Zellheim, the Royal Capital.
With a dull clatter of mechanisms, a secret door disguised as a marble relief slowly opened behind the main hall of Holy Radiance Cathedral.
Archbishop Edmund emerged from the dark passage. Sunlight he had not seen in days streamed through the dome's stained glass, bathing the entire hall in golden splendor.
He instinctively narrowed his eyes, then slowly surveyed his surroundings.
It remained immaculate. The white marble walls gleamed in the sunlight, without even a trace of smoke damage. The enormous solid-gold Holy Emblem above the main entrance still hung high overhead, shining with a brilliance that made people afraid to look directly at it.
Edmund reached out and gently stroked the spotless mahogany pew beside him, a contemptuous sneer curling his lips.
"Hmph. This is what a solid foundation means."
He murmured under his breath, his tone steeped in arrogance.
This attempt to "shed the tail to save the body" had been dangerous, but his gamble had paid off. No matter how much those rioters rampaged, no matter how blood-crazed they became in the Lower District, they still trembled to their very bones before this Grand Cathedral, the symbol of supreme Divine Authority. They would not even dare throw a stone.
Those damned poisoners understood nothing. The Sacred Stigma implantation records accumulated over more than a century, the officers who possessed the crucial expertise, the Holy Water manufacturing equipment-these were the Church's roots.
As long as those roots remained, what did it matter if every believer in Zellheim's Lower District died? Discarding those peripheral low-ranking clerics and useless believers like a lizard shedding its tail had preserved the core forces intact.
"Archbishop, you're out."
The attendant who had been waiting nearby immediately approached and offered a warm, damp towel.
Edmund wiped his hands at a