Painful!
Ouch, so painful!
Why does my head hurt so badly?
Nathan tried opening his eyes but all he could see was darkness.
What's going on?
He tried moving his hands but they wouldn't budge. It was as if they were tied together by something rough.
A rope… probably? Judging by its poor structure, it's definitely from Twilight. Was I kidnapped?
If that was the case then the reason why Nathan couldn't see was because he was blindfolded.
But why would he be blindfolded, tied up, and then placed somewhere he knew nothing of?
He was never that careless.
Then suddenly the memories started flooding in.
Ah, yes I was following traces of The Pilgrim. Was I caught?
Nathan let out a sigh then tried moving his legs.
Luckily, they responded as expected. Seems like they didn't tie up his legs.
How foolish of them….
Carefully pulling off his shoes, he began to draw out a symbol on the floor. Without his sight, it definitely made it difficult to draw out an see-through enchantment spell and any mistake could result in him becoming stark naked.
Still, he decided to give it a shot. While drawing it, he began to hear voices and footsteps approaching towards him.
Need to hurry up….
"I'm telling you," one of the voices said. "You should have seen the way that girl screamed when I killed her family."
Nathan bit his lips, the memory still fresh in his mind. Blood stained all over the house, on the girl and even on him.
So it was these guys doing…
At this time, Nathan had drawn the last line.
"Ra, god of the sun, bless thee with eternal light and grant thee the ability to see even during the dark and through the dark."
He quickly recited and suddenly light burst into his eyes, almost blinding him.
Yes….
He thought to himself satisfied. His eyes scanned his surroundings, he seemed to be in an old church with explicit details to the God of Curses and Machineries, Jinx.
I can see why they are a crazy bunch…
"Henry, didn't you explain to the girl that the death of her family was simply a sacrifice to Jinx to bless her return."
Nathan gritted his teeth.
So they really believe murder is a blessing?
Twisted bastards…
He quietly shifted, adjusting his posture while keeping an ear out. Two of them at least from the sound of it. Their voices echoed through the stone walls of the old church.
"She kept screaming, 'Why me?' Like it was personal," Henry chuckled darkly. "But isn't that the fun part?"
Nathan drew a deep breath. He couldn't afford to waste time. Now that he could see, the spell would only last a few more minutes. He needed to act fast.
Think, Nathan, think…
His eyes darted to the altar. There were relics… blades, likely ceremonial. To his right, an old podium was leaning, dusty but still sturdy enough to hide behind.
If he could just break free from the ropes…
A sudden crackle from a torch behind them drew his attention. The flames flared for a moment, responding to the magic in the air.
"Careful," the other man said. "The kid's no ordinary rat. Pilgrim hunter, remember? The Prophet wants him alive for the trial."
Trial? Prophet? Great… there's a cult hierarchy involved.
Nathan tugged subtly at the ropes again. His fingers grazed the edge of his pants where, luckily, a small hidden blade had been sewn in.
Bless old habits…
He started sawing through the rope, his movements slow and precise. Every second mattered.
Meanwhile, the cultists continued their twisted conversation, their laughter echoing through the church.
"Do you think she'll break?"
"They always do. That's when they're most useful to Jinx."
Nathan's jaw tightened.
Not if I break you first.
Finally, with one last twist, the ropes gave way.
Finally….
Nathan didn't waste a second. He lunged toward the podium, using it as cover, then darted toward the altar. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the nearest curved blade.
The cultists turned, startled.
"What the…?!"
Too late.
Nathan threw the blade straight into Henry's shoulder, pinning him against the wall with a scream. The other tried to reach for his staff, but Nathan was already on him, knocking the weapon aside with his foot and slamming his fist into the man's jaw.
The man stumbled backward, tripping over a broken pew.
"You… you little…"
"I'm no one's sacrifice," Nathan growled.
As the second cultist tried to rise, Nathan grabbed the blade from Henry's shoulder, yanking it free with a sickening squelch, and turned back to finish the job.
Nathan didn't hesitate.
He yanked the blade from Henry's shoulder and spun, driving it straight through the chest of the second cultist before the man could finish his curse. Blood sprayed across the cracked altar.
Both cultists slumped to the floor.
Nathan wiped the blade against one of their cloaks, panting.
No time to waste.
He darted toward the crumbling side aisle, slipping through a door half-covered in vines. The church's decaying structure groaned above threatening to cave in anytime soon, but Nathan moved fast, his footsteps light and practiced.
Where would a cult hide their secrets…?
He moved through the underground tunnels until he reached a cold, metallic wall, half-buried in rubble.
Symbols lit up as he brushed his fingers across them.
A hidden entrance hissed open.
Inside… he found it.
The Pilgrims' lair.
A vast chamber spread before him, circular in shape, lined with archaic machinery fused with ritualistic relics. Strange mixtures of tech and occult littered the space. Arcane scrolls glowed beside power cores. Holograms buzzed beside blood-smeared altars.
And in the center… their leader.
Or what Nathan assumed was.
He paused, brows furrowing.
This was… it?
The "immense" figure was tall, yes. Cloaked in layered robes, hovering slightly off the floor. But Nathan had expected something more monstrous more divine.
"Huh…" Nathan whispered to himself. "Was expecting more tentacles, less posture."
He crouched behind a rack of glowing relics and quietly pulled out the metia from his coat… a sleek, orb-like device etched with ancient Lunaris sigils.
With a twist, he activated the beacon.
Beep.
Nathan's eyes widened. "No, no..don't beep…"
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
The lair fell silent.
Every Pilgrim in the chamber turned toward the sound.
Nathan looked up slowly, giving a tight smile as dozens of red-glowing eyes fixed on him.
"Well... that's my cue."
He bolted.
Shouts erupted behind him. Arcane projectiles scorched past. One grazed his shoulder, tearing his coat.
Nathan skidded around a corner and hurled a small orb behind him. A burst of freezing mist exploded, coating the floor and tripping several cultists.
Two leapt ahead of the pack, catching up quickly.
Nathan ducked and flipped a switch under his glove.
Snap!
Spikes burst from the ground, impaling one. The other flung a blade at him…
…. Only for it to bounce off a pulse shield Nathan triggered just in time.
"Try harder, robes!"
He dashed into the central corridor, only to find himself surrounded by half a dozen of them.
These weren't just grunts.
Robes darker, staves humming, eyes hollow. The top Pilgrims.
"Well…" Nathan muttered, raising both hands. "This looks bad."
The tallest of them stepped forward. "You'll die here, Pilgrim hunter."
Nathan smirked. "I'm not a Pilgrim hunter. I'm a detective. But hey… guess you're not great at identifying threats."
The leader raised his hand to strike…
CRASH!
Light flooded the chamber as a wall burst open. Gleaming armor, glowing swords, and a banner of silver moons stormed in.
"The Lunaris Knights!" one cultist screamed.
The knights moved fast disarming, subduing, striking with precision and magic-enhanced steel. Nathan ducked as a blast flew past him, then stood and whistled.
"Took you long enough."
A knight in ornate lunar armor approached him. "Detective Nathan. We got your signal. You okay?"
Nathan dusted himself off, glancing around at the groaning, defeated cultists.
"I am now."
He looked toward the bound leader as the knights moved to apprehend him.
"Tell the Prophet," Nathan said. "The Pilgrim days are numbered and I, Nathan Black caught him."