Extra's Perfect Ending

Chapter 123: Savior

Hilda halted the moment she saw the priest. It was clear she hadn’t expected him to be there.

This should have been a moment of joy for the people — and for some, it was. But Hilda felt a sudden sense of danger. There was something more to this.

"Stop!" she shouted, her voice straining to reach the ears of those running toward the gate. But the priest blinded them. If Hilda was the light at the end of their tunnel, then the priest was like the sun breaking through the darkest night.

She reached out, trying to grab hold of someone, but they slipped away, running faster.

"For freedom!" they screamed with all their might. "Your Holiness, please help us escape this place! We are trapped!"

They raced toward the gates, using every ounce of energy their frail bodies could muster. As soon as they began to shout, the guards turned their heads and witnessed a horrific sight: a swarm of skinny, malnourished people rushing toward the gate. The guards raised their spears, ready to push them back.

"Guards! Lower your spears!"

One of the priests stepped forward, raising his hand. Pulling down his hood, he revealed a middle-aged man with a wide smile, wearing small, round glasses perched on his nose, helping him peer out from beneath heavy brows.

The guards immediately retracted their spears and bowed their heads to the priest. Hilda couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she felt a cold shiver run through her; it wasn’t good. The man’s smile grew wider as he finished speaking with the guards.

"Please, Father, save us! We were captured and enslaved!" shouted one of the men racing toward the gate. They were so close now, nearly at the metallic fence that promised freedom. The priest could almost touch them, and they could almost smell the scent of liberty — a scent long lost to them.

"Stop!" Hilda commanded again, but no one seemed to hear. Even if she had managed to halt them, it might have been too late. The middle-aged priest’s smile twisted into something sinister, his eyes scanning the escaped prisoners.

A chill ran down Hilda’s spine as she watched him

No, that’s not a priest...

The thought ran through Hilda’s mind as the prisoners suddenly froze. Their eyes turned bloodshot, and their skin grew redder. Muscles began to swell, bulging grotesquely, as if they were about to burst from their bodies.

The sight reminded Hilda of someone she knew all too well. This kind of power could only belong to one person — the blood mystic, Tula.

How...?

That was always the question whenever he reappeared. Reeva had said that the blood mystic could control people, but Hilda suspected it went beyond that. For a third-circle mystic, he seemed to have an uncanny ability to cheat death. This was the third time he had managed to "revive."

There had to be more to it. Maybe Reeva’s knowledge of Tula’s powers was too limited.

But that didn’t matter right now. Almost half of the prisoners had turned into muscle-bound monstrosities, while the other half stood paralyzed in fear.

"I just came back from the church, and look what I found," Tula sneered. "A rat causing a little riot in my house."

"What… what is this…?"

Terror gripped the skinny man Hilda had first rescued. Thankfully, he hadn’t turned into one of the monsters — but now he had to face them.

Teeth ground together, creating a horrible scraping noise. Hilda realized how dire their situation had become. She thought she was doing something good, but it had turned into a disaster. Freedom had been within reach for so many, but now their bodies were mutating into horrific forms.

Upon seeing the blood monsters, Theia felt a deep pang of guilt and sadness. If she hadn’t led these people out, would any of this have happened?

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She couldn’t have known. She didn’t have the foresight to see that the blood mystic was still alive or that the people would be transformed into monsters.

Now, she needed foresight on how to get out of here. Her thoughts turned to Yurdle the Turtle — the perfect tool for an escape. But she also needed to find a way to separate the normal prisoners from those who had been transformed.

Hilda’s mind was in turmoil too, trying to process what had happened and what to do next. Her eyes locked onto Tula. Every time she killed him, he came back, no matter how or when she tried. She desperately wanted to end this once and for all, but she didn’t know how.

The man is more resilient than a cockroach.

But she couldn’t focus on that now. Her priorities shifted. As much as she wanted to save these people, she couldn’t sacrifice herself. She still had a mission to complete.

"Miss Theia, the turtle," she whispered urgently.

"Now?" Theia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You want to leave them behind? What about the speech earlier? Was it a lie?"

Her voice trembled, unsure of where to stand. Her thoughts churned — had they given the prisoners hope only to abandon them at the first sign of resistance?

"It wasn’t a lie," Hilda replied, a hint of anger lacing her words. "But we are not prepared for this. We were never meant to do this, and we cannot kill Tula right now."

"But…"

"We’re getting out of here," Hilda insisted. "The church will handle this. Tula can’t hide from this commotion."

"What if the church is on his side?" Theia challenged.

"Then all the more reason to leave now," Hilda said. "We can’t rely on the church, and we can’t win on our own. Even dealing with two of these monsters took everything we had. What can we possibly do against all of this?"

Theia hesitated, unable to respond. Hilda was right. They weren’t ready to face Tula — not now. But in her heart they were the same people as her, suffering inside a big mansion. However, they didn’t have the option to get out while he could.