CHAPTER 77: DEPARTURE

The chamber fell into hushed silence.

Lucy’s silver eyes swept over the four kneeling thieves. "You dared raise your blades against this holy place. You sought to steal what was consecrated to the Goddess, meant to bless the harvests of thousands. In doing so, you not only dishonored the Empire but spat upon the Moon’s blessing itself."

Jack laughed bitterly, his voice hoarse. "Spare me your piety. We were ordered here. Do you think your little rituals mean anything to men who’ve already seen death a hundred times?"

A murmur ran through the crowd, but Lucy’s gaze did not waver. "And yet here you kneel, chained, stripped of your blades, trembling before the Goddess you mock."

Silas sneered, his teeth red with blood. "Chains mean nothing. Kill us now. Others will rise. The Syndicate doesn’t die."

A hush fell at that word — Syndicate. Even the guards stiffened. The name was whispered like poison in the underworld, but never had it been spoken openly in the sacred chamber.

Seraphina, seated at the side in her noble seat, leaned forward, her voice like steel cloaked in velvet. "If your masters are so mighty, why send scraps like you to crawl in the dirt of the Church? The truth is simple: you were sent to die. Disposable pawns in a game beyond your grasp."

Crowe growled, yanking against his chains until his wrists bled. "Shut your cursed noble mouth!"

The guards moved to silence him, but Lucy raised a hand. "No. Let them speak their venom. It will not shield them from the truth."

Her voice softened, but the weight behind it pressed down like stone. "The Moon sees all. Shadows cannot hide from her light."

The chanting of the nuns grew louder, their voices weaving like threads of silver through the hall. The air itself felt charged, heavy, sacred.

Lucy lifted her staff, and pale light poured from its tip, washing over the kneeling thieves. The glow seared into their skin, not burning flesh but forcing truth into their bones.

"Confess," Lucy commanded, her tone absolute. "Confess before the Moon what drove you to this place. The Goddess already knows."

Jack writhed, his teeth grinding. His voice cracked into a scream. "We—! We were sent to— to sow fear! To test your strength before the real strike!"

Gasps rippled through the chamber.

Silas hissed, his voice breaking. "It doesn’t matter— you’ll all— all fall soon... the Syndicate will burn this Empire from the roots!"

Crowe cursed, his head bowing, sweat pouring down his brow as the light forced words from his throat. "Damn you— damn you all...! We... were never meant to live through this mission..."

And finally, Veyra’s lips trembled. Unlike the others, her voice faltered with true fear. "...They... they said we would be remembered... as shadows that broke the Goddess’s walls... even if our lives ended here."

Lucy’s eyes softened for only a moment, pity flashing across her features — then it was gone. Her voice was calm, resolute.

"You sought remembrance through sin. Instead, you will be remembered through judgment."

The chamber’s atmosphere thickened, the chanting of the nuns now rising to a crescendo.

Lucy lowered her staff. "By decree of the Goddess of the Moon, I pass sentence."

She raised her hand, and silver light enveloped each of the four thieves. Their bodies stiffened, their eyes widening.

"You will not die by the sword. Death is fleeting. Instead, you will live, shackled in labor, your hands forced to toil in the fields you sought to rob. Your harvest will not feed your masters, but the very temples you tried to despoil. Until your bodies are broken and your sins repaid, you will serve the Moon."

The thieves roared, cursed, and spat, but the decision was final.

The faithful cheered, voices echoing through the great chamber. Guards moved swiftly, dragging the Shadows away, their chains clanging like bells of defeat.

In the end, the Moon’s light bathed the altar once more. Lucy lowered her staff and whispered a final prayer.

"So let it be written. So let it be done."

The verdict had been spoken. Silver light still lingered in the chamber, heavy with divine weight. The chanting of the nuns ebbed into silence as the guards stepped forward, hauling the chained thieves up from their knees.

They resisted, of course — Jack snarled, Silas spat, Crowe jerked against his bonds, and Veyra muttered curses under her breath. But it was hollow, stripped of the bite it once carried.

