As Cassian stepped through the grand arched doors of the Church of Lumina, a chill settled over his shoulders—one that had nothing to do with the temperature.
The marble beneath his feet gleamed as if scrubbed by the divine. Stained glass windows bathed the interior in soft hues of gold and blue, casting long, holy shadows that seemed to watch him more than comfort him. Statues of saints lined the corridor, their eyes closed, hands pressed in eternal prayer. It should've felt peaceful. But Cassian's heart pounded in his chest like a war drum.
Why was I summoned here personally?
What do they want from me?
His thoughts raced. He had been an E-rank healer, nothing more. A commoner born without a title or noble blood. So why had the Church, under the Pope's own order, requested his presence?
A silent priest, dressed in ceremonial white, led him down a quiet corridor. Neither of them spoke. Cassian's fingers fidgeted by his side. The silence stretched with each step, coiling tightly in his chest.
Finally, they stopped in front of a heavy door reinforced with gold patterns and holy runes.
"He is waiting for you inside," the priest said, then walked away without another word.
Cassian stood alone. For a moment, he hesitated.
Am I going to be punished? Imprisoned? Excommunicated? What did I even do?
With trembling fingers, he pushed the door open.
What greeted him was not a shrine… but something that looked like it had no place in a holy temple.
It was an interrogation chamber—no, a torture room.
The scent of dried herbs mixed with a metallic tang. Racks lined the walls, holding sharp tools whose purposes Cassian could only guess at. Chains hung from the ceiling. Holy symbols were etched into the stone, glowing faintly.
His throat went dry.
This… this isn't a room of blessings. This is where the Church breaks people.
He swallowed hard, thoughts spinning in a whirlwind.
Maybe this is it. Maybe someone spread lies about me. Maybe the other healers who hated me banded together to accuse me of heresy. I should've seen it coming. This life… I should be grateful for it while it lasted.
In his mind, he began silently thanking the people who had helped him until now. The kind receptionist at the guild. Mira from the healer's guild. Even the instructor who had berated him every morning during training.
This life was… short. But it wasn't bad.
Then—
"Cassian."
A voice, deep and commanding, echoed in the chamber.
Cassian flinched and looked up.
At the far end of the room stood a tall man with sharp, intelligent eyes and neatly combed gray hair. He wore robes far more intricate than those of an ordinary priest, with golden thread interwoven through every fold. This was no ordinary clergyman.
"High Priest Garven…" Cassian whispered.
The man approached slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
"So, you are Cassian—the kind healer who's become so popular that even the Pope had to take notice." His tone was unreadable. Somewhere between amusement and scrutiny.
Cassian bowed slightly. "H-Hello, Sir Garven."
He hated how small his voice sounded. Like a mouse in front of a lion.
Garven's eyes narrowed slightly, his footsteps echoing across the chamber. "Tell me, Cassian—how exactly did your presence result in the collapse of so many healers' businesses in your city? What did you do?"
Cassian blinked. "I… I don't know. I didn't do anything special."
Garven raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then explain."
Cassian took a breath, steadying himself. "I've been living at the Adventurer's Guild for the past six months. They gave me a place to stay, three meals a day—food better than anything I ever imagined. They provided an instructor to help me learn basic combat, and they paid me a modest salary. All they asked in return was that I heal injured adventurers twice a day. That's it. I'm only an E-rank healer. My mana pool is small, but… they still trusted me. They never forced me to do more than I could."
Garven studied him carefully. His expression remained neutral.
"So, you claim you did nothing wrong."
"I only did what a healer is meant to do: heal. If you don't believe me, you can ask Mira or the others at the healer's guild in my city. They'll vouch for me."
There was silence for a few heartbeats. Cassian braced himself for judgment.
But then… Garven smiled.
"Hmm… Indeed. A healer should heal wounds. Hah." He chuckled softly, as if amused by the simplicity of the answer.
Cassian blinked in surprise.
Garven turned away and walked toward a polished cabinet. "Alright then, Cassian. Since you are now part of the Church of Lumina, you must follow our rules. Listen carefully."
And so, he began listing them:
"You must never allow anyone into the inner sanctum without permission. You are not to use the Church's influence or resources for personal matters. You must wear the Church's symbol at all times, and…"
The list continued. And continued. Cassian did his best to memorize each one, but his mind began to blur from the sheer length and detail.
"…and lastly, should you ever encounter forbidden magic, you are to report it immediately. Do not attempt to handle it yourself."
After nearly thirty minutes, Garven stopped and turned to face him once more.
"Now then, Cassian. You have three paths ahead of you. Choose wisely."
He raised three fingers.
"One: You may begin as a low-ranking priest. You'll handle menial tasks, prayer sessions, and general temple maintenance."
Cassian grimaced slightly. I'll be treated like a servant. And with no noble blood, they'll make me clean floors till my hands bleed.
"Two: You may work under a higher-ranking priest or an archbishop as an assistant."
Being ordered around by a noble priest? No thanks. This body has already lived enough of that kindness.
Garven raised the third finger.
"Or… you may become an Exorcist."
Cassian's eyes narrowed slightly. That last one sparked something in him.
"May I know more about the Exorcist role, sir?"
Garven nodded, pleased.
Garven's voice grew more formal, almost ceremonial.
"Exorcists are the blades of the divine, Cassian. Where ordinary priests offer guidance and healing, Exorcists walk into cursed lands, forgotten ruins, and blighted forests. Their role is to purify areas tainted by evil—undead infestations, demonic corruption, ancient curses. Few possess the will or faith to survive such tasks. Even fewer return whole."
He paused, eyes sharp.
"Exorcists are not just healers. They are warriors of light, armed with divine spells, sacred relics, and unshakable resolve. You will be feared. Revered. Hated, even. You will often walk alone. But every step you take will be in the name of cleansing this world of its filth."
"Exorcists are rare. They purify corrupted lands and labyrinths where undead and cursed monsters dwell. Dangerous work. Often lonely. But the pay is generous—thirty gold coins a month, possibly more depending on your rank and performance."
Cassian's heart skipped.
Thirty gold coins… With that, I could buy a small house. I could finally have a place of my own. A home.
"I choose the path of the Exorcist," he said, a quiet fire lighting in his eyes.
Garven smiled, as if he had expected that answer.
He opened the cabinet and retrieved a folded robe, handing it to Cassian with careful hands. It was beautiful—white with silver threads woven through it, the trim glowing softly with green runes. A cross pendant was placed in his palm next.
"This is your ceremonial Exorcist robe. Made with holy silver threads and divine enchantments. Only wear it during sacred duties. Damage it, and you'll owe ninety platinum coins."
Cassian stared at the robe like it was a sacred relic. "Ninety platinum…?"
Garven handed him a second robe. Simpler, but still elegant.
"This one is for daily use. You'll represent the Church of Lumina wherever you go. Do not bring shame to your name."
Then, with a final nod, Garven added, "Your duties begin tomorrow. Nine in the morning sharp. Do not be late."
Cassian bowed. "Yes, sir."
As he followed another silent priest toward the corridor leading to his assigned room, the tightness in his chest began to ease just a little. He wasn't dead. He wasn't being punished. He had a new path.
I can do this… I think.
But just as he reached the turn to his quarters, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Cassian."
He turned, startled.
His eyes widened.
That voice… it couldn't be—
—To be continued.