You open the door of your temple carefully, already knowing what you will see on the threshold. And make no mistaken - the body of the heretic is waiting on the threshold again, surprisingly neatly killed. It started a couple of months ago - "gifts", waiting on the steps of the temple every morning. Sometimes they were accompanied by something else, like scarlet camellias, carefully cleaned bones...

At first it was surprising and stressful. Among your followers there were few who actually knew how to fight. But those who were capable of such cold-blooded, neat murder? You could count them on one hand, and most of them were from among your disciples. And if your disciples would not do something like that...

From the side, you feel derisive gaze of Narinder’s blood-scarlet eyes, standing so that he is almost invisible in the shadow of the trees.