The detached building in the rear courtyard.
Candles burned quietly in the airtight room, casting the shadows of four figures in black monastic robes onto the walls.
The woman leading them, code-named "Judgment," was wiping her weapon with a piece of linen.
The runes on the dagger shimmered faintly in the candlelight.
The other three male Witch Hunters were either meditating or tending to their equipment.
They were the Church's sharpest blades, the Purifying Fire that eradicated heretics. Discipline and devotion had been carved into their very bones.
A soft knock came at the door.
One Witch Hunter rose to open it, took a tray from the servant outside, then quickly shut the door again. Not a word was exchanged.
Hot water was poured into four earthenware cups, and white bread was handed to each of them.
This was one of their rituals for keeping body and spirit pure, rejecting any flesh or strong liquor that might taint their souls.
The woman lifted her cup and was about to drink.
Her movement suddenly stopped.
"There's... something in the water." Her voice remained cold, but carried a trace of doubt.
The other three immediately went on alert.
One of them, code-named "Interrogation," was the team's perception specialist. He closed his eyes, spreading his mental power like mercury as he carefully examined the liquid in the cup.
A moment later, he opened his eyes and shook his head.
"No reaction to toxins, no curses, no shadow or other magical energy. It may be psychological."
The woman's brow relaxed.
Her companion's findings could not be wrong. If he found no negative effects, there were none. Perhaps Carlos's disappearance had left her overly tense.
She hesitated no longer and drained the warm water in her cup. The other three also finished their food and