My initial surprise waned as a burning hatred boiled up within me. There was no hesitation in my choice. I dipped my mind into my Spatial Ring and pulled out two syringes; the thick red substance within wobbled with the movement.
I eyed my father and mother, who were faring better against their paladin. We were too close to each other to use a wide area of effect magic, and the stragglers were beginning to gather themselves as a new group of rugged-looking paladins showed up.
Their armor was different, some haphazardly maintained, dented in the shoulders and helmets. Overall, they looked like a band of brigands. The purple articles of clothing and cloaks were thrashed, but the marked-out and desecrated symbols of Amon-Ra were present. They were all members of the Chapter of Despair.
I met my father’s eyes and threw the syringe with all my might. We had talked about using the drugs if things got out of hand. A shadowy hand whipped out from my father and snatched the syringe out of the air. He quickly injected himself in the thigh, and I followed suit.
The effects were almost immediate. I felt my skin get taut. My veins bulged and pulsed against the surface of my flesh as my heart thumped in my chest. Sylas’s version of my stimulant was made with purer and higher quality ingredients, as well as being appropriately mixed, which made it all the more potent.
And with it, my emotions exploded out of me.
“Wow, what did you just stab yourself with? I don’t even want to imagine the—”
Alnwar’s words were cut short as he fell to the floor and reached for his own throat, choking on the air around him. The paladins were forced to their knees as well, and all the fighting in the pit had ceased for a moment as the full force of my bloodlust suffocated those around me.
“Alnwar Strongfold. Today is your last day on this planet.”
Power coursed through my muscles and veins as I shot forward like a cannon, aiming straight for the man’s throat. My body became wreathed in golden lightning as white flames danced along my spear’s tip. Alnwar managed to get back to his feet, but he blocked my thrust with shaky hands.
He dodged and blocked my repeated strike, the fear in his eyes and the hesitation in his movements clear. I didn’t give him a moment of respite as I pushed the assault. I swept my spear along his body for a slash and knocked his long sword up into the air.
I repositioned the tip for a thrust to the heart, but the second short sword came up to deflect it. I sent a blast of close-range white fire at him, but he dodged to the side with his tremendous speed. We locked back into a fury of blows, and I continued to push him into a corner. As the fight progressed, the fear of his features lessened as he regained control of himself.
One thing is certain. Alnwar is not a pushover, and judging by his soul, he is at the level of a War God but not nearly at the top like King Maxwell or even a Grandmaster mage like Bowen. This means the stories of him slaying an Exarch must be fabricated lies.
With my heightened senses, I heard the swing and ducked to the side, avoiding the massive war hammer that aimed to crush me into dust. The impact made a crater on the ground, and I went to thrust my sword into the paladin but was forced to react to Alnwar’s attack instead.
I used gravity to force me the opposite way and to the side. My body jerked violently as my equilibrium shattered from the change. It made me want to vomit, but with that unnatural movement, I dodged the attack entirely and went for a counter-attack on Alnwar.
Thankfully, Cerila was right behind to deal with the paladin, and for the first time, her sword came into contact with flesh. The paladin whipped around his hammer with great force that moved the air as blood splattered from a sizable gap in his back. At the time, I also caught a glimpse of my parents.
My mother had left to kill the new Chapter of Despair paladins and allow my father free reign during his battle. A storm of shadows swelled and exploded out toward the paladin, who countered with golden spells of light magic. The intensity of their battle had increased tenfold as it destroyed the land around them, and any unlucky to get caught up in it had their lives snuffed out by tendrils of shadows or bolts of light.
Regardless, my focus remained on the fight at hand as I trusted that Cerila would handle that paladin from here on out. Alnwar had mostly regained his composure and dropped into a low stance. He kept both his short and long sword pointed at me and struck out like a viper.
I had to pay close attention to his body to see which blade would come at me, but I was able to read it with my enhanced body, the increased focus from the combat drug, and years of experience. I went for a leg sweep using my spear as a staff, but Alnwar dodged back out of range.
He shot forward immediately after, and I sent him retreating with another thrust, or so I thought. Alnwar crossed his blades into an x and blocked my spear in the center. He used the momentum to get under and knock my spear up, and instead of retreating like he usually did, he pushed into me.
He shoulder-checked and staggered me, and I watched as the short sword went low and aimed directly at my side. The blade would pierce my side and right into my internal organs.
If it could, that was.
