Paladins in white and blue heavy armor moved through the village, their eyes barely visible through their visors, dragging mangled corpses across the dirt without so much as a flinch. No revulsion. Just the mechanical efficiency of men who had done this a hundred times before.

Standing apart from them, bracing himself against the cold wind blowing in from the ocean, was Light. The salt stung his nostrils with every breath — sharp and pungent, almost enough to make him sneeze — but he kept his expression blank. Watching.

Even though he was wincing, the darkness and the smell in the air had less to do with it than the… twisted young woman beside him. Faith kept humming a sacred church hymn, tapping her feet to the rhythm, swaying slightly as if she were at a festival rather than surrounded by the dead.

Light's jaw tightened.

One should stay silent in the face of such a scene. Heavy in the heart. That was the proper response. While it was true that those who rejected the path of light were undeserving of salvation, death still lingered with a bitter taste nonetheless.

If people would just accept the light that begged to illuminate their lives… if they would stop embracing darkness, unjustified violence, lust in all its forms… there would be no such killings. No bodies dragged through the mud. No pyres. The arrogance of the faithless, their stubborn refusal to see — watching so many die because of it made his heart heavy in ways he couldn't fully express.

No sane person would hum through this.

And worse still… the hymns were not meant to be danced to.

Light shook his head, chasing away the thoughts.

'Why do I even bother… I'll just get the criminal and never cross paths with any of them again. All of them. I'm never coming to this branch again in my life.'

Ahead, Mercy and Judgment were speaking with some of the Holy Light Paladins who had marched into this village and slaughtered every last inhabitant. The bodies—what remained of them—were being gathered at a pyre to be burned with holy flames.

This was the Lord of Light's final act of mercy. Even if one's soul was condemned, at least the body would be cleansed by blessed fire.

Not buried in the earth for things to feed upon.

Mercy and Judgment finally turned and headed toward him, Faith still spinning her hands around and swaying as if she were mentally crafting some twisted fairytale of her own.

As Mercy reached Light, she looked at him plainly. No emotion in her eyes.

He returned the gesture.

"They were tracked east," she said. "The Paladins believe they left after killing some bandits who were holding heathens captive."

"Typical for a heretic," Judgment added with a smirk. "I'm glad we aren't losing our sense of morality, really."

"Oh?" Faith paused her swaying. "Does that mean he's strong?"

Judgment glanced at her sister.

"No, Faith. It means the bandits were weak. And what do you expect from local thugs who think they're worthy of the Light's guidance to purgatory?"

Light looked at the silver-white-haired girl with an especially cold light in his eyes.

She raised her chin slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"What? You have something to say, Inquisitor?"

Mercy glanced at Light, who closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose.

'Harbor not hatred in thy heart. For Love is only of the Light. I am of the Light, hence I am capable of Love and Love alone.'

The liturgy helped. Barely.

He looked past them, toward the eastern edge of the village.

"If they went east, then the only place he could've taken refuge is Mishard."

Mercy's gaze dropped slightly. "Mishard, huh."

"Then are we going to kill the people of Mishard too?" Faith asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity. Her pale blue eyes lit up. "I think it'll be fun. Hearing heathens scream as we bless them and end their suffering is a noble thing to do. We should absolutely kill them all."

Light could feel his ear twitch as she opened her mouth and uttered the deranged nonsense she was conjuring in that hollow head of hers.

He fought to keep his expression neutral, reminding himself that the sooner they caught the Heretic, the sooner he could be rid of these people and go about his own business.

He exhaled.

But before he could respond and explain the situation, Mercy's voice cut through with surgical precision.

"Attacking Mishard would bring too many repercussions. We'd make trouble for the Cardinal and the church's presence in this branch."

Faith tilted her head, curious.

"Why?"

"Mishard is under Thornwood Duchy, sister. Did you never learn these things?" Judgment's brows furrowed, her voice flat with disdain. "What were you doing in class when we were at the academy?"

'Probably daydreaming about unnecessary slaughter.'

Light kept his face neutral.

Faith looked like she'd just been scolded for being slow. This was the first time Light had seen anything actually get to her since they'd started this miserable assignment together.

Mercy spoke flatly, clearing the air with a single stroke of her voice.

"If we kill the people in Mishard, one of the five Dukes in this kingdom — a very troublesome one — might have reason to rise against the Church. At such a sensitive period, we cannot afford to make things difficult for Cardinal Theresa. Do you understand?"

Faith nodded, finally smiling as understanding settled over her features. The small tension in the air lifted.

Only for her to say: "So we're going to kill the Duke?"

Judgment sighed.

Light had never felt such a powerful urge to burst out laughing. His face was getting slightly red from the effort of maintaining his composure, his jaw aching from being clenched so tight.

'Lord of Light, grant me patience. Because if you grant me strength, I will strangle this girl.'

Mercy answered her sister with no show of emotion, just as plain as she'd been since the very beginning.

"No, Faith. We're not going to kill the Duke. We're not going to kill anyone we weren't asked to kill."

Faith tilted her head. There was something twisted and lost swimming in those pale blue eyes.

"Isn't that disobedience? The Cardinal said to kill anyone who interferes with the capture."

Light finally scoffed.

The two sisters — Judgment and Mercy — turned to look at him with an almost startling synchronization.

Judgment wore a subtle grimace. Mercy's expression remained blank.

"None of you can kill a Duke," Light said, his voice cool. "That's way above your pay grade. The armies you'd have to cut through, the personal guards…" He looked directly at Faith, letting the cold pragmatism of his words carry the insult. "You're better off hunting F-rank heretics than you are killing a Duke. You would all die before you ever laid eyes on him."

He turned away, facing east.

"We'll set a perimeter around Mishard. The heretic's final destination can't be Mishard itself — if he went there, he's probably heading to Faeren, looking to leave the kingdom by sea. If we're lucky, he's already left for Faeren and we can intercept him on the road. If not, we set a discreet perimeter around Mishard and wait."

He looked at all three of them.

"Either way, this place is working quite hard to disgust me." He started walking. "I'm leaving."

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