The guards dragged them toward the archway, the clatter of chains ringing across marble.

And then—

"Wait."

The single word froze the chamber.

Xavier had spoken.

He hadn’t said a thing since the trial began, standing silent at Seraphina’s side, his arms crossed, his gaze cold. But now, as the thieves turned their heads toward him, they found his silver-lit eyes already locked on them.

He stepped forward, his boots echoing in the quiet hall.

Jack bared his teeth. "What? Come to gloat, guard dog?"

Xavier’s lips curved faintly. "Gloat? No. I simply thought you deserved to hear one truth before you vanish into chains."

Silas sneered, forcing himself upright despite his shackles. "Spare us your sermons. We’ve already had enough from the nun and the noble."

But Xavier’s smirk didn’t waver. He stopped a few paces in front of them, his presence heavy, his tone cold and sharp as steel.

"You called yourselves shadows," he said slowly. "You hid in smoke, struck from behind, relied on poison and pills. You thought fear would make you strong."

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "But shadows don’t last. The moment light touches them, they vanish. And last night, the Moon herself dragged you into the open."

The thieves stiffened.

Crowe’s voice cracked, desperate. "Y-you think this ends with us? You think this Empire is safe? The Syndicate will—"

"—forget you," Xavier cut him off flatly.

The word landed heavier than any blade.

"Your masters sent you here to die. You were pawns, not warriors. And when news of your failure reaches them, they won’t mourn you. They won’t honor you. They’ll replace you. That is your Syndicate’s truth."

Veyra’s lips parted, her eyes widening despite herself.

Jack roared, straining against his chains. "Shut up! We— we were chosen!"

Xavier crouched slightly, bringing his face level with Jack’s broken mask. His smirk was cruel, merciless. "Chosen? No. Used. And you weren’t even worth using well."

The chamber was silent save for the faint rattling of chains. Even the nuns, normally serene, exchanged glances, the cruelty of the words striking harder than the holy sentence.

Xavier straightened, stepping back, his eyes still on the four broken figures. His tone softened, but the edge was sharper than ever.

"So take your new chains, and remember this. You wanted to be shadows that lived in fear and hatred. But from today onward, you will serve as tools of light — laboring under the very Goddess you spat on."

He turned his back on them, dismissing them entirely.

"Take them away."

The guards saluted. "Yes, Sir!"

The four Shadows were dragged from the hall, their curses now strangled, weaker than before. For the first time, despair clung to their faces not from divine judgment... but from the cold words of a man who had seen straight through them.

The crowd erupted — some cheering, some whispering in awe, some murmuring Xavier’s name.

Lucy’s silver eyes lingered on him, unreadable. Seraphina, at his side, hid a small smile behind her hand.

And Xavier? He simply folded his arms once more, silent, as if he had never spoken at all.

The bells of the Church of the Moon rang again, but this time it was not for judgment. Their deep tolls echoed across the courtyard as the sun finally began to climb, its light washing the marble steps in pale gold that mixed with the lingering silver of the moon.

The great doors of the church opened.

Seraphina Valemont emerged first, her silver hair catching the morning light, her noble cloak trailing behind her with quiet elegance. At her side walked Xavier, calm and silent, his presence steady as stone. Behind them, their guards moved in formation, armor polished by the dawn, their steps heavy but proud.

The crowd that had gathered through the trial now parted, whispers running through them like wind through tall grass.

"That’s Lady Seraphina... And that man—her personal guard. Did you see? They say he cut down the thieves like they were nothing..."

"Truly, the Moon must favor the House of Valemont..."

Seraphina held her chin high, but her eyes flicked to the people as they murmured. She saw awe, yes — but also fear. Fear of the Syndicate’s name, fear of shadows that had dared to strike at holy ground. It was a fear that would spread if not controlled.

At the top of the steps, the Head Nun Lucy waited, flanked by her sisters in spotless white. Her silver eyes met Seraphina’s, then Xavier’s. She bowed deeply, her voice carrying the weight of both gratitude and solemnity.