"I've seen him before," Zaccaria said.Both of them looked at him."Where," Riccardo asked."Before the sermon. Two days ago. He was walking through the old quarter near a curio shop. He had someone with him. A woman.""What kind of woman," Valentina asked."High-ranking religious disciple," Zaccaria said. "The robes, the bearing, the way people moved out of her way. She wasn't ordinary clergy."Riccardo went still. The kind of still that meant the pieces behind his eyes were clicking into place."A death energy user," Riccardo said slowly, "walking with a high-ranking disciple. With the power to shatter S-rank mental influence using his voice alone. With access to what appeared to be an entire toolkit of skills that don't fit any standard player build.""What are you saying," Valentina asked."I'm saying he's the Prophet's hidden disciple," Riccardo said. "That's the only explanation that fits. The Prophet has been grooming someone in secret. Someone with power that operates outside

"What does that mean for us," Valentina asked. Her voice came out thin."It means I have what I need from this conversation," Davide said.He turned toward Zaccaria's unconscious body on the floor.Then he summoned The Heavens Honor.The weapon materialized in his right hand with a sound that wasn't quite metal and wasn't quite wind. Something between the two, like a blade being drawn from the fabric of existence itself. The sword gleamed with a light that hurt to look at directly, its edge humming with an energy that made the air in the basement taste like static.Riccardo saw it first."What are you doing," he asked, his voice dropping to something barely controlled.Davide walked to Zaccaria's body. He knelt beside the unconscious player, positioned The Heavens Honor over his chest, and drove the blade downward.The sword sank into Zaccaria's body without resistance. Not cutting flesh. Passing through it. Reaching for something deeper than muscle and bone.Zaccaria's body convulsed

"A soul attack paired with death energy," Davide said quietly. "That's a kill shot against anything with a soul."[Skill copied: Thousands Soul Destroyer (A-rank)]Valentina's pool was last.He read through her abilities carefully, taking more time than he'd taken with the others. Most of her skills were variations on emotional manipulation, different flavors of the same fundamental ability to reach inside someone's mind and rearrange what they felt.But one skill sat at the top of her pool, glowing with the unmistakable brightness of an S-rank designation."[Enchanter of Hearts]," Davide said. "S-rank. Full emotional manipulation. Plant doubt. Amplify fear. Create loyalty. Redirect anger. Works on individuals or crowds. Scales with the user's understanding of the target's psychological structure."He stared at the description for a long time.This wasn't a combat skill. This was a political weapon. The ability to manipulate emotions on an individual or crowd scale was invaluable for e

"Everyone has business inside," the guard said. "Move or I'll move you."Davide considered forcing his way through. The guard's hand on his chest felt like a leaf pressing against a mountain. One step forward and the man would break like furniture.But drawing attention here, in front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses, was the wrong kind of move.He was about to turn away when a voice cut through the crowd."Davide!"He turned.Aureo pushed through the mass of pilgrims with the practiced ease of someone whose armor and rank created space automatically. The knight reached him in seconds, one hand on his sword hilt, his face carrying the warm recognition of someone genuinely happy to see a familiar face in chaos."I thought I might find you out here," Aureo said. "Come. You're with me."He turned to the guard. "This man is my companion. He enters with me."The guard looked at Aureo's insignia, recognized the rank, and stepped aside without another word.They passed through the gates

Then the Prophet looked away. He continued his walk to the golden cushion as if nothing had happened.But something had happened. Something significant. The Prophet had tried to read Davide's mind and had been blocked. And the fact that he'd been blocked had told him something about Davide that interested him.The Prophet sat on the golden cushion and began to speak.His voice hit the hall like a wave. Not loud. Not forceful. But resonant in a way that vibrated inside the chest and behind the eyes and in the spaces between thoughts where resistance usually lived.Every word was perfect. Every sentence carried meaning that seemed to reach inside each listener and find exactly the thing they needed to hear. Followers wept openly. Some trembled. Some clasped their hands together so tightly their knuckles went white, their faces twisted with the agony of being in the presence of something they believed was divine."He's magnificent," Aureo whispered beside him, tears streaming down his fa