I trusted in Squeak’s and Padraic’s abilities, and instead of backing away, I brought the shaft of my spear down on his head. Alwarn’s grin was disgusting as the blade impacted me, but it was wiped away in a flash as the sound of metal on metal rang out. My spear crashed into his head, and I sent a knee into his gut, knocking him into the air slightly.
With my spear in hand and my body enhanced to its maximum, I pushed Alnwar away and sent him flying into a pile of rubble. I flipped my spear around and pointed the golden horn at Alnwar as I primed a White Fire Lance to end him. It was far easier and faster to cast than a plasma-based spell, and I had already prepared it as he was flying off.
The white fire warped the air as the intense heat boiled off my spear. But within a matter of moments, the spell launched a jagged lance of white flames at Alnwar. However, I sensed an incoming spell core and watched with surprise as a golden hammer sniped the Flame Lance out of the air. The paladin fighting Cerila had taken a brief moment to launch a spell to protect Alnwar.
Honestly, these two paladins are more of a problem than Alnwar at this point.
Cerila was struggling against her opponent. Her movements were sluggish as time went on. She hadn’t slept in a full day, and the long battle was draining her even more. She may actually collapse at any moment.
Alnwar burst out from the rubble and raced toward me, completely unharmed. It seemed even he could use light magic to heal himself. I prepared myself to meet his attack head-on when suddenly Alnwar stopped, skidding to a halt and throwing himself back.
A clump of purple rock collided with the ground making a crater and kicking up a large cloud of debris. There was a thunderous crash to the side as something else impacted the earth by Cerila and the paladin. A massive purple blur moved through the smoke with terrifying agility and speed, and I watched as the paladin swung his war hammer at it.
An armored hand covered in a thick layer of purple crystal impacted the hammer mid-swing and crushed it into dust. The paladin was blown back from the blow, and an armored figure that stood taller than even the massive paladin brought both his hands down and smashed the soldier on his shoulders, forcing him to his knees.
A gust of wind appeared as the crystal figure extended his hands out and back and, with explosive force, went to clap. The paladin’s head and helmet were crushed into a blood mist, his ears touching in the center. The crystal man dragged the body up and hoisted it into the air after.
“Have no fear, for your king has arrived! Let none survive our fury!” King Maxwell shouted into the air, accompanied by his menacing bloodlust.
On cue, there were caws from the air, followed by many blurs in the distance. Spells began raining down from the air on the white robbed assistants and paladins of the Chapter of Despair as Gryphon Riders decimated their ranks.
King Maxwell, covered in his crystal magic, rushed over to me, his face mostly obscured, but I could see the grin on his lips. “Come Kaladin! Let us finish this bastard!”
There was no hesitation as I sprinted to catch up to him. Alnwar scowled and ran full tilt into a group of his allies, but the two of us gave chase. We crashed into the lines of white robes and paladins and began slaughtering them.
With spear and magic, I killed dozens, burning their bodies to a crisp, impaling their chests, and crushing their bones with every swipe of my weapon. King Maxwell made mincemeat of anyone who dared to stand before him. Every punch claimed a life and sent a corpse lying in a sea of their own blood.
The ground was an ocean of crimson as we waded through the corpses of the fallen to Alnwar, who was being healed by a group of priests. His light magic must not have been enough to heal him completely. I sent a Fireball into the group, and Alnwar grabbed and tossed the priest into my spell. The priest exploded as he impacted my spell, his limbs flying off in random directions.
We were just about to attack Alnwar when something changed. My gut twisted into a knot as I sensed an overwhelming power from our side. There was a flash of light from a broken sewer pipe, and something shot out from it. It moved far faster than anything I had yet to see, and I couldn’t make it out at all.
The gust of wind blew past me as it moved straight toward Cerila. My heart leaped in my chest as I sent magic toward it in an attempt to halt its advance; even King Maxwell tossed a disk of purple crystal at it, but our attacks missed entirely.
Cerila was killing off a squad of paladins. Her chest was heaving up and down. Her eyes sunk into her skull, and the signs of intense fatigue all over her. She was late to react to the new attacker.
She brought Hubris up to defend herself, but in the blink of an eye, her entire arm was separated from her body. Her hand, still holding Hubris, spiraled in the air, trailing blood. Time seemed to come to a halt as I watched a knight wearing pristine silver armor jump into the air.
