisible pressure dragging them down. But they couldn't back down now - their lives depended on it.

As they rushed towards the priest, their desperation was palpable. Their hearts pounded in their chests, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The clang of metal against metal filled the air, accompanied by guttural grunts and pained cries. The gang fought with every ounce of strength, their limbs propelled by a deep - rotted will to survive.

But the priest seemed unfazed by their onslaught. His motions were precise and swift as he parried their strokes effortlessly, his eyes gleaming with madness. Each blow from the gang seemed to lack the ferocity needed to bring him down. They watched in growing despair as their attacks were effortlessly brushed aside, their hopes fading with each passing moment.

Their desperation fueled their determination, however, as they pushed through the overwhelming odds. With their lives on the line, there was no room for hesitation. They fought with a new found tenacity, their moments fueled by desperate desire to overcome the blood covered priest standing before them.

FIVE MINUTES LATER

After the gruesome battle had concluded and five minutes had passed in an eerie silence, the room bore witness to a scene of carnage. Lifeless bodies, both of the temple's devoted followers and the members of the gang, lay strewn across the cold stone floor.

Nazer, pinned to the pillar with an arrow skewering his hand, winced in pain as he tried to free himself. Blood trickled from his wound, staining his clothes and the ground below. Despite his efforts, the arrow remained firmly embedded in his hand, rendering him powerless.

The two young women who had fought alongside the gang members now lay side by side, their eyes closed in an eternal slumber. Their dreams and aspirations had been extinguished in an instant, leaving behind an atmosphere heavy with sorrow.

The room was silent, save for the labored breaths of the wounded and the haunting memories of a battle lost. The priest, untouched by the carnage he had wrought, stood among the lifeless bodies of his followers, his robes stained with their blood.

Nazer's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the priest, who, having cleaned his sword with cold precision, now turned his gaze towards the young man pinned to the pillar.

Fear and defiance warred within Nazer as the priest began to approach him, each step echoing in the oppressive silence of the room. The air seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, and Nazer knew that his fate hung in the balance.

Seeing the priest walking towards him, Nazer says

" Hey, you said you wanted me alive remember."

The priest stops in his tracks for a moment and starts walking towards him while saying

" Yes, I remember. But I find it curious. You seemed rather unfazed by the death of you comrades."

Nazer: " Well, we are not friends or anything. We are in this together just for interests. Besides, I would rather side these people than the group the crazy fanatics in this city."

The priest's smile remained enigmatic as he reached for the sword that had pinned Nazer's hand.

" They are not crazy. They believe in the miracles of our god and you, who don't believe in faith should keep your mouth shut."

While saying, he pulls the sword struck in his arm rather violently. Nazer couldn't suppress a cry of pain and screams. The priest annoyed by him knocks him unconscious and says

" you're noisy."

THE NEXT DAY

An announcement was made by the temple that sent ripples through the city. Gathered worshippers listened with rapt attention as a high-ranking temple official, adorned in robes of divine authority, stepped forward to deliver the news.

"In a display of divine intervention," the official proclaimed, his voice resonating with unwavering conviction, "the thieves who dared to infiltrate the sacred temple grounds have been captured and duly punished by the benevolent god of heaven, Indra."

The worshippers hung on his every word, their faith reaffirmed by the supposed divine intervention. They murmured in reverence, their devotion for the temple and its deity reaching new heights.

The announcement echoed throughout the city, spreading like wildfire. News of the temple's swift justice reached every corner, and the citizens' unwavering belief in their god soared to unparalleled levels.

People flocked to the temple, offering prayers and gratitude for the divine protection they believed had shielded them from harm. The temple, bathed in an aura of sanctity, became a beacon of hope and solace for a city bound by faith.

As the citizens continued to worship with newfound fervor, the temple's authority and influence in the city reached unprecedented heights. The people had witnessed what they believed to be a divine miracle, and their unwavering devotion only served to strengthen the temple's hold on their hearts and minds.

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Within the dimly lit confines of a nondescript inn, four enigmatic figures huddled together, their faces concealed by hooded cloaks. Their whispered voices carried an air of secrecy, shrouding their intentions in a veil of mystery.

The captain, a young woman of twenty-seven with an air of authority, leaned in closer to her companions as they discussed their plans.

Person 1: "Captain, why did our leader send us to attack the temple in this small town? If we had targeted a more renowned city, our actions would have dealt a far more significant blow to their authority."

The captain, her voice low and calculated, responded with an air of confidence.

Captain: "We must tread carefully during these critical times. Making big moves now would only serve to alert them to our intentions."

Person 2: "But how can we ever truly understand what our leader is thinking? The veil of secrecy is impenetrable."

The captain's eyes gleamed with determination as she replied.

Captain: "Our leader's vision is not for us to comprehend fully. We must have faith in their wisdom."

Person 3: "So when do we launch our attack?"

The captain paused for a moment, her gaze distant as she considered the timing.

Captain: "Now that such a significant incident has transpired at the temple, there will be a surge of worshippers flocking there. It would be best to strike when the chaos subsides, and the temple's guard is lowered."

The remaining members of the group nodded silently agreeing with their leader.