Most people lived ordinary lives. Unless disaster struck from the heavens, how could anyone lose hope for the future?
As night fell, Vasco awoke from meditation. The Holy Power within him had mostly recovered. He asked himself whether, if he encountered that mysterious young man again, he would definitely... probably still be suppressed once more.
No one had given Vasco anything to go on, but this was indeed the only thought in his mind at that moment.
The Holy Church's main force had yet to appear. He suddenly remembered what Father Stra had said earlier, and felt vaguely uneasy—but when he recalled that the Holy Church's main force was led by one of the four-winged Descending Angels, who served as its commander, he felt somewhat reassured.
The phone rang. It was a call from several Holy Knights' trainee candidates staying at the apartment outside.
Vasco glanced at the time and wondered whether he had hit them too hard. Those few kids had only just regained consciousness... He answered the call, and a string of anxious questions immediately came from the other end.
"I'm fine... From now on, stay in the apartment until I return. You can order takeout during that time."
After hanging up, Vasco left the room. He continued onward until he reached the church, where he finally saw Father Stra.
The church lights were off, but many white candles had been lit... on the seats, on the floor, and even on the steps. Their flames swayed in the draft caused by Vasco opening the door. He saw Father Stra sitting on the floor.
A brazier sat before Father Stra. At that moment, he was continuously tossing square pieces of coarse paper, torn from somewhere unknown, into the fire.
"What are you doing?" Vasco asked with a