Chapter 11

“Under the pure sacred flame, all beings are equal; there shall be no more sin or impurity.”

These were the words spoken during the prayer gathering before the patrol.

Yet, when the golden firelight flared to life, a surge of restlessness and displeasure, seemingly etched into her very genes, welled up within Iris.

—She only wished to see that flame extinguished.

The young man hung on the execution platform bore vicious scars, not fatal but enough to inflict unbearable pain and humiliation.

As the fireball approached, he instinctively tilted his head back, trembling and struggling, emitting a rough, beast-like growl from his throat. His desperate plea for survival was met with scornful laughter from the onlookers below. Iris heard someone mutter, “This is all that a heretic amounts to.”

Amid the crowd’s rising clamor for execution, Iris clenched the hand hidden within her sleeve, careful not to betray the slightest sign of unease.

At that moment, a shadow leapt down heavily from the bell tower, crashing in front of the execution platform.

A thunderous roar of dust erupted, obscuring the view beyond the dais. She could only make out several flickering shadows darting about, followed by the exaggerated sounds of slicing and impact.

The sudden chaos stirred unrest among the spectators.

“What’s happening? Are heretics coming to rescue someone?!”

“God! Will these demons harm us?!”

“Run! Be careful, these crazed fiends might use our blood for their dark rituals!”

Pushed by the crowd, Iris was driven outward, eyes wide as she stared at the high platform, palms sweating.

Was it the companions of the captured man coming to save him?

Where were the church officials nearby?

Before the crowd could react further, another black figure descended from the side, joining the fray.

Clad in a cloak with their face entirely concealed, a dark shadow wrapped around their body like a spear sweeping aside the crowd. The once exuberant masses now screamed wildly, scrambling to clear a path. Like panicked sheep, they scattered chaotically, some injured by the indiscriminate attacks, clutching bleeding wounds and calling out for aid.

The shadowy folk hanging on the platform’s rail transformed into a rope, allowing the dark denizen to slide down safely, carrying their rescued comrade.

Under their cover, they hooked their shadow onto the eaves of a nearby building, and the two leapt into a side alley to change position.

At that moment, another figure appeared from the opposite side of the bell tower, providing cover for their escape.

“He’s heading that way!”

The clerical squad had already flanked from another direction, commanding their members into action.

Still shaken, Iris watched from behind a thin barrier of people as this well-trained squad pursued their prey. As the white-clad figures passed before her, she forced herself to steady her rapidly beating heart.

Just as the grim reapers’ cloaks vanished from her sight, Bella and Leyton, previously pushed to the edge, called everyone to gather.

“It’s time for us to move,” Bella said, clapping her hands.

...Damn it.

Iris cursed inwardly.

Before leaving, Leyton had said their routine patrol squads were also to “fully support” the church’s work as a show of goodwill, though such occasions were rare.

Yet, fate had dealt her this unlikely event.

Bella gestured for everyone to come closer.

Once they gathered, she whispered, “...When it comes to supporting the church, just say the words. You all put on a show so the church thinks we’re trying, but don’t really confront those desperados head-on, got it?”

Before she finished, Leyton placed his hands on Iris and Jane’s heads, warning, “Especially you two newcomers, this isn’t the time to be heroes. Your lives come first.”

Iris exhaled with relief, replying, “Understood.”

...Thankfully, her temporary teammates were also just coasting through their duties.

“Pair up, don’t spread out too far,” Bella instructed. “There are three heretics trying to kidnap someone, one dragging a helpless burden. The danger isn’t too high, but don’t underestimate them. Avoid frontal clashes. Priority is relaying information and running. Now, ready your weapons.”

---

A less experienced young man in the squad asked, “Why can’t we fight head-on?”

Bella sighed. “...No one knows what other tricks those heretics have. Don’t bet on them not going all out. They’re desperate, but we’re not.”

Dutiful as a guide, Bella looked toward Iris again, silently reinforcing the warning.

“...I’m not foolish enough for that,” Iris replied, forcing a relaxed shrug.

Jane and a curly-haired youth were paired with Iris.

The less experienced trio was assigned to an old street nearest the church, while the others scouted outward.

That old street had once served as the church’s peripheral warehouse and office, now abandoned, only occasionally visited by vagrants seeking shelter.

Anyone fleeing for their life wouldn’t head near the church anyway.

“There shouldn’t be any shadow folk here,” Jane said as she edged along the wall.

The curly-haired youth chuckled at Jane’s timid demeanor. “What are you afraid of? This is the church’s outskirts. Even if those guys aren’t the brightest, they wouldn’t charge straight into gunfire.”

“That’s for the best...” Jane whispered. “I’ve heard they’re a bunch of crazed killers who attack on sight.”

“Hahaha, this street’s abandoned. There won’t be anyone here. I don’t think they’d come here,” the youth said, brandishing his long staff. He clearly hadn’t absorbed Bella and Leyton’s earlier warnings.

