Bondi had told no one about his nightmares. A trace of fear had inevitably taken root in his heart. Though it should have been unlikely, though it should have been a distant possibility, he was terrified of following in Taylor's footsteps.
Another day's prayers had ended. Taylor stood beneath the Holy Light Statue, watching the faithful leave. But he did not leave himself. He remained there for a long time, then lowered his gaze to the Gospel. On its flyleaf were the words:
Those devoted to the holy light have no fear in their hearts.
"Am I not devoted enough to the holy light? No, that can't be. Could my mind have been corrupted?"
Bondi touched his forehead and turned to the Holy Light Statue. That heretic's thing must have affected me. Damn that heretic! If I can just catch him, just purify him, I'll be fine!
"The holy light will protect me!"
That afternoon, Bondi went out with an older priest. Throughout Digo, the Holy Temple's clergy had become more active, though not enough to appear unusual.
Their route had been planned in advance. Along the way, they were to stop at a viscount's home to help conduct a blessing ceremony.
Digo City was bustling and hurried. Some streets were quiet, while others teemed with people. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Bondi was weighed down by worries but tried to act normal. The other priest kept watching their surroundings.
"Perhaps that fellow has already left. What do you think, Priest Bondi?"
"Huh?"
Bondi came back to himself and hurriedly answered.
"Yes, perhaps. I was wondering what his goal really was."
"Sometimes heretics are simply madmen."
As the older priest spoke, he suddenly noticed that Bondi had stopped. He halted as well and looked at him.
"What is it?"