Chapter Three

Death row was on the third basement level.

Elena was thrown onto a pile of straw next to me. She'd been sick for two days.

I could hear her heartbeat growing weaker and weaker, like a candle about to go out.

"Water..."

Her lips were cracked, her voice barely a thread.

I brought the only remaining half bowl of dirty water to her lips. She didn't even have the strength to swallow.

Outside the cell were dozens of other "heretics."

An old blacksmith with a cane, charged with "privately possessing heretical books," but it was really just an ancient medical text.

And a seven or eight-year-old blind flower girl, accused of "blindness being a demon's curse."

She curled up in a corner, crying constantly: "I'm not a monster... I'm not..."

No one paid attention to her.

The Church needed results. They needed to use these "heretics'" corpses to prove to the people that they were "purifying the world."

As for the truth?

Who cared.

I looked at Elena's pale face, a metallic sweetness rising in my throat.

I bit my finger, blood dripping onto her lips.

Pure royal blood could heal any injury, even bring someone back from the brink of death.

But Elena pushed my hand away.

"Don't..." she said weakly. "You'll be exposed..."

"I don't care."

"I care."

She grabbed my wrist, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Rand, promise me... live... like an ordinary person..."

I said nothing.

Because I knew she was right.

Just like my adoptive father...

But was identity really that important?

For eighteen years, I drank holy water to suppress my instincts. I studied medicine to save people. I lived like an ordinary person.

But now...

"Drip."

A drop of blood fell on the ground.

Black flames instantly ignited, dancing in the darkness.

I stared at that black fire, my fingers trembling.

My adoptive father's voice echoed in my mind:

"Kindness is more important than bloodline."

I closed my eyes.

Once again, I extinguished the flames.

...

Execution day.

At 5 AM, the cell door was kicked open.

Holy knights rushed in, dragging all the prisoners out with thorn chains.

The old blacksmith's leg was broken. The blind girl was thrown into an iron cage. The mother holding her baby knelt and begged, but was kicked over.

Elena couldn't even stand up.

I held her, letting the knights whip my back.

In the Cathedral Plaza, one hundred thousand fanatical believers had already gathered.

They held torches, shouting slogans of "purify the heretics," their eyes full of madness and excitement.

In the center of the plaza stood thirty burning stakes.

The cardinal stood on a high platform, wearing his gold-trimmed red robe, a benevolent smile on his face.

"My people!"

He raised his scepter, his voice carried across the plaza by the church bells.

"Today, we will purify thirty heretics! Let them repent in holy fire, let their souls find redemption!"

The crowd erupted in cheers.

The first to be tied to the stake was the blind girl.

She cried and shouted: "I'm not a monster... I just can't see..."

The cardinal smiled and lit the holy fire.

Flames instantly engulfed her.

Her screams tore through the entire plaza, but the crowd only cheered more excitedly.

Next was the old blacksmith.

Tied to the post, he used his last strength to roar: "You'll all go to hell!"

The flames swallowed his voice.

One after another.

Disabled elderly, young mothers, innocent children.

They wailed in holy fire, dying in despair.

And the cardinal maintained that benevolent smile throughout, as if doing something incredibly sacred.

I held Elena, biting my lip hard.

Blood dripped down my chin, igniting small black fires on the ground.

I extinguished them again and again.

Kyle walked up to me, a vicious smile on his face:

"Your turn now."

He grabbed Elena and tied her to the stake.

Elena had no strength left to resist. She just looked at me, her eyes full of tears.

"Rand..." she said weakly. "Next life... I want to meet you again..."

Kyle lit the torch with a cold laugh.

Flames licked at the dry grass at the base of the post.

Thick smoke began to rise.

Elena closed her eyes.

I looked at her, remembering those innocent civilians turning to ash in the flames.

Looking at the cardinal's benevolent smile.

Looking at the fanatical believers' crazed eyes.

My nails pierced into my palms.

Blood dripped.

Black flames ignited on the ground.

The intense pain made me somewhat delirious.

If the humans I was trying to become were such beasts.

Then what difference was there between being human and being a demon...