"No, you're wrong! It's not like that!" Huberto's body trembled, his face a maelstrom of conflict, confusion, and struggle. He roared in fury, "It is Dawn who gives us hope! It is He who dispels the darkness and gives the world light! It is—"
"Lord of Judgment!"
The golden-winged Priest, Pavla, snapped out of her shock and gasped, her eyes wide.
She had already noticed something was terribly wrong with Huberto. More alarmingly, a streak of blood had appeared on the golden greatsword in his hand. As it was continuously stained with the blood of the Holy Professionals, the streak slowly began to transform into a deep, profound black...
'What is this?!'
"Blasphemy... You're falling?! Lord of Judgment, you... you—"
'How could this heretic, with just a few words, cause a zealot of Dawn to doubt himself—to the point where his very faith was shaken?!'
