In the name of the Eternal Remnant I will banish Evil

It's been days since the trail of the Brown-Eyed Demon went cold. Mandisa was honestly bored; even their agents in all the villages hadn't seen this man enter. She was in the village she had chosen, sitting in a restaurant, eating some food, and looking for information. She had separated from her team, each of them investigating a different village that the Demon might have gone to. She listened to what people talked about in the restaurant.

"Did you hear that Acolyte's sermon a few days ago? He made me want to join the Citadel."

"Yeah, now I know what the Citadel is all about. We should go sign up to help where we can."

All she could hear was some gossip about a Citadel Acolyte. It seemed that the Demon was not here.

---

Mhlengi was having a blast. They were temporarily living in the village that was just attacked by Dire Hyenas. They had to wait for word from the agents if the Demon showed its head, but for now, there was no trouble to be had. He was free to roam around the village and didn't have to spend all his hours with his superior. He appreciated Yara, but he was a bit of a perfectionist, and Mhlengi felt immense pressure from him. He couldn't act like himself around the Priest. Priest Yara was thin and delicate-looking, almost frail, but Mhlengi knew that Yara was not to be underestimated. He was very dangerous and had immense political power, rivaling even his superiors.

The village was livelier than ever; the streets were bustling. Construction was going on all around the city, and the people looked a lot better. There were no beggars at shop doors; everyone was busy. The Church building was finished, and it was amazing. They had only been there for a few days and had made this much progress. Mhlengi now had to rethink Yara's influence; his words could turn a struggling village into a bustling city with just a few commands. He was in awe of such power.

The people of the village were eating better, and they had jobs. Important infrastructure was being built everywhere. It was amazing, and Yara was a genius. As the people were happy, more came to donate to the church; they were slowly seeing the light of the Codex. Mhlengi learned from this. Yara was not losing anything with this kindness; he instantly cultivated allies and believers.

"Is this how you win over the masses?" Mhlengi was impressed. The money Yara invested would come back after some time. People moved better now with roads all around. There was incredible order. Even the Guardians patrolled the streets. Crime was at an all-time low, and the city thrived in a few days. Was Yara even human? It was like he was bending the winds to his will. Yara was to be feared; he was a chess master.

People came every day to thank him. They were pleased with his arrival. More and more people attended Church sermons and learned about the Codex. The beggars in the streets were beggars no more; they were functioning citizens.

---

Yara felt as if a weight was being lifted off him. He couldn't stay in a place this filthy; he had to fix it. His intention was not to help but to ease his mind. The city had order now; it had a system that worked. He could sleep better now.

Yara was very ambitious; his goal was to become an elder of the church, and he was well on his way to that goal. He just had to find the Demon and raise his reputation. Not finding the Demon yet frustrated him, but after some thought, it was not really a bad thing. The more the Demon ran wild and gained fame, the more rewards he would receive after capturing them. This lifted yet another burden that was weighing on him; he was now relaxed and planting flowers. It was his hobby; he liked gardening. The smell of soil and plants calmed him, especially flowers. They were a beautiful creation, bringing color to a grey, dark world, and they smelled nice.

Things were going well. If he found and captured the Demon, he would inch closer to his goal. In a way, the Demon was his benefactor.

---

Today was the day. As an assassin of the Defiant, Nkalashi was preparing for the perfect mission. He had been monitoring the target for a while now. He was confident in his success; he was one of the best, known for his clean work. To be honest, this was an easy job. This Acolyte was an idiot, a glutton, a sloth, and he didn't behave like an Acolyte. He was careless and ignorant; Nkalashi was sure he would capture this man easily and be home for dinner. Although this man was a fool, he did have a way with words; he brought more people to the church than Priests did. Nkalashi even heard that he might be promoted to Chaplain at this rate; he was too good. So tonight, he had to be stopped. It was a shame; such a talent to inspire had to fall at the hands of the church.

