As they reached the door of the healing chamber and stepped inside, they saw Shin Yato finishing his conversation with Kore. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward Saintess Kyria.
Saintess Kyria spoke, her voice calm and composed.
"Shin Yato!? There's something I want to ask."
She glanced briefly at Kore before continuing.
"We should talk… outside."
Shin Yato stood slowly, his movements calm, almost casual. A small, faint smile tugged at his lips.
"We can talk here," he said softly.
Saintess Kyria paused, eyes narrowing slightly. Her voice remained calm, though tinged with hesitation and curiosity.
"There are rumors… that Chorío was destroyed by a demon. But some say it was the Holy Kingdom, spread by a young survivor. Are you… the one spreading this?"
Shin Yato said nothing. Kyria's gaze sharpened, and she asked again, her tone steady but insistent.
Shin Yato's faint smile didn't waver. His voice was calm, almost casual.
"Ah… I'm bored of this act. It's so… tiring. How do people even do it?"
The words hung in the air. A shiver ran through everyone present—not the sharp, immediate fear from before, but a deeper, suffocating chill pressing against their chests. The room felt smaller. Their breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps.
Saintess Kyria's voice was clear, serious.
"Take Kore and get away from here," she said to Nifti, sensing the danger Shin Yato posed.
Nifti stepped forward, but Shin Yato's calm voice stopped her.
"Wait. Let Kore decide that."
Kyria turned to Kore.
"Kore, come on. Go with these sisters."
Kore didn't move.
"Hurry, Kore. Go with them," Kyria urged, her tone serious, edged with worry. Still, Kore remained frozen.
Shin Yato's calm, small smile remained.
"Kore, if you want, you can go."
Slowly, Kore got off the bed and walked behind him.
Shin Yato's voice was soft.
"Good girl."
Everyone froze, eyes wide with surprise.
Shin Yato's calm voice cut through the stillness.
"You know… what you should do."
Kore didn't hesitate. She ran toward the back door of the healing chamber—the one that led to the well.
Saintess Kyria's voice rang out, sharp with worry.
"Kore! Stop… Kore, stop!"
Her words trembled, carrying both fear and urgency through the quiet chamber.
Saintess Kyria's eyes hardened, her voice calm but firm.
"Barrier."
Instantly, a shimmering shield formed around them, cutting off Shin Yato's presence—a protective wall of energy standing between him and the others.
Saintess Kyria's voice remained calm but firm.
"Now… go."
For a moment, everyone froze, uncertainty gripping them. Then, one by one, they hurried toward the door, almost running, hearts pounding.
Shin Yato remained behind. He lifted a hand and rested it lightly on the barrier. Slowly. Effortlessly. With a faint, almost playful smile, he pressed.
The barrier creaked, then shattered under his touch, collapsing as if it had been nothing at all.
Without a word, Shin Yato moved. Calm. Deliberate.
In one swift motion, his hand shot out, gripping Saintess Kyria by the head. The world seemed to slow for a fraction of a second.
And then—he threw her.
She flew across the room, colliding with the walls with a bone-jarring impact. Dust and splinters scattered as she tumbled, sliding across the floor, leaving the air heavy with the shock of violence.
Shin Yato's faint smile remained, calm and unreadable, as if nothing had happened at all.
Hearing the crash, everyone froze mid-step. Their eyes snapped toward the sound—Saintess Kyria's form lay against the wall, her body trembling from the impact.
Shock, fear, and disbelief rippled across their faces as they realized just how far Shin Yato had gone.
Shin Yato stepped out from the room through the door, each movement slow, deliberate, almost casual. He paused, glancing back at them. The corridor was frozen—eyes wide, bodies tense, terror etched into every line.
Nifti froze for a heartbeat, her gaze snapping to Saintess Kyria, thrown and slumped against the wall. The sight hit her like a blade. Memories clawed their way up from the darkest corners of her mind—nights spent abandoned, cold and hungry, teeth gnawing at emptiness, the streets offering nothing but danger and despair. And then… Kyria's hand, warm and steady, pulling her from the filth, giving her a name, a home, a chance to live.
Her chest tightened. Her knees trembled. Rage, fear, and gratitude tangled into something fierce, raw, and uncontainable.
And now… seeing her savior in this state, Nifti's heart screamed. She couldn't stay frozen any longer.
Nifti's voice broke the suffocating silence.
"You… you… bastard!" she screamed, rage and fear tangled together.
Without hesitation, she lunged toward him, her hands reaching out.
Shin Yato didn't flinch. Didn't move aside. His faint smile remained, calm, almost polite, as if watching a curious insect scuttle toward him.
