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Splash, splash.
The ominous footsteps of the clergymen approaching could be heard even in the pelting rain. Their pointed fingers looked threatening, it was as if they could pierce through our bodies at any moment. There was no thought of ‘Should I fight?’ or ‘Should I run?’ when we saw them. There was only fear.
When I stormed the Satanists’ hideout to save Ji-Ah, I saw numerous taxidermied creatures. However, I didn't feel scared because they were fakes made by sewing together the skins of the dead to resemble humans. Despite their grotesque appearance, they had only been discomforting, not terrifying.
"Why would you break the glass?"
"I can't understand. This is why kids these days..."
"Of all people, the Florence Academy? Again?"
"People from the Florence Academy are all arrogant. All the people I hated were from there."
The figures approaching me now were clearly humans. Just moments ago, people who had been talking and even laughing with each other lost their sanity and gained hatred through the influence of the Satanists' black magic.
Hatred made them curse and attacked each other with the intent to kill. And now, their fingers were pointed at us. Their abstract hatred for us started to turn more concrete. Alongside discomfort, fear arose. Their hatred controlled where they went. Watching them act driven by anger, I began to wonder how different I was from them.
[Don't worry. The mere black magic of a Satanist has no power over the Prophet,] Legba said.
He was right. Carrying dozens of Loa on my back, I couldn't be affected by black magic even if I wanted...
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