Novel & Cerita The Red Priest

The man suddenly stopped talking. That was it? Silence and then a choking noise. Vinx walked forward and the wall crumbled, there the priest was, in a red robe. I walked forward on auto pilot, my legs had carried me. The man was sitting on a chair and his head was resting on the wall. " High priest?." Kalum asked and he held on to the man's hood, he pulled it down slowly and a bat flew out. I didn't take my eyes off the face of the male, his skin was blushish and this wasn't because he was now dead, that was it's natural colour.

He was taking appropriate measures as the situation called for without fear. At this moment, Cole came over angrily, put his hands on his hips, and looked at the white-robed priest. “Who the hell are you? Who gave you permission to even step foot inside Yorks Stronghold?!” The priest shot him a vicious gaze, and Cole felt as if he had been electrocuted. He felt uncomfortable.

He got what he deserved, and that was all that mattered. After five minutes, the priest arrived wearing a white outfit as he held on to the white staff. Everything on him was white, including his hair and the rings on his nose and ears. It was so unsettling. "Greetings to the next Alphas of the Blood Moon Pack," he whispered. I nodded once. "Greetings, priest,’ I mumbled simply. He sat down on the black tiled carpet in the middle of Raven and me. I couldn’t believe the way that he seemed so collected despite losing an Alpha. Maybe, like me, he knew that father was a fucking monster and didn’t deserve one ounce of sympathy.

Of Castellanos blood. And then I stop. A man stares back at me from the canvas. He’s younger than many of the others. Late thirties, maybe. His hair is long, tied loosely at the nape of his neck. His face is austere—almost severe—but not cruel. Just… resolute. Like someone who has made a hard choice and will carry the burden of it to the grave. Something about his eyes makes my skin prickle. Beneath the portrait: Azrael Castellanos, 34th Priest. Alpha of the Moon’s Grace. The One Who Sealed the Dark Mage.

They passionately stared at Ares, who transformed into a human form. "It's really the High Priest! It turns out that the High Priest is a dragon! No wonder he can predict the Holy Maiden! He and the Holy Maiden are a match made in heaven!" "What Klaus? What Orion? No matter how exceptional they are, they are no match for a dragon! Holy Maiden, they probably found out the Dragon Clan was coming and chickened out!" Some excited Beastfolk had already started jumping to conclusions. I watched and did not stop them. I thought, 'Aren't Klaus and the others waiting for me to beg them? Let us see who begs whom.'

Authority clung to him like a second skin—unhurried, heavy, unarguable. Boots. The soft scrape of soles over stone. The faint leather creak of a tailored coat. He stopped just inside the circle of fallen candles. “Report,” he said. The word was quiet, but it settled over the room with more weight than the gunshots. One of the men snapped to attention. “Perimeter secure. No signals out. Target group contained. Moderate resistance. The priest reached for a weapon. Neutralized.” Neutralized. That’s what they called Coren’s body bleeding out on the floor.

His cassock was splattered with crimson, but he stood perfectly still, his posture unbothered, as if he were simply admiring the architecture of the bloodbath. Krystal's breath caught in her throat. She has never seen him before. She do come to this church dozens of times over the past few weeks, confessing her sins to the faceless voice behind the screen, never once laying eyes on the priest who had heard her darkest secrets. But now, seeing him standing amidst the chaos, something stirred in the back of her mind. He is familiar. Why does he look familiar? she thought, her brow furrowing. I've never seen his face.

Confess her sins maybe? It was only now that she had gotten close enough to get a good look at the priest on the alter. He looked young, perhaps somewhere between his early to late twenties. He wore a black cassock, along with a silver cross dangling over his chest. He had slightly curly dark brown hair and dark eyes. She found yourself immediately drawn to him. He had this angelic, yet somehow dark, powerful aura all around him and in the words he spoke. She listened intently as he preached the words of God, his voice deep and serious

He also looked at Damon’s hand on the door handle so Damon immediately let go of the handle and walked away slightly. “Aren’t you a thief?” the priest asked. “Because there is nothing in your face that will do evil.” “Ah, we are not thieves. We are just looking for something,” said Raven. “Looking for something?” the priest asked. The four approached the priest, who was still standing nearby. “Then maybe I can help.” The hunters looked at each other. “He’s a priest. He believes in demons.” Damon whispered. “So, shall we tell him about the blood?” Kyra whispered.