The surgeon's cleansing cut

He rose from the grave, a legend in life.

Nocturne, Great Scholar of the Arcaelis Academy.

Though undead, locked away for centuries,

His mind and soul never left him.

Accused of a crime by the Order,

He became a Sir Rowan's nightmare.

A bloody witch, like a wolf among sheep,

She wore the skin of a healer.

From the shadows she spins spiderwebs to feed.

But she is discovered, her mask falls.

From hunter, she becomes prey.

Omega dwells in the north,

Ra points to the east…

A triple triangle merges into a star,

and its nine points command the languages of the world.

Luminous signs appeared,

lines, and runes melting into the stone.

The temple porch is a cage for the ungodly.

I am a member of the Council.

The Chalice of Hidea is in my possession.

Askles' staff shows me the way.

My name is Nocturne.

I am the one who defied the Judges!

I tore the veil!

I bent the cycle to my will!

I am the Greatest Sacrilege,

and my voice reaches the Underworld!

A blinded witch tries with the last of her strength

to drive a bloody spike into her opponent.

Her last scream carries through the air.

DO NOT CLOSE!

YOU... YOU MONSTER!

I am the doctor, and you are the disease!

FACULTAS MEDICINAE ET SANATIONIS:

SECTIO PURGATORIA CHIRURGICA!

One flash.

One gust of wind.

The cruel witch is gone,

And her bloody soul

will not be seen even by the Judges

Who judge from behind the Veil.