The man was tall but more lanky than muscular. The armor he wore was ornate and shimmered in the afternoon sun. A greenish-white sword that looked like it was made of crystal was clutched in one hand, and strapped to his other arm was an equally ornate shield. It was beautifully crafted, with the symbol of a bright golden sun at its center and white wings coming out from it. I had never seen it in person, but I instantly recognized it, and so did King Maxwell.
An Exarch. The Shield Exarch of the North.
The crystalline sword disappeared into thin air, leaving his hand free. He snatched Hubris out of the air, but the moment he gripped the sword, he was tossed into the ground as if the sword had dragged him. He impacted the ground like a meteor, as King Maxwell and I arrived on top of him.
The Exarch laid on his back, Hubris in one hand, and his shield sprawled out to the side. I thrust my spear down at the fallen man, and King Maxwell went to stomp his head.
“That was unexpected,” the Exarch grumbled in a relaxed tone.
I swore I didn’t even blink, but his shield was suddenly positioned in front of him. I hit the shield with my spear, but it bounced straight off. King Maxwell’s kick was stopped dead in its tracks. A burst of white light flashed from the sun on the shield, and I felt the intense heat and powerful mana, so I dodged back out of instinct.
The magic barely grazed my arm, but I felt my flesh burn, then nothing. I had lost a chunk of my forearm along with my jacket.
An instantly cast spell? From the shield itself?
“Kaladin, stay back. Grab Cerila and take her to Sylvia. I’ll handle this guy,” King Maxwell said in a low voice.
I rushed over to Cerila, who was gripping her missing arm, trying to staunch the bleeding. The Exarach was already back on his feet, trying to pull Hubris off the ground but to no avail. Eventually, he just shrugged and summoned his sword back from his Spatial Ring.
I picked Cerila up and rushed her over to Sylvia. Alnwar might get away, but Cerila’s life was more important. My worry for her overran my seething hatred for him.
I saw that my father had defeated the other paladin. Shadows crawled around him as his purple and black spear embedded into the head of the slumped-over paladin. In the meantime, Sylvia had encased the other three in a sphere of blood and was attacking and killing anyone who approached her.
She cut the head off a white robbed man and looked at me with worried eyes. I handed the moaning Cerila off to her and took over the defense position as spells from the Gryphon Knights rained down.
Cerila let out one final scream before she passed out as her arm began to regrow. I stepped back, let the spells of the knights finish off the last few remaining assailants in this area, and turned my attention to Sylvia.
She pulled away from Cerila’s neck with a frown. “She passed out, but she isn’t in danger anymore.”
“Good, put her in the sphere with the others for the time being,” I requested.
Sylvia nodded, and a tendril of blood snaked out from one of the nearby bodies and wrapped Cerila up, only to crawl itself into a crimson sphere. It was… unnerving a bit, but I had gotten used to it, so there was no reason to be surprised anymore.
Off in the distance, King Maxwell and the Exarch were exchanging blows. Each strike rocked the ground and sent shockwaves across the entire place. Entire sections of the crater were being torn to pieces as the two fought at inhuman speeds.
“So that’s an Exarch…” Sylvia muttered from my side.
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“Yes.”
“Can the king win?” Sylvia asked, looking at me from the side.
If Grandpa’s words are to be believed…
“If we threw everything at him, maybe,” I answered.
I was beginning to see what Grandpa meant. King Maxwell, the strongest man on the continent, was not able to land even a single hit on the Exarch. His massive tower shield seemed to move immediately to block and strike, and although his sword was not a Holy Artifact, whenever he swung the blade, it would slice into the King’s crystal armor, taking a massive chunk out of it. Thankfully, it was quickly regrown, but how long could King Maxwell keep up?
My father and mother made their way over to us. The two of them were drenched head to toe in the blood of their enemies and their own as well. Without even needing to be asked, Sylvia immediately healed the two of them.
The three of us watched the two fight, and it was clear that we could not intervene recklessly. King Maxwell was giving it his all, and so was the Exarch. Any slip up would be the end for us.
Eventually, the two men broke apart from each other. Neither of them was winded or wounded. The Exarch stood tall and planted his shield into the ground with a thud.
“It’s an honor to meet the Berserker King face to face. The stories don’t do your strength justice,” the Exarch said humbly.
“Gerimia Foster, the Shield Exarch. Tell me, why have you invaded my kingdom?” King Maxwell demanded.
