Before he realized it, he could no longer hear the yells of his pursuers anymore. Had they finally given up? Hidden behind one of the trashcans on the street, Eulis breathed a sigh of relief.
"Am I... saved?" Eulis' voice wavered from his cold lips as he suffered in the frigid air. The youth looked up into the cloudy sky. It had been snowing since sundown. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve, and it looked like it was going to be a white Christmas. The dark streets were as quiet as a ghost town, and the shadows cast by the lamps lay lonely on the stone cobbles.
How much had they ruined this town?
Eulis had only planned to check the situation out and then withdraw. So he had sneaked out of the safe house. But in less than half an hour, he had been spotted and chased. If this town's geography hadn't been wrapped up in such darkness, then he would have been captured long ago.
"So, what do I do now?" Eulis asked the snow, tears welling in his eyes.
They ruled Tallinn by fear, and under the banner of "charity," they took the wealth of the citizens. If things continued, it was not hard to imagine that many people wouldn't make it through the winter. But their power was inconceivable. Even the knights of the castle couldn't stand up to them. Now that he had lost everything, what could Eulis do?
The falling snow seemed to suck the noise out of his surroundings. Lost in his despair, it wasn't until they were right next to Eulis that he noticed their presence.
"What have we here? You shouldn't be here, Your Honor. We've been looking for you," said a small voice right next to his ear.
Eulis' whole body tensed. He turned around, and when he did, right in front of him, he saw two monks dressed in coarse habits.
The short monk introduced himself. "Good evening. I'm Alois, a New Vatican monk. And this is Monk Richter."
The color of his skin was strange—evidence of the drugs and surgery they employed to strengthen themselves physiologically.
Alois eyed the retreating Eulis with a repellent smile on his face. "I was wondering who could be breaking the evening curfew, and look who it is... you! And we thought that you had died when the castle fell, Count."
"There's a curfew?! How dare you be so insolent?! You're the invaders!" Eulis' delicate face filled with rage when he heard the unholy monk's words. Eulis Ruutel, Count of Estonia, pulled out a handgun from his pocket. "The only person who can make such a decree is the leader of the country—me! I will not allow this! Especially from filthy heretics!"
"You won't allow it?"
The voice was now speaking from behind him. By the rime he'd realized that the short monk was no longer in front of him, his wrist was already being restrained by a grip strong enough to crush his bones.
"What are you going to do then, Your Honor?" Alois ridiculed Eulis as he wrenched the gun from his hands.
Eulis let out a scream of frustration. The mouth of the gun was now pointing directly at him.
"New Vatican has chosen Tallinn to be our seat of power—an honor which such a remote place is not worthy. You should be delighted, but instead you call us heretics? You nonbeliever!" Alois' face was distorted in rage. He glared down at Eulis and his voice turned to a scream: "We fight for the glory of God and the true faith! And you call us heretics! Such a crime is punishable by death!"
Eulis was still on the ground. He swallowed hard as the gun was thrust closer to his face. He was paralyzed with fear. Slowly, Alois squeezed the trigger.
A calm voice stopped the monk's finger: "Here we go. I thought there was no one on the streets. I thought that in the rural areas no one came out after dark, but here we are. There was martial law all along. Now I understand." The man continued to speak, his relaxed manner in sharp contrast to the mood of the evening.
"What are you doing?" Alois glared at this intruder, his finger still poised over the trigger.
This newcomer was frighteningly tall. Behind blonde hair that reflected the light were his bright blue eyes, which reminded Eulis of a lake in winter. However, it wasn't the man's appearance that captured Alois' attention. Peeking out from under his heavy coat was what looked like a cassock.
"A priest? I've not seen you before. Which troop are you with? Your diocese and position?"
"Umm. My diocese is the Roman Vatican and my position..." The man smiled as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "My position is in the Papal State Affairs Special Operations Section, otherwise known as AX."
"WHAT?!"
Eulis looked up at the two monks and saw that they had both turned a deathly pale color. Then, from one of the buildings looking down on the street, a monotonous voice came: "Rewriting stationary tactics to Assault-mode—Combat Open."
The very next second, an almighty roar of gunshots filled the night sky.
By the time he'd realized they were being shot at from above, the tirade of bullets had already mercilessly cut down one of the monks. The tall monk, Richter, collapsed next to Eulis, his limbs shot through.
On the other hand, the shorter Alois had managed to evade the attack and now screamed into the night air. "AX?! Then you are the dispatch officers?!"
Alois leapt up with inhuman strength and raised the handgun above his head. He had locked onto his target and was about to pull the trigger, but before he had the chance, a flying trash can hit the back of his head.
The trash can was packed full of snow and was very heavy. When he came crashing down to the stone cobbles, Alois' eyes rolled back in his skull. He'd been knocked out cold.
The blonde priest, who had began of all this, snorted. "Nice team work! Don't you think we really click? Don't you think? Father Tres? We're like peas in a pod. V"
"I do not understand your meaning, Father Nightroad," Father Tres replied, his voice so emotionless that it was almost frightening. It seemed to lack humanity. The figure dropped from the sky, like a ball of steel. The short man had his hair tied back. He looked down at the collapsed monks.
"Sir, tie these men up. I will bring Cardinal Borgia and Countess Anhalt."
"Yes, sir," the blonde priest acknowledged. He didn't seem to bear any ill will over being given orders. He offered a hand out to Eulis, who was still on the floor, and smiled. "Are you all right? That was bad luck. And the day is so cold. Oh, you don't have to worry. We are not with these men."
"Then who are you?" Eulis could see that the two men in front of him were clergy, but they didn't seem to be with New Vatican. Considering they were able to defeat tuned soldiers within seconds, it was clear these were not ordinary men, either. "Who the hell are you?!"
"I'm Abel Nightroad," the blonde priest replied. Again, he pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled. "We are traveling priests from the Vatican."