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黄昏时分，她提着装满月桂，雏菊和常青藤的篮子走在回家的路上，这些东西是为了编织她下个月婚礼上的花环用的，她几乎已经能听见宴会上灌足了蜜酒后的欢闹，闻到刚出炉的蓝莓派和烤鲑鱼的香味。
一个温和敦厚的丈夫，一个热闹的宴会，一段全新的生活，她步伐轻快地仿佛脚下踩的不是泥泞而是通往天国的路。
靠近村庄，她看到了滚滚浓烟，她意识到可能发生了不好的事情，或许哪个粗心的酒鬼毛手毛脚地打翻了火盆点着了马厩？眼前的景象告诉她，事实比她想的更坏，血泥相间，满地的尸体再也没有谁能张嘴喝酒了
失魂落魄地往家赶时，她无比虔诚地向那不知道是否存在的神祈祷，至少让他活着，但是随着木门猛地推开，最后一丝希望也破灭了，所谓的慈悲并没有特别眷顾她可怜的未婚夫，他如同别的尸体一样倒在血泊中，胸口插着一把利剑。
悲伤，愤怒，痛苦，在她表达出任何一种情绪之前，一个高大的身影出现在她身后，那是个手握长枪，一看便知训练有素的战士，坚实的胸甲前裹着织有十字的麻布。
先生，我需要帮助，她流着泪说道
帮助？当然，当然。他一边说，一边关上了门：我会好好”帮助“你的
男人沉默着缓步逼近，脸上带着诡异的微笑，意识到危险，她缓步后退着，直到绊到未婚夫的尸体，她迅速地拔出了那把插在尸体上的剑，这时她才发现，那把剑的柄头上也刻着鲜红的十字。
她难以置信地望向男人，男人笑得更灿烂了：原本只是回来取些忘带的东西，没想到还有附赠品，赞美圣光。
尽管挥剑的动作迅捷而勇猛，一个从未经历任何训练的少女也绝无可能击败一名身披重甲手持长枪的成年男性士兵，很快男人便将她压倒在身下，笑容愈发狰狞
纤细的脖子被死死卡住，她努力着掰开男人的大手发出诘问，为什么？我们只是平民
男人冷笑着摇头，不，你们是异端，圣光会原谅对你们的一切暴行
她瞪着充血的眼睛，用快要断气的嘶哑声音说道：没有人会原谅你们，你们根本不是十字军，你们只是强盗
男人脸上的笑容消失了，同时消失的还有手上的力气，还没等她松下一口气，男人的一记重拳便落到脸上，顿时耳鸣响起，眼前一片空白，再回过神来的时候，男人已经站起身来，手握长枪，青筋暴起
你怎么敢侮辱圣光？暴怒的长枪就要狠狠刺下，她下意识地拿起剑护在胸前，尽管她也知道面对如此凶狠的一击，这一举动似乎毫无裨益
残阳如血，落日的最后一丝余晖投射在剑刃上，映入男人眼中，如同针芒
那是圣光吗？他没机会知道了，因为下一秒长剑划开了他的咽喉。
惊魂未定的少女瘫坐在地，良久，缩起身子发出悲鸣的呜咽
我做到了，这或许是一个奇迹，但是那又怎样呢，我已经失去了一切。。。
天黑了，门外的火光在黑暗中勾勒出那把剑的轮廓，剑柄的十字愈发鲜红，她起身，把剑紧紧握在手中
或许我还有另一个选择。

“那些假借信仰之名的恶徒，是时候让他们见识一下真正的圣光了。”

At dusk, she walked homeward carrying a basket filled with laurels, daisies, and ivy. These were for weaving the floral wreath for her wedding next month. She could almost hear the revelry at the banquet, filled with mead, and smell the freshly baked blueberry pies and roasted salmon.A gentle and kind husband, a lively feast, a brand new life — she walked as if on a path not of mud, but towards heaven.
Approaching the village, she saw billowing smoke. She realized something terrible might have happened. Perhaps some careless drunkard had overturned a brazier and set the stable on fire? The scene before her told a darker tale — blood and mud, bodies strewn everywhere, no one left to raise a cup.
Dazed, she hurried home, praying fervently to a God she wasn't sure existed, to let him at least be alive. But as the wooden door swung open, her last hope shattered. Mercy did not extend to her poor fiancé. He lay like the others,
in a pool of blood, a sword driven through his chest.
Before she could express any emotion, a tall figure emerged behind her. A trained warrior, holding a spear, with a coarse cloth bearing a cross woven across his sturdy breastplate.
"Sir, I need help," she said tearfully.
"Help? sure, of course," he said, shutting the door. "I'll 'help' you just fine."
The man approached silently, a strange smile on his face. Sensing danger, she stepped back until she stumbled upon her fiancé's corpse. Swiftly, she drew the sword from the body, and that moment,she noticing the red cross etched on the hilt.
She looked incredulously at the man, whose smile grew wider. "Just came back for some forgotten items, didn't expect the bonus. Praise the Holy Light."
Though her sword swung swift and fierce, a young girl with no training could never best a grown man clad in armor with a spear. Soon, he had her pinned, his smile twisted into a grimace.
His grip tightened around her slender neck. She struggled to pry his hands open to demand why. "We're just citizens."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "No, you're heretics. The Holy Light will forgive all my atrocities against you."
With bloodshot eyes, she hoarsely retorted, "No one will forgive you. You're no crusader, just bandit."
His smile vanished, along with his strength on the hand. But before she could sigh in relief, his heavy fist struck her face. Dazed, her vision blurred. when she regained her senses, he stood over her, spear in hand, veins bulging.
"How dare you insult the Holy Light?" he roared, about to strike. Instinctively, she raised the sword to shield herself, though she knew it was futile against his ferocious attack.
As the bloody sun set, its last rays cast upon the blade, reflected in the man's eyes like needles.
Was that the Holy Light? He would never know, for the next moment, the sword slit his throat.
The shaken girl slumped to the ground, trembling. After a while, she curled up and wailed mournfully.
"I did it. Perhaps it's a miracle, but what does it matter? I've lost everything..."
Night fell, the firelight outside outlined the silhouette of the sword, its cross-handle gleaming red. She rose, gripping the sword tightly.
Perhaps I have another choice.

"Those villains who hide behind faith, it's time they witnessed the true Holy Light."