Nifti's forward motion stopped in an instant. Her scream caught in her throat as Shin Yato's hand shot out with terrifying precision.
A sharp, searing pain tore through her chest. Her eyes widened in disbelief as his fingers plunged in, holding her heart—steady, unyielding, impossibly strong.
The corridor seemed to shrink around them. Every breath burned. The walls pressed closer, the cold stone echoing her ragged gasps. Her legs wobbled violently, but she could not fall. Not yet.
Shin Yato's faint smile remained, calm, almost casual. There was no anger. No malice. Just the suffocating weight of inevitability.
Blood warmed her hands as she clawed at him, but her strength was nothing. Her vision blurred with pain and fear. Her mind screamed. Her instincts begged her to move—but her body betrayed her.
He leaned slightly closer, his calm gaze fixing onto hers.
"You… wanted to stop me?" he asked softly, almost conversationally, as if discussing the weather.
Nifti could only choke out a gurgled, broken sound, terror and disbelief warring with the remnants of her courage.
The world had narrowed to that one impossibly calm smile… and the unbearable, suffocating pain in her chest.
Everyone froze, paralyzed by the sheer presence of Shin Yato and the horror unfolding before them. The corridor seemed to shrink, the air thick and suffocating.
Saintess Kyria remained slumped against the wall where she had been thrown, her body battered but her gaze still steady. Her voice came low, trembling, carrying a weight of sorrow that cut through the tension.
"Run… away," she whispered.
But no one moved. Fear rooted them to the spot. Their eyes were wide, breaths shallow, as if the very act of moving might invite death.
Shin Yato's faint smile remained, calm and unshakable, as he slowly regarded each frozen figure. Every heartbeat in the corridor seemed to echo in the heavy silence, the chill of dread pressing down like a living thing.
Shin Yato's hand plunged into Nifti's chest.
Silence stretched, broken only by her ragged gasp. Slowly, deliberately, he gripped her heart—and with a casual, almost bored motion, he pulled it free.
Nifti's last thought was when he rips her heart out, one half-sentence of her memory Kyria's hand pulling her from the street .
Her body went limp in his hand. Without haste, without emotion, he tossed her aside. She hit the corridor floor with a dull thud, sliding against the stone walls.
Shin Yato's expression remained calm, almost disinterested. His faint smile never faltered, his eyes cold and unreadable. The terror in the corridor was suffocating, but to him—it was merely another moment, another observation.
Lish's scream tore through the corridor.
"Nifti! Nifti!"
She lunged forward, her hands trembling as she grasped Nifti's head, cradling it against her chest. Her tears fell freely, hot and bitter, dripping onto the cold stone floor.
Saintess Kyria's voice wavered, trembling with desperation. With what little strength she had left, she rushed forward, placing her hands over Nifti's chest.
"It's okay… Nifti, I'm going to heal you right now," she said, forcing a smile through her tears.
But it was too late. The warmth was gone. Nifti's body was lifeless, still and cold. Her heart—ripped from her chest—left nothing but emptiness. Kyria's hands hovered uselessly over her chest, her forced smile breaking into a silent, uncomprehending sob.
The corridor was thick with grief, terror, and the suffocating shadow of Shin Yato's presence.
Shin Yato's calm voice cut through the corridor, cold and unyielding.
"Are you an idiot?" he said, his expression unreadable, almost bored. "Her heart… is in my hand."
Saintess Kyria froze, her remaining strength faltering. The words sank into her like ice, heavier than any blow, heavier than grief itself.
Saintess Kyria's eyes burned with a mixture of fear and fury. She pushed Lish back gently but firmly.
"I told you all to leave… now go!" Her voice trembled, sharp yet commanding, cutting through the frozen silence of the corridor.
Saintess Kyria pushed herself to her feet, eyes blazing as she shouted,
"HOLY CHAIN!"
The ethereal weapon shot toward Shin Yato, gleaming with blinding light. Calm as ever, he tilted his head slightly, letting the chain pass him. In a fluid motion, he moved past Saintess Kyria, Nifti's lifeless body, and Lish, and came to a stop beside Vanessa and Jenney. His faint smile remained, unnervingly composed.
Saintess Kyria and Lish turned their heads, and their eyes fell on Shin Yato—calm, composed—standing beside Vanessa and Jenney.
A wave of horror ripped through Kyria's chest. Her voice trembled as she shouted,
"No… please!"
Then Shin Yato kicked Vanessa in the stomach with slight force, and she flew across the temple, crashing into the wall. Every bone in her body shattered, one eye popped out, bleeding, and her intestines spilled from her body.
Shin Yato's hand shot out and gripped Jenney by the neck. She froze, her breath caught in her throat.
