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"The Templars loved to write in code. In their scripts. In their tomes. And apparently, on their doors. It was a time of persecution and sadism in the church. But they also masked the true intent of their hearts in misdirections.

The lay meaning of whatever they wrote was not the real meaning. So that in the times of King Thomopoulos, many scholars misinterpreted their scripts, often to their deaths.

A Templar monk once wrote, \'The serpent is grievous to the children not born of fire.\'

The scholars of the King, [Grand Meisters] at the inception of the [C. A. W], interpreted the SERPENT of course as the devil and the CHILDREN OF FIRE as sinners. That was not what it meant. Long story short, the SERPENT was a winding lava lake of a volcano. And by the CHILDREN OF FIRE the monks meant Hellions.

At the depths of the river of fire, a Demon halfling found a loot of treasure not seen in ages—during a half-assed attempt to take his life."

"The serpent is grievous to the children not born of fire," Rafel rehearsed the words quietly.

"It was a riddle: it meant only the children born of fire; demons, could enter the Serpent: the lava lake, and find the treasure." Sekhmet offered calmly with a short laugh. "Hell, monks?"

Rosa still touched the cold stone door which faked as a wall with his hand. She replied Sekhmet. "Yes. It was intended to be misinterpreted. You can\'t take a monk\'s writing at face value, definitely not one half a millennia old. I have spent months to learn their Valhallan and Avalonic scripts, the right way of reading the 27 Gothic alphabets.

Still, I do not trust a monk with a pen.

In their days, writing was their warfare," she whispered this last part to Rafel.

"Soooo...are we going in or not?" Ravenna was still skippy, eyeing the wall like a closed glass case of delicious burgers. Her green eyes were bright with mana. Now that everyone knew who her father was, short spills of inner magic from her body like this were not seen as weird anymore.

"I understand." Rafel moved close to Rosamunde. He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. Her pulse fluttered at his touch. "—I do, but this is important. The monks wouldn\'t try one of their misdirection codes if nothing of value is hidden behind this wall.

We are not here for bullions. We are here for the Book. I think our intentions matter in solving the riddle. To solving the riddle correctly, we must think like it\'s creators. And we have—we used the key: Tomasina. A revered Saint.

I have confidence in you, Rosamunde. It will not fail."

Rosa gulped at the fierce faith she could see vibrant in his gilded pupils.

This was the young man who had led the Empire to war and conquered Rumbrun\'s crusade, the land of the Blue Giants—in one fell swoop.

"Tell us what it says."

Sekhmet and Aya also drew near, but it was the succubus who spoke. Rosa blinked up at Rafel and answered. "The interpretation of it is thus:

\'Beyond this coil is a SACRED TRUTH. TELL A LIE to see it revealed.\'

That\'s it. I\'ve been racking my brain, but I haven\'t the faintest idea what it means."

"So we need to lie? Easy!" Ravenna chirped.

"Not necessarily," Aya cornered. "Someone would first have to revive the dormant mana of the Abbey and get the gears turning again. The door\'s mystic riddle system would only respond to whatever we might say if fired up. We are in luck that we have a High Witch with us."

Rafel turned to smile at his gorgeous nurse. She raised her blond brows in a sultry arc. Rafel said, "If you please, Sekhmet."

"Always, my liege," came her honey voice.

[ Badunkadunk – BLV.]

Rafel couldn\'t resist the urge as she moved the final feet to the cold stone, and he traced the small of her back with the palm. It was such a sensual dip before the shoot of her hips. She had on camo pants and the tiniest shirt. He caressed from her back to the open space of her flat belly. He spied little peeks of cream boobs under the shirt\'s tied front, but he stopped himself from engaging.

Rosa\'s gray eyes were warm on his. "You don\'t want to distract her."

Rafel laughed. "Not at all." He pulled off her.

Sekhmet was a dangerous femme, but moreso an SS-RANK [Goddess] of war and healing.

She was perfect to revive the Abbey\'s mystic arc.

Everyone gave her some space in front of the door, standing off to the side to watch as she began to warm and glow up with a pinkish red aura. She burned until she was bright as a laser beam. Her arcane runes of white gold spun over her hourglass figure and danced into her skin and out again. She let her mana core fill and fill, till they didn\'t need torches again. She became their red-gold lamp.

Then she raised her hand slowly, and touched the cold stone.

Whispers rose in the air, indiscernible. A whirring started at her fingertips as her energy began to pour into the door\'s dormant mystic center. Swirls of wispy smoke, colored crimson like her aura, yawned up the floorboards and interwove with the writings on the stone. Her glorious [Divine] mana seeped into the stone door, sparking it to life.

And before long, every cobweb and crevice of the Abbey pulsed in red and golden light.

GGGRRRRRRR!

The stone began to rumble. Rafel heard a rattling, like the sound of dragging chains.

"It\'s time for us to answer the riddle now." She posed it again, "beyond this coil is a sacred truth. Tell a lie to see it revealed."

Rafel smiled, and all the women turned to him. "It is not a riddle at all, my lovelies. I guess the riddle of it is that we think it as one. But it\'s not! It\'s only a question. Get rid of the phrases, antecedents, and punctuation, and we have six words:

A SACRED TRUTH AND A LIE.

All we need is a profound divine truth, and some unrelated lie." Rafel stepped close to Sekhmet, and placed his hand on top hers. Their fingers treaded together, and the wall glowed brighter gold. He proclaimed, "Hear me, Mystic Arc and deliver your secrets. Here\'s MY SACRED TRUTH AND A LIE: I am the Apollyon of Hel, and I did not love one by name of Corazón Mortimer."

WHIRR! WHIRR! WHIRR!

DANNNGG!!!

A loud click sounded and the wall itself shifted. It was like stone rolled off a tomb. Seconds later, five pairs of eyes stared down a hollow descending staircase. The air smelled wet and settled on the skin. Strange bats flapped furiously out.

"Luminaris!" Aya whispered, and a fresh ball of white light appeared over her palm floating. She was no [Caster Witch], but she had picked up a few things from Cora.

The tunnel was a passageway into a tomb. Rafel could tell that much. Only Saints or Pharaohs were buried with as much these attention to detail. The question was, why the fuck would the Book of Souls be in a tomb under an Abbey?

It sounded like the kind of thing that should be in a sanctum, or a grotto!

At the end of the steps, Aya held the glowing ball high and they all made a collective gasp.

"Shit." Rafel growled.

Ravenna\'s green pupils dilated. "I think we just found where all the monks went."

The ball of magical light illumined twelve kneeling men in a circle around a silver sarcophagus with an inscribed cross on its top. Mummified faces peered out from the cassocks; gray sentinels surrounding the Saint in protection—even in death. The corpses of the monks were perfectly preserved in the cool tomb. Once their Saint\'s, now, theirs too.