# CHAPTER 3.

**The saintess stepped out slowly, the wind lifting the edges of her white veil, revealing her pale, frightened face. A thin trail of blood slid down her cheek where the dagger had grazed her skin. But she held her ground, her hands trembling at her sides.**

Alastor sat beneath the tree like a fallen angel dipped in sin — his long black hair wild, lips stained red, his blade resting lazily across his knees. His blood-red eyes locked onto hers.

“Well, well… the little dove has claws,” he drawled, voice deep and thick with amusement. “I didn’t expect the church’s precious saintess to be so... nosy.”

“I didn’t come to fight,” she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. “I came to help the wounded, the innocent.”

He laughed — a sharp, empty sound. “Innocent? No one’s innocent, little dove. Especially not in this town.”

Her fists clenched. “You slaughtered them. Men, women, elders… And for what? Power? Revenge? Entertainment?”

Alastor stood, the motion fluid but predatory, like a wolf stretching after a long hunt. Blood dripped from his coat to the grass.

“They were in my way.”

“You spared the children,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly.

His expression darkened just for a flicker. “Children grow up. One day, they’ll pick up the same swords their fathers did. But not today.”

The saintess stared at him. “Why are you still here? You had your carnage. Why linger?”

Alastor’s gaze shifted toward the horizon. For a moment, there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Some things…” he muttered, “can’t be rushed.”

Then his eyes fell back on her. “Why did you come here? Alone. Unarmed. Were you planning to pray me to death?”

She flinched but didn’t look away. “If I die today, I die serving the Lord. But I will not run.”

A low, dangerous smile tugged at his lips. He took a step forward. “Brave,” he whispered, “or foolish?”

He raised his bloodstained hand and brushed her cheek. She gasped but stood still. The gesture wasn’t tender — it was testing.

“I could end you right now,” he murmured near her ear.

“Then why don’t you?” she whispered.

The silence stretched.

“You’re not afraid of death, saintess…” Alastor said, voice like gravel. “But you should be afraid of me.”

She swallowed but held his gaze. “I am.”

Alastor smirked. “Good.”

But he didn’t kill her.

Instead, he turned his back, walking toward the woods.

Before disappearing into the shadows, he said, without turning around, “Tell your god to protect you. Next time, I won’t be merciful.”

And then he was gone — like smoke, like a nightmare at dawn.

The saintess stood frozen, heart thundering, blood still trailing down her cheek.

Somewhere deep inside her — beyond the fear, the disgust — a new feeling had awakened.

Something colder.

And much more dangerous.

**Will the saintess give up due to her fear, will she face it head on and confront the ruthless cult leader or......Will her heart make her choose a different path? That will only time can tell.**

Chapter 4 will be released on 1 july, guys!! Lease be patient till then!!🩷🩷

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