“We’re not defenseless lambs. If I meet one... it’ll be my time to shine!”

Iris stayed silent.

Even after calming from the immediate threat of being hunted as church prey, she sensed something deeply off.

Is an execution really like this?

Could it really be as easy and successful as in the dramas?

On one side stood the church, wielding immense power and deep-rooted influence over the continent; on the other, the shadow folk—hunted relentlessly, forced into hiding.

The two sides were poles apart.

From the church’s perspective, tasked with upholding its image and dignity, they would never allow such a public failure in punishing heretics.

Unless they were scheming something far greater.

Iris darkly mused: perhaps they intended to use this dark denizen as bait, to lure out the hidden shadow folk lurking in the shadows.

Would those rescuers not suspect this? Not necessarily, yet they came anyway.

Was it out of morality, friendship?

...Or perhaps they too had their own designs?

The trio proceeded cautiously, nearing the street’s end.

Jane and the curly-haired youth took the flanks; Iris watched the rear, forming a triangular stance.

“We’re close to the street’s boundary. Watch for blind spots,” Iris warned.

Jane was first to confirm safety. “All clear.”

The curly-haired youth peered into a side alley; seeing no one, he looked at his companions with relief.

“See? Nothing here. I told you they’d fled long ago—”

Suddenly, the harsh sound of flesh being pierced rang out, warm blood splattering onto Iris’s cheek.

A sharp black shadow blade had impaled the youth’s right shoulder. His grip twitched before loosening the staff, which clattered to the ground.

Hearing the noise, Jane turned, only to see his comrade flung like a lifeless carcass, crashing onto the attic of a distant house.

The attacker emerged from the alley, clad in a robe that concealed their entire body, save for a restless shadow swirling beside them, seeking the next victim.

Iris withdrew swiftly, noticing Jane’s wide-eyed terror, frozen and unable to react.

“Run!” she shouted.

---

Only then did Jane snap out of it, scrambling toward her.

The attacker blocked their path to the church; they had no choice but to flee in the opposite direction.

Running with their backs to the enemy unsettled Iris, but she noticed the assailant moving slowly, unsteady, almost stumbling.

Was the attacker injured?

“Where do we go?!” Jane asked in panic.

Iris quickly decided, “West. Find the others.”

Jane swallowed nervously, glancing back. “...He seems slow. We might escape...”

Before he could finish, a loud crash sounded.

The attacker propelled themselves along the wall using their shadow spikes, rapidly closing the distance, reaching them in mere breaths.

The dark figure crossed Iris’s line of sight, blocking their path again.

Iris darted into a house on the left, Jane following, hurriedly trying to shut the door.

But it was futile; the shadow pierced through the door as Jane closed it, nearly pinning him.

The shadow began to bore through the door, intent on breaking in.

No time for explanation, Iris acted swiftly: she found a window leading to another street, leapt through, and cast a spell to send a distress signal.

Jane scrambled behind, but lagged. The enraged shadow grabbed him, hurling him into a corner.

Iris escaped into another alley.

Realizing all her teammates were down, a chill ran down her neck, yet her heart burned fiercely, almost scorching her chest.

The attacker no longer moved sluggishly. Their shadow expanded grotesquely, taking on a spider-like form with many legs, clawing into the walls on either side of the alley.

Iris’s vision darkened above her; she leapt back, casting a slicking spell at her feet.

The ferocious creature stumbled, losing its footing. Iris immediately cast a binding spell, but the silver ropes shattered in less than a second.

The disparity was too great; such magic was useless.

Enraged, the attacker’s shadow, once stable, burst open like a porcupine preparing to launch.

Iris retreated, opening distance, alternating between firing magic missiles and fire spells.

Each was blocked by the attacker’s shadow shield, deflecting into flashes of light.

She tried to slip back inside a building for cover, but the foe anticipated her move, dropping some defenses to thrust the shadow spear directly at her.

Iris dodged the immediate strike, but another barbed shadow spike pierced her right leg from below.

Off balance, she was slammed against a doorframe behind her.

Her dagger was flung outside by the shadow’s force.

Suddenly, the attacker clutched their head, groaning in pain, their shadow thrashing wildly, attacking indiscriminately.

Iris had no time to understand this. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she scrambled up, evading the chaotic shadow strikes, trying to flee.

Unarmed now, she had to be careful.

As she attempted to jump into another room, the attacker regained control.

More aggressive shadow spikes split into several long barbs; Iris found herself with nowhere to dodge.

Though the attacker had spared her two comrades before, there was no guarantee they retained such restraint now.

Iris summoned her shadow demon swiftly, forming a shield.

The charging shadow spikes hissed as they struck the shield, deflected away.

The remaining spikes veered aside, piercing the room’s wooden walls.

Dust billowed in the neglected room, choking Iris slightly.

The attacker’s gaze fixed on the shadow shield before her.

Their movements paused; after a few seconds, the shadow slowly withdrew.

...Iris sensed the attacker was assessing her.