The information gathered by Kiba and Koneko painted a grim picture. Asia Argento was almost certainly being held in the church's basement, guarded by Fallen Angels who were preparing for a ritual – the extraction of her Twilight Healing Sacred Gear. The urgency of the situation pressed down on Ren, a suffocating weight.
"We need to get a clearer idea of what's happening in that basement," Rias Gremory stated, her voice low and decisive as they remained concealed on the wooded rise. "Koneko, your senses are the sharpest for this. Can you get closer, perhaps find a ventilation shaft or a cellar window? We need to know how many are guarding her directly, and if the ritual has already begun."
Koneko nodded once, her golden eyes focused. "Will try, Buchou." Without another word, she slipped away again, a small shadow swallowed by the larger darkness that clung to the old church.
The wait was agonizing. Ren found himself replaying his brief encounter with Asia in the park – her gentle smile, her innocent kindness. The thought of her in the clutches of sadistic Fallen Angels, terrified and alone, fueled a cold rage within him, a feeling that resonated with the simmering heat of his Dying Will Flames. He wanted to rush in, to burn everything to the ground, but Rias's earlier warning about recklessness, and the sheer, palpable power he sensed from Rias and Akeno, kept him rooted to the spot. He was out of his depth, a novice in a world of ancient powers and deadly conflicts. For now, he had to trust them.
After what felt like an eternity, but was probably no more than fifteen minutes, Koneko reappeared, her small face pale, her usual stoic expression tinged with a rare flicker of anger and disgust.
"It's bad," she said, her voice tight. "Very bad. One main chamber in the basement. Asia-san is there. Chained. Weak." Her fists clenched. "Three Fallen Angels directly guarding her. One of them… she feels strong. Raynare, I think Kiba called her. The leader."
Ren's heart sank. Chained. Weak.
"And there's another one," Koneko continued, her voice dropping even lower, a note of revulsion creeping in. "A human. An exorcist, maybe? But… wrong. He's hurting her. Not just… physically. He's enjoying it."
Freed Sellzen. Ren remembered the name from Rias's earlier briefing, the Stray Exorcist known for his sadism and his light-based weaponry. The thought of him tormenting Asia made Ren's blood boil.
Deep within the damp, stone-walled basement of the church, Freed Sellzen was indeed having a grand time. Asia Argento was chained to a cold stone altar, her simple nun's robes torn and dirty, her face streaked with tears and grime. She was trembling, her eyes wide with terror, but she refused to cry out, a small act of defiance that only seemed to amuse Freed more.
"Oh, little sister, you're no fun at all!" Freed cackled, dancing around her, his light-sword tracing patterns in the air, occasionally flicking it close enough to singe her robes or leave a shallow, burning cut on her skin. His pistol was tucked into his belt, but he clearly preferred the up-close-and-personal terror his sword could inflict. "No screams? No begging? Lady Raynare said I could play until she was ready for the main event, but you're making it awfully boring!" He leaned in close, his breath reeking of something foul. "Don't worry, though. The real fun starts soon. When we carve that pretty little Sacred Gear right out of your soul. I hear it's quite… excruciating. I can't wait to hear you sing then!" He let out a high-pitched, maniacal laugh that echoed off the damp stone walls.
Raynare, the Fallen Angel leader, watched Freed's antics from a shadowed corner of the chamber, her expression one of cool disdain. With her were two other Fallen Angels, Kalawarner and Dohnaseek, their faces impassive, their wings folded neatly behind them.
"Enough, Freed," Raynare said, her voice cutting through his laughter like a whip. "Your… enthusiasm… is grating. The preparations for the ritual are nearly complete. The lunar alignment will be optimal within the hour. Ensure the vessel is… compliant, but not damaged beyond usefulness." Her gaze flickered to Asia, cold and appraising, like a butcher eyeing a prize cut of meat. "Twilight Healing is too valuable to be marred by your clumsy sadism."
Freed pouted, but he reluctantly lowered his sword. "Aw, you're no fun either, Lady Raynare. But alright, alright. I'll keep her… fresh." He winked at Asia, a gesture that made her flinch.
Kalawarner stepped forward. "My Lady, the sentries at the main entrance have not reported anything unusual. The perimeter is secure."
Dohnaseek grunted in agreement. "This town is weak. No one will dare interfere with us."
Raynare allowed herself a small, confident smile. "Excellent. Soon, the power of Twilight Healing will be mine. And then, Lord Azazel will surely recognize my true worth." Her ambition burned in her eyes, a cold, dark fire. This remote church, this insignificant town, was merely a stepping stone to greater power, greater glory within the ranks of the Grigori.
Back on the wooded rise, Koneko finished her report. "The ritual… it's starting soon. Very soon. They mentioned the moon."
Rias's expression was grim. "The new moon is tonight. A time often favored for rituals involving the extraction or transfer of power. We don't have much time." She looked at Akeno, then Kiba, then Ren. The time for stealth was over. The whispers from within had confirmed their worst fears. Asia Argento was in imminent, mortal danger. And the Fallen Angels were confident, arrogant, believing themselves secure in their hidden den. They were about to receive a very unwelcome surprise.