Chapter 70: Fangs of Stone, Breath of Decay
Nando walked behind the group, his eyes scanning the darkening horizon. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and he could sense the unease in the other recruits. His veins pulsed beneath his skin, the black threads of the curse crawling across his arms, reminding him of the changes he had yet to fully master. Though his powers continued to evolve, they carried a weight he wasn’t sure he could control—not yet.
Their expedition had been led by two powerful apostles—Greenthumb, who commanded nature with ease, manipulating plants like they were an extension of his body, and Salamander, a fearsome figure who channeled draconic power, his red scales shimmering faintly even under the faint light of dusk. Together, they were formidable, and yet the task at hand had put everyone on edge.
Nando and his group had been tailing a gargoyle for days. A creature of stone, once feared and worshipped, now broken and decaying as pieces of its body littered the trail. They were nearing it, closer with each passing moment, but something about this mission bothered him. The gargoyle wasn’t just a beast on the verge of death. It had a plan, a terrible one—one that would see it consume an entire village to restore itself. A blood sacrifice of such magnitude would allow it to regain its former strength, something Nando couldn’t let happen.
He glanced at the recruits around him. Edmund, with his flame whip coiling in his hands, wore a confident smirk. His control had improved dramatically since people like Ronald had last seen him. But it wasn’t the flame that caught Nando’s attention—it was the subtle arrogance in his stance, the belief that his power was enough to solve anything.
Gato, however, was different. He and Nando had bonded through their shared experiences with Fiendfinger. Gato’s transformation was less gruesome than Nando’s, but just as irreversible. His bird-like eyes glinted in the fading light, and Nando knew Gato was itching for the skies. There was a quiet yearning in him, a pull toward something greater, but it wasn’t time yet. Gato would soar eventually, Nando knew that much, but for now, they were both grounded, caught in the web of this cursed mission.
The other recruits, non-gifted and gifted alike, kept their distance. Nando had grown accustomed to the cold stares and the unease people felt around him. The veins crawling across his skin, the dark aura that followed him—they were a constant reminder that he wasn’t quite like the others. But that suited him fine. He didn’t need their approval. He just needed to get this mission over with.
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As they trudged through the dense undergrowth, Greenthumb raised his hand, signaling the group to halt. “We’re close,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding. His fingers twitched, and the surrounding plants bent to his will, parting to reveal the remnants of stone. “The gargoyle’s injured, but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Stay alert.”
Nando tensed, feeling the vibration in the earth beneath his feet. His powers were still new to him, but he had learned enough to recognize the signs. The ground felt different here, charged with something darker. He instinctively pressed his hand to the dirt, allowing his veins to stretch out like webbing, sinking into the soil. The earth whispered to him, its secrets spilling into his mind.
“It’s moving,” Nando murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But... something’s wrong. It’s slower, maybe decaying, but it’s not far.”
Greenthumb nodded, his sharp gaze scanning the area. Salamander, on the other hand, remained silent, his imposing form covered in shimmering scales, ready for battle. The dragon apostle exuded raw power, his draconic transformation always teetering on the edge of control. He would be their vanguard when the fight came, that much was clear.
As they moved deeper into the forest, the broken remnants of the gargoyle’s body began to appear more frequently—chunks of stone littering the ground, some still glowing faintly with ancient marks. Nando couldn’t shake the feeling that the gargoyle was more than just a monster. There was something ancient about it, something connected to the dark power he was only beginning to understand.
Edmund whipped his flame forward, his cocky grin in place. “Let’s just find this thing and put it out of its misery.”
Gato, quiet and calculating, kept his bird-like eyes focused on the horizon. “It’s not that simple, Edmund,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of their shared experiences. “We don’t know how desperate it’s become.”
Nando nodded in agreement. “And desperate creatures are very unpredictable.”
As they continued to follow the trail, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows through the forest. The air grew colder, and Nando’s breath came out in visible puffs. The group pressed on, moving with purpose, though the tension was palpable.
Then they saw it—a silhouette against the twilight, hulking and broken. The gargoyle. Its once-majestic wings were cracked and crumbling, its stone body riddled with fractures, but its eyes glowed with an unnatural light. It was monstrous and magnificent, an ancient thing clinging to life with fierce determination.
Salamander stepped forward, his body shifting as red scales began to ripple across his skin, his form growing larger, more imposing. “Get into position,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Nando couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a simple kill. There was something more at play, something deeper. As Salamander prepared to charge, Nando caught Gato’s eye. They both knew this mission wasn’t over. The gargoyle was just the beginning.