Hellsing Priest Novels & Stories

“I was her brother. The last of the original bloodbound. I watched her fall, and I’ve watched you rise.” John’s hand drifted toward the dagger at his waist, but the priest shook his head. “There is no blade that can stop what’s coming, not unless you first look beneath your skin.” Before Sarah could speak, the priest took a single step forward and placed his palm against her chest just over her heart. The talisman she carried flared violently in response. Images raced through her mind in flashes, Seraphina in white robes, a burning altar; a newborn with eyes glowing red, a beast trapped beneath a temple sealed in blood.

“The High Priests sought a body strong enough to bear the weight of forbidden rites, flesh resilient enough to house their vengeance. She was chosen, groomed, shaped by their hands. Every drop of power she wields does not come from blood, but from curses etched into her bones. She is not any heir...she is a weapon of destruction.” Kale’s growl rumbled low, fury trembling in his chest. “So she was never my blood.” The priest dared to glance at his direction. “Never, and will never be. She is an imposter wrapped in lies, used by those who hate your line. Every ritual she performs bleeds the empire’s venom further into Ravenfall.” I seized his chin, forcing him to face me. “Prove it, prove that

His face was hidden beneath a cowl, but I saw his hands move confidently, arranging bowls of ash and small vials of jeweled liquids. I stood before him, cloak undone to reveal the braided strands of my hair, the sharp angles of my cheekbones, the faint tremor in my hands. Despite the danger—and perhaps because of it, I felt every nerve alive. Tonight was the night I would change my fate. The priest looked up slowly, his voice a rasp that echoed in the chamber. “Sebastian Riggs,” he intoned, “you seek to perform a severing ritual of great power.” He looked up at me, eyes bright in the torchlight. “You understand what you ask?” he murmured. His voice was a rasp, as if he spoke through centurie

He drew a strange sign over his chest and bowed in worship. Barnabas grew visibly impatient. What nonsense was this? With a swift kick, he sent the priest flying. The poor man immediately coughed up blood, likely suffering multiple broken bones. Two nearby junior clergy panicked and rushed forward. "Father!" One kneeled beside the injured priest, helplessly trying to support him. The other glared at Barnabas and roared, "You demons! The Lord will cast you into hell!" Demons? Hell? The Lord? What kind of nonsense were they spouting?

Alaric nodded slightly as I took up position again at his side. The priest lifted his hands again, beginning to chant in the old tongue. The pull of the bond glowed a richer gold, responding to the holy call. I fought to breathe as usual, fought not to feel the burden of all the things that pressed upon me—my past, my lies, my terror. And the priest stopped. His voice was trapped in his throat, the chant broken. The energy within the room stopped. He blinked, his eyes sharpening on me as if he saw something I did not.

Fuck! “My name is Kellina and I am the Crimson Priestess.”

She half-heartedly expected her prayer to work. Instead of the pain, she felt a warm liquid gush on her face. 'What?' She opened her eyes to see the man she had bumped into twice today. More importantly, he held the demon's head in his hand. "You kill...ed it." "Indeed." He responded, throwing her ID in front of her. "When praying to incur your wrath, you do not pray to either god, angels, or demons. You pray to the devil," he said as the moonlight shined upon white hair.

Both of them looked worn out, however, Aurum had fallen to the ground while the priest was still standing. The priest looked at Aurum's furious face which had no redeeming qualities. He raised his arm and chanted the spell. Blinding white light emerged and shot out of his hand before engulfing Aurum. With the last shred of energy left, Aurum used it all to cast a deadly spell that collided with the priest's energy and caused a loud explosion.

"Move, old man. You’re sitting in my chair." "You are cursed! You brought a Southern demon into the holy house!" The Priest pointed a trembling finger at Noah. "He wore the dress of a Queen while he plotted our ruin! He is a spy! A liar!" Noah stepped forward. He reached up and unlatched his helmet. He let it fall. It clattered against the marble. "I'm the man who kept him alive while you tried to burn him," Noah said. "Blasphemy!" The Priest turned to the guards. "Kill them! Kill the monster and his whore!"

Damien’s POV: Just before Sera could answer, the big doors of the ceremonial hall are swung open. The priest walked in, he was dressed in black. He is one of the few men I still trust. He looked calm, but he was worried. He looked at Sera and his face softened with concern. Then he looked at me and gave me a nod that said; “I see the mess you’ve created.” “Ready?” he asked softly. Sera jumped and grabbed her dress.