Nkalashi began to prepare, he would not be going in alone in case things go wrong. But they honestly didn't need three people to kill this man. Tonight the Acolyte has been drinking non stop, he will soon pass out and go to sleep. That would be the best time to strike.

Indeed as they hid and monitered the Acolyte from within the Church Propety, he was dead drunk and being helped to his room by a novice, the time to strike would be soon.

---

Mandla just put down Sizwe, he had been drinking a lot these day. Was he drinking so much because he has feeling bad of being the lair that he is? Mandla was in a dilemma, he wanted to know about the old world, thus he followed Sizwe, but he didn't know someone could be so shameless. After the fight with the evolved Hyena, Sizwe went into the Church Branch and stole all the things that belonged to the Acolytes and their uniform. They left the village with Sizwe already in disguise, the whole way Sizwe familiarized himself with the Codex and asked so many questions. Mandla thought that he was finally seeing the error of his ways and was really joining the church.

Boy was he wrong. Sizwe did all that to milk the very church that put a bounty on him and called it his revenge. He even went as far as to preach the Codex a few times in the square and he brought people to the Lord. It was a spectacle, Sizwe knew what to say to make people do what he wanted. He received many donations with this and the church was getting believers like never before. They were even considering promoting him to Chaplain. Thinking about Sizwe being promoted before him made him a little mad. Sizwe was pretending while he was a devoted believer, life was indeed not fair.

Although Sizwe was shameless and very manipulative, he took care of him. He shared his riches and the benefits with him. It was nice of Sizwe to treat him well, that why he took care of him, and even lead him to his bed as he was passed out drunk.

---

After a few minutes, Nkalashi and his comrades watched the Novice leave. It was now time to act, but they had to be careful. It was an in and out job, they were still within the church branch, if caught they could die. Nkalashi and his comrades arrived at the door and it was not even locked. This was so easy.

Sizwe lay sprawled on the narrow bed in his room at the church branch, a half-empty bottle of wine clutched loosely in one hand. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a single candle, casting long shadows on the walls. To any observer, he appeared utterly drunk, his robes disheveled, eyes half-closed, and breaths heavy and uneven.

The door creaked open slowly, and three shadowy figures slipped inside, moving with the silence of predators. These were assassins from The Defiant, their mission clear: kill the acolyte who had drawn the ire of their order. They exchanged quick glances, then the leader nodded, signaling them to proceed.

One of the assassins, a wiry man with a cruel glint in his eyes, approached the bed first. He leaned over Sizwe, his movements cautious, as he extended a gloved hand to cover Sizwe's mouth. He pressed down firmly, intending to smother him quietly.

In an instant, Sizwe's eyes snapped open, revealing a gleam of cold sobriety. His free hand moved with deadly speed, a hidden dagger flashing out from his sleeve. The blade plunged into the wiry man's throat, silencing his gasp with a wet gurgle. The assassin's body slumped lifelessly to the floor, blood pooling around him.

The other two assassins froze, shock and fear etched across their faces. Sizwe rose from the bed, his movements fluid and unhurried, like a predator unmasking itself. He wiped the blood from his dagger onto his sleeve, a mocking grin spreading across his face.

The remaining assassins exchanged a quick, desperate look. One of them lunged forward, brandishing a dagger. Sizwe sidestepped effortlessly, catching the assailant's wrist and twisting it until the weapon clattered to the floor. A swift punch to the gut sent the assassin sprawling backward, gasping for breath.

"Kill him!" the leader hissed, his voice tight with panic.

Sizwe's eyes flicked to the leader. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the fallen dagger spinning through the air. It found its mark in the second assassin's chest, who let out a choked cry and collapsed in a heap.

Sizwe's smirk danced on his lips as he surveyed the scene. He'd played the role of the drunken fool perfectly, luring them in, only to strike with lethal precision. Now, with the assassins dispatched, he allowed himself to revel in the performance of his adopted persona. Only the leader remained.

