CHAPTER 72: THE RAID!

"Yes. With the two of you here, their schemes will crumble. The Goddess herself will see to it."

Lucy’s silver eyes lingered on Xavier for a heartbeat longer than necessary, though she quickly turned her focus back to Seraphina. "You will not return to your estate this evening, then?"

Seraphina shook her head firmly. "No. It would be foolish to leave the Church vulnerable. We will stay here until morning. Once the sun rises and the faithful return, the threat will vanish with the shadows. By then, we’ll depart."

Lucy pressed her hand to her chest, bowing slightly. "Then you will have sanctuary here. I shall prepare quarters for you both, close enough that you may act swiftly should danger arise."

Her voice softened, though her gaze remained unwavering. "The night will be long... but the Goddess is watching."

"Good," Seraphina said, her tone calm, decisive.

Lucy gestured to one of the side corridors, leading them through the candlelit halls. Their footsteps echoed softly against the marble floor, the silence pressing down heavier with every step. Outside the stained-glass windows, the moon hung higher and brighter, as if the Goddess herself was drawing nearer.

Finally, Lucy stopped before a modest chamber with heavy oaken doors. "You may rest here tonight. It is safe, and close to the prayer halls. If anything stirs, you’ll hear it."

Xavier glanced around, his sharp gaze tracing every corner of the room, every shadow. He didn’t relax, not fully. The tension in the air told him trouble was already close.

Seraphina turned to Lucy, her silver hair gleaming faintly in the moonlight filtering through the window. "Thank you, Head Nun. We’ll see this through together."

Lucy bowed once more. "As it should be. Tonight, this Church will not fall."

The door closed behind them, and the night crept on, heavy and watchful.

The chamber Lucy had given them was quiet, the air faintly perfumed with incense from the prayer halls. Yet neither Seraphina nor Xavier settled into rest. They remained standing, the silence heavy between them until Seraphina finally spoke.

"This room is too still," she said, her sharp eyes moving to the window where the moonlight spilled across the stone floor. "It will not do to simply wait here like lambs in a pen. If they come, I want them to meet us on ground of our choosing."

Xavier’s lips curved into a faint grin. "I was about to suggest the same. Waiting in here would be boring."

Seraphina turned to him, her silver hair gleaming faintly in the lantern light. "We’ll make preparations. The guards are loyal, but scattered. I’ll have them stationed at choke points — the outer gates, the east cloister, and near the storage halls where the offerings are kept."

She paused, considering. "If these men are professionals, they’ll aim straight for the storerooms. That will be their priority."

Xavier nodded. "And if they’re cowards in disguise, they’ll try to slip through quietly and take what they can carry." His eyes narrowed as he flexed his hand against the hilt at his side. "Either way, they won’t escape."

Seraphina’s tone shifted, colder, more commanding now. "Then here’s how it will be: I’ll assign half the guards to secure the storerooms directly. The other half will patrol the grounds in pairs — no one alone. The moment they spot movement, the bells will sound. We draw them in, we box them, and we cut them down."

The clarity of her words carried the weight of a noble used to command, but it was more than that — it was strategy honed by instinct. Xavier couldn’t help but smirk.

"You’ve got a cruel streak, Seraphina."

She glanced at him, arching a brow. "Cruelty isn’t the word. Precision is."

Together they left the chamber, their footsteps echoing softly through the marble corridors. They found the guards waiting in the outer halls, tense but alert. Seraphina’s gaze swept over them with an edge that made even the veterans straighten.

"You’ve heard the reports," she said coolly. "Tonight, the Church will be tested. But know this: we do not fight to protect ourselves. We fight to defend the Goddess’s house. Every grain stored here, every offering given, is holy. And if we fail—" her voice sharpened, "—we fail not just our order, but the empire itself. Do you understand?"

A chorus of "Yes, my Lady!" rang out, though the unease in their eyes betrayed them.

