In a forest some distance from the estate, a group of soldiers—clearly trained and well-armed—waited in silence.

"Sir, it seems there was no conflict between your father and the Gómez family," said one of the men, an Italian mercenary. He had been hired by Ezequiel and brought to New Granada with the assistance of Father Esteban, who supported his endeavors.

Ezequiel exhaled slowly."It seems we have no other choice. For God, and for the future of the theocracy, I may be forced to kill my grandfather—just as Jephthah was willing to sacrifice his daughter to fulfill his vow to God. I am willing to do the same, if Your name and Your voice reach this place and grant me victory."

The men behind him crossed themselves and prepared their weapons. Once the cavalry and the cannon of the Gómez family withdrew from the area, they advanced and opened fire on Aurelio's estate. The servants reacted swiftly, but it was clear that the religious army was stronger and better organized during the assault.

Inside the estate, Aurelio was startled by the sudden gunfire."What is happening?" he demanded. "Did the Gómez family return to attack us? Have they broken the agreement?"

The servant beside him shook his head, equally confused. Moments later, a young servant burst into the hall, his arm bleeding from a gunshot wound, panic written across his face.

"Sir, another army has attacked from the side," he said breathlessly. "They waited until the cavalry and the cannons left before launching the raid."

Aurelio frowned."Are they servants of the Gómez family?"

The servant hesitated."I do not believe so, sir. Their training is clearly European—far more professional than the elite militias of New Granada. And also…"

The hesitation in the servant's voice made Aurelio uneasy."Speak," he ordered coldly.

The servant swallowed and continued,"One of the sentries saw Young Master Ezequiel on horseback behind the army. I believe he is attempting to seize control of the family from you, sir."

Aurelio's face went pale. His heart began to pound violently, so fast that for a moment he feared it might fail him where he stood. He drew a deep breath and asked in a trembling voice,"Are you certain?"

The servant hesitated, then nodded."Yes, sir. Those soldiers behave much like Father Esteban's followers. They make the sign of the cross every time they fire. It is a strange and unsettling sight."

Aurelio inhaled deeply and said,"Bring Amelia to me."

The servant, visibly shaken, obeyed. Moments later, a woman was led into the hall. She was no longer young—perhaps thirty-five or forty—but her beauty remained striking, and her face retained a youthful grace that many younger women lacked. Panic filled her eyes as she fell to her knees before her frail father.

"Father, what is happening?" she asked anxiously. "Are we being attacked by those brutes of the Gómez family?"

Aurelio shook his head slowly."No. It is your nephew—Ezequiel. He seeks to seize the estate. I fear what he may do once he reaches this place."

Amelia's face drained of color."Little Ezequiel is behind this?" she whispered. "I knew he was mischievous, but to rise against his own family—what is wrong with that child?"

Her words dissolved into sobs.

Seeing his daughter in such distress pierced Aurelio's heart. For the first time, he wondered how grave a failure he must have been—as a father, and as a grandfather—to provoke his son's death and allow such darkness to grow in his grandson's soul. Perhaps binding the family so closely to the Church had been a mistake from the beginning. Had Ezequiel been granted more freedom—less ritual and ceremony—perhaps he might have pursued learning, strange sciences, even traveled to Europe as Francisco Gómez had done.

That thought stung deeply.

Carlos, the so-called nouveau riche, had risen through the ambition of his son. And here Aurelio stood, facing a grandson who sought his blood. For the first time in his life, regret settled heavily upon him.

Amelia wept at his feet, her shoulders shaking. At last, she wiped her tears and spoke with sudden resolve."We must flee, Father. I know this estate has secret tunnels."

Aurelio sighed."I cannot run. If I escape, that boy will hunt me relentlessly—and he will not hesitate to harm you or your children to reach me. I will remain here and face him. Perhaps, if God shows mercy, he may yet spare me in exchange for the title."

He paused, then continued firmly,"But you must leave. Go to my study. Behind the bookshelf there is a safe—here, take the key. Inside are deeds and properties I never placed under the family name. Take them to the Gómez family. They may be the only ones willing to protect you from that wretched boy."

He pressed the key into her hand.

"Send letters to your children in Bogotá. Warn them. I have heard that Carlos Gómez has men in the capital as well. Under his protection, you may yet survive."