“All land is equally ours under our god. I have every right to be here. And besides, I think it’s rather obvious as to why I’ve come. But there seems to be an issue…so I’ll be taking my leave now,” Gerimia said.
What? He’s just going to leave?
“What?! We can’t leave now you just—”
Alnwar’s yapping was silenced with a single glance from the Exarch. “I won’t be hearing any complaints from you.”
Gerimia looked up into the sky as Gryphon Knights circled above. “Besides, we are outnumbered, and I don’t intend to wait things out only to starve to death. I’m a defensive specialist; I can’t defeat an army with this many elites alone. We are leaving.”
“As if I’d let you. This hole will be your grave,” King Maxwell snarled.
“No, it really won’t be. But if you want it to be yours, that’s fine with me, Your Majesty,” Gerimia said with a shrug.
King Maxwell shot forward, but he stopped in his tracks. We all felt it. The feeling of dread increased, and the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. And my body screamed at me to run. It was a familiar sensation, and Sylvia was the first to shout.
“Stop him! He is starting a ritua—”
Sylvia’s warning was stopped just with the Exarch’s voice, “I do not permit you to preach to me. You shall all know silence.”
The sun on the shield lit up, and a burst of light flashed. No magic or sudden pain hit us, but there was a definite change. All the sound in the entire crater had ceased as if the world had gone deaf.
King Maxwell rushed forward, but an enormous golden barrier flashed to life. It reminded me of the barrier that Mason erected in Gilcour Thicket all those years ago, but this one was three times as big and covered their entire side in holy light.
“Oh, hear, all you faithful, I hereby command you, be strong and courageous. Have no fear or dread of them, for your god is with you today.”
Once again, the Exarch’s shield flickered to life. With golden rays, the sun shined, and the wings shimmered, and rays of light streamed out from it. They arced off and danced in the air, and we all watched as they shot down and into the invaders. The white robes and paladins all glowed with a holy light as they began to stand up, examining themselves as if surprised by something.
Even the people who were at death’s door and nothing but limbless corpses began to regrow limbs and stand back up, full of vigor, as they picked up weapons. The only bright side was that the dead stayed dead and did not rise. Even so, we were once again surrounded.
The refreshed mob let out war cries as they rushed us with renewed fervor. Spells from the knights crashed into their ranks just as before, but it appeared as if they were less effective. People were losing body parts from Fire Balls or falling rocks, but they healed almost immediately and got right back up.
The first wave crashed into us, and with Sylvia’s help, the four of us began to fight back. We killed dozens more, and there was a stark difference now. Before, the white-robed people seemed nothing more than civilians, blindly rushing to their deaths. But now, even the weakest amongst them was slightly more robust, which wasn’t much, all things considered, as they still died all the same.
It was also unnerving that we were the only ones that couldn’t speak. Our swords clashing, the cutting of flesh, none of it made any noise. It was only the shouts of zealots and the low hum of a chorus of voices mumbling in sync off in the distance.
Sylvia yelled into the air, like she was breaking free of the silence, and shouted, “Hold them back! They are doing a ritual! I have to try to stop them! Throw the bodies toward me!”
Sylvia jumped back, and blood began to spiral out from the corpses and shoot out into the crowd. The blood pooled on the ground and, like a rushing river, began to flow toward us. The crimson liquid gathered above Sylvia into a massive ball as she quickly mumbled to herself with her eyes closed.
I had no idea what she was doing, but we did as she asked. I thrust my spear into the heart of a woman and tossed her body over my head and into a pile. My mother cut through the hoard with her twin lightning-clad blades as my father used his shadows to launch the bodies backward.
And their souls…they have golden chains around them now…what is happening?
The low hum grew louder, and the feeling of impending doom increased exponentially. Sylvia let out a curse that she didn’t have time for and pointed her sword forward. The sphere of crimson liquid wobbled and morphed, taking on the appearance of metal. It slowly transformed into a giant spear that resembled mine. The spear oozed power and the same feeling of dread as the golden shield.
“Kaladin, help me! Use that spell!” Sylvia yelled.
I jumped back and knew exactly what she meant. I focused on my reserves of mana and began forming the same triple spell core at the tip of the golden horn on my spear. The white flames condensed down by gravity into a blue sheen and then further into a smooth glass texture.
The searing heat boiled the blood and warped the air around us, but we paid it no mind. If Sylvia said that the ritual needed to stop, then that was what needed to happen.
