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The two spoke as though they were old acquaintances exchanging idle pleasantries after a long separation. But their clash had begun long before either caught sight of the other's form.
First came a soft crack. From the sheath at his waist, the white-haired youth drew a dagger identical in shape to the one he once handed to Damian of the Lightless Order, save that this one was noticeably larger. Its blade was etched with far more intricate markings, each containing a mind sealed within. The number of minds imprisoned here was exponentially greater.
"Why not save yourself the trouble of trying to stop me? After all the precautions you've taken against me, wouldn't it be a shame if you didn't even let me make the attempt?"
A faint smile tugged at the youth's lips. His tone was light, almost teasing. His aim was simple: to drive this god-slaying dagger into the being known as the God of Light, and complete what he had come here to do.
"That won't do. As the Pope of the Church of the God of Light, I cannot allow a heretic...
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