The streets of the capital remained eerily silent as Lucian and his comrades emerged from the cathedral, their breath visible in the cold night air. The adrenaline from their confrontation with Father Marcellus was wearing off, replaced by an uneasy tension that hung heavy in the group.
Selene wiped the sweat from her brow, her gaze sweeping over the deserted streets. "We can't stay here," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their hurried footsteps. "The city will be crawling with inquisitors soon. We need to find a safe place to regroup."
Lucian nodded, his mind still racing from the events in the sanctum. Marcellus was dead, but the church's grip on the kingdom was far from broken. The Judgment Flame might have been stopped for now, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the church attempted another dark ritual. They needed to act quickly, to consolidate their forces and strike before the church could recover.