Chapter 51 : Fake Purification Ritual
The bells of Saint Caelin's Cathedral rang louder than usual that morning—shrill, ceremonial, and slightly off-key. Elias winced from across the cobbled town square as the tolling echoed through his head like a judgment.
"Why do all religious bells sound like someone dropped a tin pan down the stairs?" he muttered.
Rhea, beside him, was squinting at the distant church with the same expression she used when confronted by steamed vegetables. "I smell incense and hypocrisy," she said flatly.
"You're not wrong."
The town's mood was unusually tense. Flyers had appeared overnight—printed, blessed, and magically sealed in self-unfurling scrolls—all declaring a grand Purification Ritual to protect the town from 'unseen corruption' and 'dark residue left by recent magical anomalies.'
They didn't name names.
They didn't have to.
"They mean me," Rhea said bluntly, arms crossed, standing all of three-foot-eight with the gravitas of a dethroned apocalypse queen trapped in the body of a child.
"Yes," Elias admitted, tugging at his collar. "But let's pretend we don't know that, in case anyone's listening."
As if on cue, a flock of white-robed clerics swept into the square, chanting in measured cadence. The Inquisitor—freshly arrived from the Capital—led them, an imposing woman with platinum hair, three earrings that glowed holy blue, and a staff topped with a symbol that always looked like it was judging you.
Elias had dealt with worse.