The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

In The Holy Cathedral of Huntington

Ashton sat in the quiet church, his hands clasped together as he gazed at the grand statue of Goddess Rebecca.

The statue was carved from pure white marble, standing tall with an aura of divine grace. Her flowing robes seemed to move as if touched by an unseen wind, and her gentle face held an expression of eternal wisdom. In her right hand, she held a golden staff, symbolizing creation, while her left hand was extended outwar, as if blessing those who sought her guidance.

Softly, Ashton whispered his prayer.

"Oh, great Goddess Rebecca, Mother of Creation, keeper of divine wisdom and endless light."

"May your blessings guide the lost and your grace protect the faithful."

For a few moments, he remained still, letting the peace of the sacred place wash over him. Then, the sound of soft footsteps broke the silence.

A priest, an elderly man with a kind smile and warm eyes, approached. His robes were simple, yet they carried the holy insignia of the church.

"You seem deep in thought, my child," the priest said gently.

Ashton turned and nodded respectfully. "Yes, Father Gregory. I was reflecting on a few things."

The priest chuckled. "That is what this place is for. A sanctuary for the soul. But something tells me you came here for more than just prayer."

Ashton hesitated, then reached into his bag and pulled out an old book. Its cover was worn, with the title barely legible yet there was no sign of damage on the pages of the book.

The Book of Celestial Harmony was written by Marconi.

"Father, I want to purify this," Ashton said, placing the book on the pew between them.

Gregory’s brows lifted slightly. "Purify?" He reached for the book, running his fingers over its surface. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"I got this from an ominous source," Ashton admitted. "I just wanted to check if it has any lingering attachment to evil. It had been in association with some specters and evils."

Father Gregory nodded in understanding. "Of course, let me take a look."

He held the book firmly, closed his eyes, and began chanting a holy prayer. A soft golden light surrounded the book, flickering like a gentle flame. Ashton watched closely, his heart pounding slightly.

After a few moments, the light faded, and Gregory smiled reassuringly. "This book hasn’t been tainted. It’s clean, so you don’t need to worry."

He handed it back to Ashton.

Ashton took it, forcing himself to stay calm, but his mind was in turmoil.

What?! There was nothing?

Then… was that thing inside real?

He tightened his grip on the book, his expression neutral, but inside, doubt and unease twisted in his chest.

...

Samuel was about to respond when he felt his throat catch. He coughed, then glared at Saber with frustration. "Is this guy really like this even in the academy? How do you folks handle him?"

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Saber, lounging in his chair, casually put down his glass. "I don’t know, man. I’m not from the academy." His tone was indifferent, but his eyes darted toward Lukas with a hint of unease.

Samuel’s brow furrowed. His gaze shifted to Lukas, who wore a faint smile. It might have been reassuring, but something was unnerving about it—something sinister. The smile felt fake, a thin veneer barely concealing the cold mind behind it.

"Stop your crying," Lukas said sharply, his tone cutting through the air like a blade. "You don’t need to act like a victim. It’s not as if you haven’t gained anything."

Samuel froze. His breath caught, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Lukas. How did he know? The boy had an uncanny ability to see through everything, and Samuel hated it.

He couldn’t deny it. He had been tempted—anyone would have been. A chance to establish a connection with the Duchess wasn’t something a man in his position could easily refuse. He knew she’d be suspicious of him, but he’d assumed she’d target Lukas just as much. He had thought he’d share the burden, that Lukas would take the heat and shield him.

But no.

Instead, Samuel had been thrown to the wolves.

Imprisoned. Starved. Beaten. Tortured.

The Duchess had picked him apart piece by piece, and only when she found nothing worthwhile did she release him. Now, she dangled promises of support for his black market operations like a chain around his neck.

And Lukas… Lukas had known all along. He had planned it. The boy’s cold calculation had ensured the Duchess wouldn’t come for him, and Samuel had walked straight into the trap. A chill ran down his spine as he realized just how deeply Lukas had played him.

Samuel let out a long sigh, his frustration and resentment bubbling to the surface. "Yes, I’ve got some benefits," he admitted, his voice tight, "but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten you."

"You’re saying that as if I reaped some rewards," Lukas scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. "When I didn’t."

Samuel’s jaw clenched. His fingers itched to throw the glass in front of him, but he held back. "Enough!" he barked, trying to regain some control over the situation.

"Just tell me why you’re here. Do you want some help? After all, I can’t refuse you since you’ve helped me… a bit."

Lukas reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. He placed it on the table with deliberate precision, his eyes never leaving Samuel’s. "I’m here because I want you to send this message."

Samuel hesitated, his curiosity overriding his irritation. "Whom do you want to send it to?"

Lukas’s smile widened, but it was anything but warm. "To the Royal Knights."

"PFFFT!"

Saber spat out his vodka for the second time that night, his eyes wide with disbelief. He stared at Lukas as though the boy had just declared war on the world. "What the f***?" his expression seemed to scream.

Setting his glass down with a loud clunk, Saber muttered under his breath, "This bastard won’t let me drink. I’ve already wasted two sips."