They retreated from the square without being pursued.
That was what made everything feel worse.
No shouts.
No pursuing footsteps.
Only three Laments standing still in the fog.
Observing.
Like hunters who already knew their prey had no way out.
Rowan walked at the very front.
His sword was still in hand, but now more out of habit than conviction.
"I don't like this," he muttered.
Mara walked beside him.
"Because they're not pursuing?"
Rowan nodded.
"Yes. That means they don't need to."
That sentence hung like snow that never fell.
Elias walked behind with Luca and the old man.
Their steps led to the deeper part of the city.
Toward the place Luca called "the brighter one."
The alleys of Greyhaven grew narrower.
The houses here were older.
Quieter.
But strangely—
the air here was not as cold as other parts of the city.
As if something was holding back winter from entering completely.
Luca stopped in front of a small building.
The building was almost collapsed.
Its stone walls cracked.
Its door tilted.
There was no sign that this place had ever been important.
Rowan looked at it flatly.
"This?"
"Our bright place?"
Luca nodded.
"Below."
Mara squinted her eyes.
"A basement?"
Luca shook his head slowly.
"Deeper."
Elias approached that door.
He touched the wood.
Cold.
But not dead.
He pushed the door.
The door opened with a long sound.
Inside was dark.
But not completely.
There was a small light… from below.
They entered.
The air inside felt different.
Calmer.
As if this place was not entirely touched by the fog outside.
In the middle of the room was an old stone staircase leading downward.
Elias looked at it.
"This is not an ordinary basement."
Mara answered briefly.
"Nothing is ordinary anymore."
They descended.
Their footsteps echoed softly.
One level.
Two levels.
The air grew warmer.
Not hot like fire.
But warm like something… alive.
When they reached the bottom—
they all stopped.
The room was spacious.
Its walls were old stone.
But in the middle of the room—
there was something.
A stone pillar.
Cracked.
Old.
But standing firm.
And within the cracks of that pillar—
there was light.
Small light.
Like an ember.
But not extinguished.
Rowan whispered softly.
"…what is this?"
Elias approached slowly.
He could feel it now.
The same feeling as when reading the Gospel.
But stronger.
Purer.
Luca smiled small for the first time.
"This never died."
Mara touched the air near that light.
The small fire from her forge earlier felt… calm here.
"This is not ordinary fire."
The old carpenter knelt slowly.
His tears fell again.
"This…"
"…this is like the first time I made something for my child."
Elias finally understood.
This was not merely light.
This was something that remained.
Remnants of human hope.
That never truly disappeared.
He opened his small book.
Without thinking long—
he read.
But this time—
the words were not only heard.
They responded.
The light in the pillar burned brighter.
The crack in the stone widened slightly.
And from within—
something emerged.
Not an object.
Not a weapon.
But a page.
An old page.
Made of something not ordinary paper.
Floating slowly out of the pillar.
Rowan stepped back one step.
"Alright."
"Now we're entering the weird part."
Mara said nothing.
Her eyes were fixed on that page.
Elias extended his hand.
The page was not hot.
Not cold.
But felt… alive.
The writing inside was different from ordinary books.
Deeper.
Sharper.
As if the words themselves had weight.
Luca whispered.
"This is yours."
Elias looked at him.
"Why?"
Luca answered softly.
"Because you heard it."
Elias did not argue.
He looked at that page.
And for the first time—
he was not only reading the Gospel.
He understood it.
This was not merely a book.
This was a source.
And perhaps—
this was one of the 13 Gospels scattered in the world.
But before he could say something—
the sound of cracking was heard from above.
Everyone froze.
Rowan immediately turned toward the stairs.
"Oh no."
Fog began to creep down through the gaps of the stairs.
Slowly.
But surely.
Mara gripped her hammer again.
"Seems they don't want us keeping that."
Luca whispered.
"They're afraid."
Elias gripped that page.
And for the first time—
he felt something truly clear.
Not just hope.
But directed power.
He looked toward the stairs.
Fog descended further.
And shadows began to form up there.
Elias spoke softly.
"Then…"
He raised that page.
"…let's see if this light can survive underground."