He took a deep breath, his voice rising in a fervent, zealous cadence. "Behold the fate of the heretic!" he declared, his words echoing off the walls. "These lost souls dared to defy the will of the Eternal Remnant, believing they could silence me, extinguish our light. But here they lie, testament to the divine justice that guides my hand!"

His noise grabbed the attention of the other Acolytes and men of God. They came out to witness the scene with shock.

Sizwe raised his arms in a gesture of righteous indignation, his face a mask of fervent conviction. "We are the chosen instruments of the Eternal Remnant," he proclaimed. "The holy guardians against the forces of chaos and corruption! It is our sacred duty to cleanse this world of impurity, to root out those who stray from the righteous path and embrace the darkness of heresy."

He stepped forward, standing tall, every inch the zealous acolyte he pretended to be, Nkalashi was between a rock and a hard place, all he could do is step back into the outside as Sizwe slowly followed.

"For every heretic that rises against us, there shall be tenfold retribution! We are the sword of judgment, the shield of purity! Our hands are blessed with the power to strike down those who oppose the divine order."

His eyes flashed as he looked back at the fallen assassins, his voice growing more intense. "These wretched souls sought to drown us in darkness, to destroy our sacred mission. But they have failed, for the Eternal Remnant stands with us! With each drop of heretic blood spilled, we purify this world, we pave the way for a future where only the faithful thrive."

Nkalashi was disgusted by these words, he knew the church was more horrible than they seem and they dare claim the high ground. What hypocricy. His face twisted with anger.

Sizwe continued, the night seemed to hum with his fervor, the words resonating in the air. "We are divine retribution," he continued, his tone shifting to one of grand prophecy. "The harbingers of a new era, where truth and light shall reign supreme. The heretics will tremble before us, their whispers silenced by our righteous fury! Stand with me as we march towards a world purified of dissent, a world where the Eternal Remnant's glory shines unchallenged!"

He lowered his arms, his expression calm yet resolute, embodying the relentless zeal of a true believer. "Let this be a lesson to all who dare oppose us," he said softly, yet with an edge of steel. "There is no escape from divine judgment. We are the wrath of the Eternal Remnant, and in their name, we shall banish evil from this world."

The leader, driven by a mix of fear and rage, drew a short sword and charged. Sizwe met him head-on, his own dagger flashing in the dim light. The yard filled with the clang of metal against metal, each strike precise and deadly as the others watched the scen with interest.

"The Eternal Remnant judges all," Sizwe intoned, his voice dripping with a twisted mockery of piety. "And tonight, you face hìs wrath!"

Their blades clashed in a flurry of sparks, but Sizwe was relentless. With a swift, brutal maneuver, he disarmed the leader, sending the sword skittering across the ground. He shoved the man against the wall of his dwelling, pressing his dagger to the assassin's throat.

"You're just a drunk fool!" the leader spat, struggling against Sizwe's iron grip.

"A fool?" Sizwe's grin widened, eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "Perhaps. But a fool blessed with the wisdom to see through your pathetic scheme."

He pressed the dagger deeper, a trickle of blood tracing a line down the leader's neck. "May the Eternal Remnant have mercy on your soul," he whispered, his voice a chilling whisper, "for I shall not."

With a final, decisive slash, Sizwe cut the leader's throat. The body slumped to the floor, joining the others in a growing pool of blood. Sizwe stepped back, surveying the scene with a satisfied smirk.

Wiping his dagger clean, he sheathed it with a practiced motion.

"Acolyte life does have its perks," he murmured to himself, his eyes glinting with dark humor.

With a final, chilling smile, Sizwe turned away from the scene, his heart pounding with a blend of adrenaline and dark satisfaction. The act was complete, and the performance of his role flawless, a testament to his determination to outmaneuver the very church he sought to bring down.

Tonight, he had outwitted his enemies. He was the acolyte who delivered divine retribution, playing his role with a chilling blend of cunning and zeal.