Amelia, seeing her father's expression, broke down completely and cried,"I am not leaving. If you are going to die, then I will die with you."

The sound of gunfire continued to echo throughout the estate. With every passing moment, Aurelio could hear more of his servants being wounded—and killed. Anxiety and despair tightened his chest. In a sudden, desperate act, he struck Amelia across the face.

"I want you to leave!" he shouted. "I have lived long enough. I can die in peace. But you still have a son and a daughter. You cannot abandon them—especially not with that vengeful, useless boy surrounded by fanatics. I will not allow you to suffer for my sake. Go. Take as many men as you can and escape through the secret tunnel. Once you reach the basement, do not hesitate."

Amelia tried to resist, still pleading to stay, but Aurelio had no strength left for arguments. He ordered two servants to seize her and carry her away by force.

At that moment, his old butler stepped forward and stood silently beside him.

Aurelio looked at the loyal servant and spoke softly,"Your son will escape with Amelia. I am sorry—this is all I can do for you, my old friend. I never imagined I would meet my end at the hands of my own blood."

The butler bowed his head respectfully."I am grateful, sir, that you let him live. He must now walk his own path. I only regret that you, my master, must suffer such a fate."

The gunfire outside began to fade, growing more sporadic. Some servants, seeing that all was lost, surrendered. Others attempted to flee. As the shots finally died out, Aurelio spoke once more.

"Before I die… please grant me one final favor."

Outside the estate, Ezequiel knelt before the chapel. In a solemn voice, he prayed,"Thank you, Lord, for Your guidance. I will fulfill my vow. I only ask that You continue to guide me and my men toward the future we envision for this vast and beautiful continent."

The soldiers behind him also prayed. Most merely made the sign of the cross, their eyes darting around uneasily, fearful that something might yet go wrong.

After several moments, Ezequiel rose and walked toward the estate.

Inside, Aurelio sat upon the patriarch's chair. His posture was weak, but his gaze remained sharp. When Ezequiel entered, Aurelio spoke in a deep, steady voice,"So, the prodigal boy comes to kill his own grandfather."

Ezequiel flinched for a moment, but quickly steadied himself."Grandfather, you have grown cowardly. The Church is weary of your refusal to offer real support against that pagan family—the ones who exploit their so-called knowledge to steal from the people, and who now dare to deceive them with that wretched learning."

Aurelio narrowed his eyes."The Church?" he asked coldly. "Or that mad fanatic, Esteban?"

Ezequiel frowned and said coldly,"Grandfather, I will not allow you to insult the noble name of Esteban. He has shown me the true love of God."

Aurelio sneered."Love?" He gestured weakly around the shattered hall. "Look at this, boy. You are killing the very people who watched you grow. Those servants raised you, protected you—some of them devoted half their lives to this family. And you dare call this the love of God? No. This is the ambition of a wretched priest who believes himself to be God."

Ezequiel roared, his voice echoing through the ruined estate."Enough! I have won. Victory itself proves that God supports us. Do not speak heresy in your final moments. If you accept my rule over the family, I swear I will spare you and protect you until your last days."

Aurelio's eyes narrowed."And your aunt? Your cousins?"

Ezequiel answered without hesitation, his tone solemn and unwavering."They will enter the Church. They will live apart from this corrupt world and dedicate their lives entirely to God."

Aurelio laughed softly, bitterly."So you would turn them into prisoners. No, boy. I will never accept that. I would rather die."

Slowly, he moved his hands behind his back and drew a pistol.

The old butler cried out in terror,"Young master—he means to kill you!"

Without thinking, the butler threw himself in front of Ezequiel.

The soldiers reacted instantly. A volley of shots rang out.

Aurelio's body was torn apart by gunfire. He fell without another word, his breath leaving him in a single, shattered gasp.

For a moment, Ezequiel stood frozen, his heart racing. Then he steadied himself and walked toward his grandfather's corpse. He made a small sign of the cross upon Aurelio's forehead.

"Bury him with proper rites," he ordered calmly. "Follow the Church's ceremony. From this day forward, I am the patriarch of the Gómez de Castro family. Inform Father Esteban that I will place all the family's resources at his disposal."

The men around him nodded and dispersed, leaving behind a ruined estate littered with bodies and shattered walls.

Ezequiel sat upon the chair where his grandfather had died. His gaze rose to the cross hanging upon the wall.

He smiled.

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