'There is no Savior in this world?'
'How could he say something so blasphemous?'
Martha's eyes widened as she stared at Murphy in disbelief.
His jet-black eyes, as tranquil as a deep pool, reflected her terrified face.
There was no anger in them, no ridicule, not even a hint of emotion. He was simply stating a fact, as casually as if remarking that the weather was nice.
But it was this very tranquility that made Martha even more afraid.
If some drunken vagrant or a self-loathing thug had said such a thing, she would have simply thought they were mad, or that their minds had been corroded by nightmares.
'But *he* was the one who said it.'
'The man who made Rodrick grovel.'
'The man who had pulled her and Lina back from the brink of the abyss.'
'The man who had just been quoting the Holy Scripture.'
'How could a man like that say something so blasphemous?'
A dead silence fell over the courtyard.
Even young Lina stopped crying.