Xavier stepped forward then, his presence like steel. He didn’t speak with the tone of a noble — he spoke like a man who had killed before. "Keep your ears sharp. Keep your swords ready. Bandits stink of fear before they strike — you’ll feel it before you see it. And if you do see them... don’t hesitate. Hesitation gets you killed."

His words cut clean, the kind of simple truth that soldiers trusted. A few of the guards exchanged glances, their grips on their spears tightening with new determination.

Satisfied, Seraphina divided them into groups and sent them off. The Church’s vast halls grew restless as men moved into position, torches lit along the cloisters, the distant clang of metal echoing faintly.

Hours passed.

The moon climbed higher, its light spilling cold and unyielding through the stained glass. The incense had long since faded, replaced by the smell of oil from burning torches. The halls were quiet, too quiet.

Standing in the courtyard beneath the looming statue of the Moon Goddess, Xavier narrowed his eyes. His instincts prickled, that quiet tension in his chest he’d learned never to ignore. He scanned the walls, the gardens beyond, the long shadows stretching under the moonlight.

"They’re close," he muttered.

Seraphina turned her head slightly, her voice calm but edged. "You feel it too?"

He smirked faintly, his hand resting once more on his hilt. "Like wolves just beyond the treeline. They’re waiting for something."

Her silver eyes lifted to the moon above. "Then let them wait. The Goddess sees all beneath her light. And so do we."

The night held its breath.

The ambush had not yet come, but the weight of it pressed heavy on every stone, every shadow, every heartbeat.

The calm before the storm.

Xavier stood by the door of the chamber, his shadow long under the silver spill of moonlight from the window. Seraphina, now inside and seated at the desk with a candle still burning, looked up at him with a faint frown.

"You’re restless," she said quietly.

He glanced back at her, his expression calm but edged with resolve. "Stay here. Whatever happens, don’t step out. You’re a noble. I can’t have you meddling in what I and the guards are meant to handle."

Her lips parted as if to argue, but the steady certainty in his tone silenced her. She saw the look in his eyes — not arrogance, but pure determination. She nodded once, slowly. "...Don’t die."

Xavier smirked faintly. "I don’t plan to."

He turned and stepped out, closing the heavy wooden door behind him. The hall was quiet, the night air seeping through the high windows. He walked with measured calm, but every muscle in his body was alive, alert. He could feel it — the stillness of the world before the storm.

Then midnight came.

A ripple of movement in the darkness beyond the courtyard walls. The faintest hiss of air.

Swoosh... swoosh... swoosh!

Shadows leapt over the Church’s fences in a blur of motion, their speed and agility far beyond that of common men. Five figures, garbed in assassin black, their faces hidden behind sleek masks. They landed without a sound, blades glinting faintly in the moonlight.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed. His voice dropped low. "They’re here."

His hand lifted, a simple motion — and at once, the guards hidden across the courtyard stirred. Steel hissed as weapons were drawn, boots thudded lightly against stone, and in moments the intruders found themselves surrounded.

From every side, armored men stepped out, cutting off every escape path. The formation closed like the tightening jaws of a beast.

Xavier took one step forward, his presence cold and unyielding. "We have you cornered."

The air thickened as he advanced, his aura pressing down on them like iron. The guards moved with him, tightening the circle, their shields and blades gleaming faintly under torchlight.

But the five thieves did not panic.

Instead, their leader laughed dryly, the sound muffled by his mask. "Oho... so they were waiting for us. Prepared, even. Interesting." He tilted his head, his voice dropping into something colder, sharper. "I wonder how the information of our raid got leaked..."

His gaze flicked back to one of the men behind him. His tone snapped like a whip. "Marrow Jack."

"Yes!" came the reply.

Jack hurled a handful of small black orbs to the ground.

Clack, clack, clack—

In an instant, the courtyard exploded into choking darkness as the Dust Veil spread out like a living fog, rolling thick and heavy. Vision vanished. The torches sputtered, their flames smothered into dim glows.

Shouts rang out from the guards as the haze consumed the formation.