Lish surged forward, ready to attack, but Saintess Kyria's hand shot out, grabbing her arm with desperate strength.
"Leave! Now go!" Her voice trembled, thick with both anger and fear, yet her eyes never left Shin Yato.
Saintess Kyria lunged at Shin Yato, her face twisted with desperation.
In a swift, fluid motion, Shin Yato yanked Jenney's arm free and flung it toward Saintess Kyria's leg. The force of the blow sent her crashing to the floor, her leg twisting unnaturally beneath her.
Jenney's scream tore through the corridor, sharp and agonized, her neck still trapped firmly in Shin Yato's hand.
Lish froze in horror. Her leg gave out beneath her, and she collapsed, stuck in place like a statue, eyes wide with terror.
Shin Yato's other hand gripped Jenney's head. His voice was calm, almost bored.
"You always sing the prayer song in the morning, right? Now… let me hear it."
Saintess Kyria tried to rise, but her body betrayed her—she collapsed again. Crawling forward, she reached for him, voice trembling, desperate.
"Please… stop… please… please…"
But Shin Yato did not pause. Slowly, deliberately, he began twisting Jenney's neck. Her body convulsed violently, muscles trembling under the force, and the sickening sound of breaking bone echoed sharply through the corridor, reverberating off the walls.
Jenney's neck twisted—snapped backward—until her lifeless face stared directly at him. Her eyes were frozen wide, glassy, unseeing, a final, silent scream trapped in her gaze.
Saintess Kyria screamed, "NO!"—her voice breaking under the weight of crying and agony.
Shin Yato released Jenney. Her body fell to the ground, lifeless, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
He turned his gaze to Saintess Kyria, crawling desperately across the floor. Calmly, he lowered a knee beside her and spoke, his voice soft, almost gentle.
"You're good at healing, right?" A small, faint smile tugged at his lips.
Without waiting for an answer, Shin Yato rose, walking past her with measured steps. His eyes settled on Lish, who remained frozen in horror, unable to move.
Shin Yato approached Lish. She recoiled, tears streaming down her face, trembling as she tried to crawl away while still sitting on the floor.
With a small, faint smile, Shin Yato grabbed her leg. Before she could scream, he swung her violently. Bone and flesh gave way under the force, and her body became unrecognizable—a mangled ruin on the ground.
Saintess Kyria, still crawling, pleaded desperately.
"No… please… no… please… please…" Her voice cracked under the weight of her tears, her hands reaching out in helpless terror.
Shin Yato lifted Lish's barely alive body and threw it near Saintess Kyria. Calm, bored, and unflinching, he said,
"Now… heal her."
Saintess Kyria crawled toward Lish, tears streaming down her face.
Her hands shook as she placed them over the mangled body.
"Please… please… please… please…" she cried, desperate, her voice breaking with each word as she tried to heal her.
But it was too late. The damage was beyond repair.
Lish's final, broken words escaped her lips, barely audible:
"Sain…tess… ple…ase… s…ave… mm…me…"
Her voice trailed off into silence as her body went still, lifeless.
Saintess Kyria pressed her face against Lish's lifeless body, tears soaking her hair.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry, everyone…" she whispered, her voice trembling with sadness and helplessness.
Shin Yato walked closer, each step deliberate, calm. Saintess Kyria looked up, eyes wide with fear and despair.
"What… what did we do wrong?" she asked softly, her voice low, trembling, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Nothing," Shin Yato said, calm, expression unreadable.
Without warning, he pressed down, crushing one of Saintess Kyria's hands beneath Lish's broken body. Pain shot through her, and she screamed—a cry of pure agony that echoed through the corridor.
Shin Yato kneeled down, his eyes locking onto Saintess Kyria.
"You have a beautiful smile," he said, calm, his voice almost gentle.
Then, without warning, he pressed his hand over her mouth.
"Burn."
Black flames erupted from her lips, licking and twisting as Saintess Kyria cried out, low humming of pain escaping her throat. Her body convulsed in agony, powerless to stop the fire. Five minutes passed in torturous silence, the corridor filled with her muffled screams and the scent of scorched flesh.
Finally, Shin Yato removed his hand. The black flames vanished.
Saintess Kyria's mouth was destroyed—jawbone and mouthbone exposed, raw and charred.
The smell of scorched flesh filled the corridor, sweet and sickening, mixing with the copper tang of blood.
Every ounce of strength had left her. She slumped, broken and lifeless, her eyes staring but empty. Flickering with faint life.
Shin Yato stood, straightening slowly. His gaze shifted toward the main gate of the town. A small, faint smile touched his lips, calm, almost serene—as if he already knew someone had entered the town.