The room erupted.
The side chamber inside Alta's temple was no longer a place of prayer. It became a storm of shouting voices, horrified disbelief, and panic.
"It cannot be!"
"The relic must be wrong!"
"A holy relic being wrong? Blasphemy!"
"But does that mean he's a noble vampire?"
"By the Dawn…"
Teclos remained seated with the Cross of Truth still locked in his hands, the thorns refusing to let go as they pierced through his palms. His face was pale from pain, but despite that, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Their reaction was almost worth it, if it was not for those goddamn thorns.
Regulus, on the other hand, did not shout. He stood still, one hand resting on the hilt of his claymore, his eyes shining with golden light as they remained fixed on the Cross.
The bishops stared at the relic like they had been betrayed. They might have even interacted with the vampire, judging by their expressions.