After a few moments and my spell ready, Sylvia shouted, “Now! Bring it down!”
There was no boom like last time, but the shockwave was just as intense as I threw my spear. It knocked us back, but we couldn’t help but watch the spears soar off. They flew over the head of the king, who was annihilating the waves of zealots with crystals and fists. The crimson and blue spear raced toward their target, only for a silver knight to walk out from the barrier.
He raised his giant tower shield and, from his back, expanded six golden wings, three on each side. Pure mana exuded from his form and thickened the very air around him. He braced himself behind his shield as the two spells impacted him, followed by a flash of blue and gold light.
The following shockwave rolled over us like the force from a bomb, this time literally knocking us off our feet. We hid behind our magic, and Sylvia protected us with a wall of blood. After the explosive force and the dust cleared, Sylvia dropped her wall of blood.
The entire area was wreathed in blue and golden flames. The only thing between us and the golden shield was a purple mass of crystal that slowly broke apart. King Maxwell stood tall but, still unharmed, and glaring down at us was the Shield Exarch.
His golden wings flapped behind him, his shield unmarred by the devastation, and the golden barrier still erected. The exarch raised his crystal sword and shouted to the world.
“The faithful must take hold! Answer to your god, which you have confessed to! Fight your last fight for your entire life in service to his brilliance!”
From behind the golden barrier, the still-standing paladin, priests, and white-robed assailants dropped to the floor. From my Soul Sight, I could see that they were dead. And even without my Dragon eye, I could visibly see the golden specters fly off into the shield only to evaporate into visible mana and be absorbed.
It was then that the threat was evident. There were no words between us. We immediately began casting defensive magic. I layered dozens and dozens of earthen walls in front of us. Sylvia also did the same with her Blood Sorcery, and even King Maxwell retreated to our position.
He stood in front of us and thrust his fists into the ground. Crystals the size of houses began to spread out like mountains toward the threat. Sylvia was wrapping us all in a giant sphere of blood as the voice rang out.
“Consecration.”
The world was filled with a brilliant golden light that consumed everything and threatened to break through Sylvia’s magic. The last thing I saw was Sylvia’s magic barely failing to envelope the king, before sound returned to us. Outside of the blood sphere, it sounded like a storm. No, it was closer to being in the middle of an orbital bombardment from my previous life.
The entire planet seemed to shake from the force, and it was a long time, at least five minutes, before things finished. We all remained in silence, waiting, but I couldn’t hear or sense anything besides those of us inside the barrier. I gave Sylvia a nod, and the bloody barrier splashed onto the ground.
The outside world was barren. The crater, which was filled with blood, bodies, and rock, was a perfect hole in the ground now. The only thing that remained was a purple cocoon directly in front of us. Other than that, there was nothing.
Still feeling the effects of my drugs, and with what little I had in the tank, I sprinted forward. My family called to my back, but I continued to run, headless of their words. They were safe, the immediate threats were gone, and I absolutely would not let Alnwar escape so easily.
Their escape path was clear, a sewer pipe of the city. I ran directly into the darkness, following their only possible path. I was running at full speed when I ran into a crossroads. But the footsteps in the filth were easy enough to follow. It was then that something rushed out of the darkness.
I wasted no time, sent multiple Earth Lances into it, and continued to run. The body was impaled into the roof of the sewer, and what I did manage to make out in the darkness was bloodshot red eyes followed by the snarls of a person. It must have been a Vampire, but I ignored it and continued forward. That could be dealt with later.
After a few minutes of running, the smell of the sea hit me, and I broke free into the light. I was on a dock facing the blue ocean with the burning city behind me. And out in the water was a single dingy being rowed by Alnwar, the Shield Exarch standing, watching me from across the water.
It was being rowed out to a large ship docked out in the open water. Beside me was a bunch of slain fishermen, and I immediately ran over to a pile of harpoons and picked up the first one. I took a few steps back from the edge and recalled my match with Agnar many months ago.
I focused the last dredges of mana in my body for one final railgun shot. The white flames flickered on the steel harpoon and melted it. As the flames coalesced down to blue glass, the harpoon warped and began to drip. The spell burnt my lungs and destroyed the hand holding the weapon, but I ignored it all.
With what was left of it, I sprinted forward and, with all my might, I tossed it. The spell rocketed across the water, burning the sea and setting up puffs of smoke, and created a giant wave. And as it raced toward its intended target, the shield of the Exarch flashed, and a golden barrier protected the small dingy.
