An hour after the sunrise the sleepy village was starting to wake up. The first ones in exit their houses greeted the few sunrays that the, always present, fog let pass with an internal sight of their throats. Big open-mouthed yawns were spreading between the early-risers like the plague. Dragging their feet, and occasionally slipping on the morning dew that covered the eroded pavers, the villagers were reaching the square with the big stone cross. There was the monk that was going to led all the restoration works of the town. That monk was a little o f a ... well, yes. He was a pervert. He was a shipwright at his home town. He was involved in a case of exhibitionism –he had run drunk and completely nude around the seashore- and after being caught it was set for him to choose: being hanged or joining the monks. That's the reason why his looks and manners were rather unmonkish: blue spiky hair, blue star tattoos on his forearms and the brown monk robe much shorter than what was considered decent. In spite of that, he was the best carpenter in the whole region.

When the place was full of half-awake villagers, the monk started to separate to people in groups and giving them the basics to start with the work.

Shovels, chisels and hammers were distributed among the groups in charge of working the stone. All of them under the command of the monk Pica, an old retired stonemason. In meantime, the groups in charge of the woodwork were equipped with carpenter's brushes, nails, braces, handsaws and occasional rasps for wood. These groups were under the command of the oldest monk, Silvers Rayliegh, specialized in coating ships.

Once all the groups were ready, the perverted monk, Frankie, selected the first houses that were going to be repaired and the people started working.

When the cathedral's sun-clock marked 12 p.m. the town's square was witnessing all the liveliness that it hadn't seen in hundreds of years. People were running from one place to another. The workers shouted at one another to make themselves heard over the noise of the street. The peaks of the stonemasons exploded against the rocks with a dull metallic sound. The carpenter's saws cut through the large wooden beams, generating a murmur of depth that spread all over the valley. And the heavy hammers echoed in the forge that had been set in the far corner of the square.

In charge of the forge was a pair of brothers, former apprentices of the now deceased monk Akainu. After his death, the two young monks had taken his position as forge masters. The brown-haired and freckled monk had specialized in the maintenance of the fire and in the construction of weapons and tools, whereas the blond and blue-eyed one stood out with his work in goldsmithing and manual creation of the crystal with a pipe.

Oblivious to all the bustle, the priest was locked in one of the rooms of the cathedral's side-building, engrossed in his work. After breakfast, he had ventured into the depths of the cathedral in search of the library. Walking always through the corridors with more light, he managed to retrieve the books he had abandoned last night in that horrible chapel. Entering it, the priest could not help but notice that on the altar where there was only a candle last night, that morning there were several red candles lit, each one of which had a name engraved. Each one of them had the name of one of the monks. And placed in the middle of them, a larger black candle in which he could read: Trafalgar D. Water Law 'Medicus ad mortem'.

He ran out of the chapel towards the library. Taking the books he needed, he sprinted to a secluded room where he could hide and be safe while preparing himself to confront her. He was in a huge disadvantage. She knew way too much about him. Even more than his old monk friends. She knew what he was and his title. The title that The Church had given him when graduated. Those special titles differed every one of his kind from the others. Each one had his own title based on their abilities. His was 'Medicus ad mortem' and it was supposed to be known only between the members of The Church.

'How is it possible that she knows my title? What more does she know?' This thought worried him to no end. He knew nothing about her and she seemed to have access to top secret information. That's why he was confined in that small humid and dark room with the only company of a chandelier and the old books from the library.

Sitting on a moth-eaten chair and desk he worked in create potions and psalms that would help him to track, contain and kill her...

-"Amarantus seeds, Ulex europeus spikes, Urtica dioica leafs, Plantago major roots, Umbilicus rupestris...".

~Time skip to afternoon~

She was in one of the cathedral's interior balconies. She always had liked that place because from there she could see the whole cathedral's interior from above. She could observe the activity down there without being spotted by the monks. But today there weren't any monks repairing the banks, chairs or paintings. All of them were in the town helping the villagers, or in the small monastery farm taking care of the animals and the crops. And the priest was nowhere to be seen.

Walking out of the cathedral and into the monastery, she noticed that some monks were working in the interior garden. She came closer to them to get a better view of them, wrapping her black cape around her in order to merge in the shadows. They had the sleeves of the tunics rolled up. And many of them had even disposed of their heavy brown robes and were wearing light-colored inner tunics made of a more flimsy fabric. Under the day-light that covered the monks, she could see the pearls of sweat making their way down their faces, tracing the curves of their necks and disappearing under the collar of the tunics. One monk caught her attention. He was trimming a bush of roses. She had never seen a hair so beautiful. It was long, curly and shinned like gold under the sun. It was a wonder to her how a man could have such a hair, much less a monk.

The blonde must had sense her staring because he lifted his light blue eyes towards the shadow where she was hiding. Squinting his eyes the monk started to walk towards to the shadow...

-"Cabbage! Don't you dare to think you can skip your chores. Come here and work! We aren't going to do your duties just because you're the son of a noble family."

-"Shut up wild green boar! Go get the sparkle of your nose-ring and leave me alone! I think I saw something in that corner..."

-"What did you called me, rotten pumpkin?!"

-"In the name of Saint Luffy! Shut up both of you and continue working!" yelled a monk named Chaka.

With that the two monks continued with their works. Sighing she left the shadow and sneaked around the corridors reaching a corner and pushing a small stone in the wall. With a cranky sound half of the wall shifted and a hidden passage was opened on it. Silently entering it and climbing up the spiral staircase, she reached a room that was not on the maps of the monastery. A luxurious room that by the decoration was evident that it had belonged to a man. A very refined man. The room was still in the same state as the owner had left it, clean and perfectly organized. It was not as pompous as the one that was currently occupied by the priest, but its violet and wine colors gave it an elegant touch.

She came near an old portrait, similar to the one with the young lady in Trafalgar's room. But this time it was a man in his forty or late thirties. Black hair perfectly combed back, black beard and mustache neatly cut and old-styled clothes. Sitting in what seemed to be a throne his most prominent feature were his eyes. Piercing eyes that seemed alive. Their golden hue shinned with danger and intelligence.

-"No se preocupe" she said bowing down to the portrait "No permitiré que unos seres tan mundanos como estos perturben su descanso. Acabaré con todos ellos. Su sangre regará las piedras donde usted yace y el corazón del sacerdote le dará fuerzas para volver a la vida... Por favor, vuelva conmigo... Master..." *

Kissing and touching with her forehead the stone coffin placed in the center of the room, (Y/N) left to prepare herself for the night. The night that would be the first of her deadly game.

*  Translation of (Y/N)'s words:

-" Do not worry" she said bowing down to the portrait "I will not allow such mundane beings as these to disturb your rest. I'll finish them all. Their blood will water the stones where you lie and the heart of the priest will give you strength to come back to life ... Please come back to me ... Master..."