The spell hit and exploded, sending another shockwave that kicked up the water and sent it spraying across the bay. Once again, my most potent spell had been defeated by the Exarch. The waves pushed the dingy closer to the ship and I fell to my knees, drained of mana and stamina.
My anger burned intensely, but there was nothing I could do. Alnwar had escaped my grasp when he was right in front of me. I had failed.
—
Alnwar Strongfold’s POV.
“Wew…that was too close for comfort. It’s been a while, Gerimia, but thanks for the help back there. Who knew they were that strong?” I said as I climbed onto the deck.
“We did. We always knew they were that strong. Why didn’t you strike the Dragonslayer down?” Gerimia questioned with an annoyed huff.
“Ouch…not even a ‘good to see you’ after all these years? And I tried. That kid isn’t someone to be trifled with. If I had a little more time before that damn king showed up, I would have killed him,” I said.
Gerimia snorted. “Whatever.”
“And hey, last time I checked, you failed your mission too, right?” I said as we walked down into the depths of the ship.
“I failed one of my three missions, and that was because something was out of my control. What’s your excuse again?” Gerimia retorted.
“Same as always,” I grumbled as I sat down on a barrel.
“What are you doing?” Gerimia barked. “You have someone to talk to.”
“What? What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m not leading this mission. He is. And he is waiting for you down below,” Gerimia said calmly.
No…no way…
“No one told me he was here!” I shouted.
“Too bad for you. He’s your boss, not mine. I’d say I’ll see you again, but that’s only if you survive,” Gerimia said with a shrug.
Gerimia left me to my thoughts. I swallowed the spit pooling in my mouth as my heart thumped in my chest. I was afraid of very little in this world. It was true that brat’s bloodlust was otherworldly, I had never felt that way before. How did he even manage to muster that kind of bloodlust as to make me nearly faint?
Even so…there is one thing I fear the most. A monster pretending to be a Human.
I steeled myself, knowing there was no point in holding off. If I didn’t go to him immediately, my death was guaranteed. With heavy steps, I descended into the belly of the ship.
The bottom of this ship was supposed to be used for cargo only, but a large swath of it had been repurposed into a makeshift church. The darkness was lit by small candles and the heavy feeling only grew as I opened the door.
Kneeling before a golden altar in Amon-Ra’s image was a tanned aging man in his late fifties. His black hair was peppered with streaks of gray, and he wore black armor with golden accents made with Mithril. Rare and large dungeon cores adorned his clothes as a black collar popped up.
I stopped a distance away from him and knelt, my head on the ground. I wasn’t sure how long he made me wait as he mumbled to himself, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, he slowly stood up, and I greeted him.
“Grand Inquisitor, Sir. It’s an honor to be in your most holy presence,” I said, making sure to have as much reverence as possible.
“Alnwar. It’s been some time. Have you been well?” he asked, his deep baritone voice completely void of any concern or emotion.
It was a simple greeting, and he didn’t even bother to turn to face me. It was almost like it was practiced by a monster pretending to be a person, and it sent chills down my spine.
I felt the sweat pool on my back. “I’ve been better, Your Holiness. Thank you for asking your most humble soldier.”
“Good. But Alnwar, tell me, why have you failed in your task?” he asked.
My head dipped lower into the carpet. Sweat dripped from my hair into my eyes, but I dared not to move.
I swallowed and answered, “Please, forgive me. I was not worthy or strong enough to undertake such a task.”
The silence drew on, and after a pause, he said, “Alnwar, you are lacking faith. Our god chose you for this mission. It was a divine mission. Are you doubting our lord’s decisions?”
I bit my tongue and tasted the blood in my mouth as my heart leapt in my chest. It didn’t matter. It never mattered.
Because whatever I said, it was always going to be wrong. A damn monster…a being wearing the skin of a man. That’s who Grand Inquisitor Marks is.
I could hear him turn, and I knew I had to look up. I gazed into his dark green eyes.
“I see. Unfortunately, you are needed for what’s to come, so I can’t send you to Abby On The Hill for reeducating. We will continue this conversation and your punishment at a later date. I recommend you find solace in our lord soon, though,” he said.
My heart sank the moment I heard the name of that infernal place. That was not a holy place. I was hardly an outstanding person, but I was loyal to our cause. And anyone who knew the name of that place…
“I understand, Your Holiness. I’ll do just that.”