Back in camp, silence looms over the soldiers, broken only by the stoic sobs of grieving survivors. One by one, they lower the corpses recovered hours after the battle into the ground. Garrick's burial will not append here; his body will be sent back to Kingsreach, where a knight's tomb awaits him.
Althea stands stiffly, her eyes swollen with exhaustion and sorrow. She wears a white priestess robe, steeling herself to appear strong when she gives these fifty-three men their last rites.
Althea's eyes drift to Julia's tent, from which she hears muffled sobs. Her feet feel leaden as she approaches. She stops before the tent, taking a deep breath, and raises her hand to part the flap.
Julia sits hunched over Garrick's body, her hands trembling. Her tears fall in streams onto his tunic.
"Julia…" Althea's voice is soft and careful, but the sound breaks the stillness.
Julia whirls around, her face twisted by grief and range. "You!" She rises unsteadily, her eyes blazing with pain. "How dare you show your face to me?"
Althea takes a step back, her chest tightening. "I came to–"
"To what?" Julia spits out the words, stepping closer, her body trembling. "Where were you, Althea? You were supposed to protect him!" She strikes out, her palm connecting with Althea's cheek. It doesn't hurt her, but the emotions it brings draw tears from her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Julia."
"Sorry? Sorry, won't bring him back!" Julia screams, her voice cracking. "All you damn power that everyone praises you for, your strength, your invincibility, and your damn holiness – and still, he's gone!" Her hands clench into fists, her shoulders heaving with sobs. She glares at Althea, hatred mingling with despair.
'It's unfair,' Althea thinks, unable to speak it. 'I did everything I could. Take your anger on those who killed him, not me! It's them who need to pay for it.'
Julia collapses back into her chair. "Get out," she whispers, her voice hollow. "Get out."
"I'm sorry," Althea repeats, knowing how meaningless it sounds. She turns and leaves the tent. Outside, the cold evening air bites at her skin. She shouldn't be capable of feeling cold, but she knows that it's her soul that suffers it.
Drying her tears, she moves back to the edge of the camp. Armand joins her as the last body is placed into the ground. The crowd hushes. Some shift uncomfortably, unsure how to behave; others stare into the distance, scared.
"It is my first time losing so many at once," Armand whispers, for only her to hear. "It feels… wrong. The way it happened, we didn't stand a chance. It wasn't a fight; it isn't how a fight should be."
"You've been sheltered all your life, promised glorious combats filled with honor and glory," Althea whispers. "This is the real world. Where countless die because you underestimated an opponent. One day you'll enter a lair, and only a handful of you will come out. Too bad you were the ones who had to report its horrors. And when that happens, they will hate you for it, because you weren't strong enough to save all of them."
He grabs her shoulder as tears steam down her face and hands her a handkerchief. She wipes off her tears, and he stops his with his thumb. "Who can fight against that?"
"Very few," Althea answers. She recalls images of her time as an adventurer – faces she will never see again. "But they die too; everyone does. … I'm sorry, I know I should be the one you can rely on for spiritual guidance, but today, I can't."
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"It's not for me you need to be strong, but for all of those behind us," Armand says. "A few more minutes, and then you'll be able to mourn."
The soldiers clear the improvised cemetery, leaving Althea and Armand alone before it.
"Radiant Lord of Light," she begins. "We humbly beseech you to extend your divine protection over the soul of our departed one. In your boundless mercy, shelter them within the warmth of your eternal glow. May they find solace and purpose as an eternal servant of your divine presence."
Althea's voice is strong but tempered with a tremor of grief. "In this hour of darkness, let us remember their courage and the duty they embraced. We serve and protect without fear, even in the face of our own demise. As we commit their bodies to the earth, we pledge to carry forth their memory and their purpose. They shall not be forgotten."
She pauses, taking a shaking breath before clasping her symbol of Seraphel. A faint glow radiates from the sigil, beaconing the crowd to bow their heads. Unwillingly summoned light Ether flows through Althea, comforting her with a heat that dispels her grief. Anger replaces it, a hatred for those who took her friend and mentor.
Seraphel's sigil carves itself below her feet, shining golden light upon the attendance faces. Another sigil mixes with it, the mark of oaths – an ancient version of the Eldorian rune of the same meaning. Armand moves away from her and drops to one knee, bowing towards her. The soldiers, squires, and Leofric imitate him, unsure of what is happening.
"What must I do?" Althea murmurs, as much to her god as to Armand, who seems to know what is happening.
Armand raises his head slightly, refusing to gaze upon Seraphel's light. "The legends speak of Paladins vowing new oaths in times of crisis to bring them power and purpose. Be careful; just like breaking your initial oath, it would be disastrous if you broke this one."
It has been seven years since she took her oath, and it stayed the same even when becoming an Adjudicator. Choosing this class, she fought she would be sent to fight Seraphel's greatest battles. Maybe that time has finally come.
The Ether around Althea vibrates, a hum resonating through her bones. Memories of Garrick flood her – his face, his voice, his teachings, and his final, agonizing scream.
Althea closes her eyes, feeling the heat of Seraphel's light coursing through her. Her heart pounds against her chest as she raises her head, shoulders squared. "Radiant Lord of Light, in your Ether I stand, and by your will, I swear this new oath." Her voice rings clear, carried by the Ether.
"I vow to hunt those who would strike from the shadows, who seek to sow chaos and despair among the innocent. By my shield, I will protect those who cannot protect themselves. By my blade, I will strike down the wicked, the assassins, and the spawns of darkness that live amongst men. I will have no mercy for the wicked and shall exterminate them by any means necessary." The last sentence escapes her as if it weren't hers. It doesn't matter; she accepts it.
The sigils below her feet burn brighter, spiraling upward as radiant tendrils wrap around her. Her white clothing shines with blinding light. light Ether engulfs itself in her, blinding her senses.
It subsides, leaving her breathless yet unshaken. Silence falls upon the camp once more. A voice breaks it, deep, rolling like thunder. "This oath is accepted."
"You obtained the Second Oath title," the elder God announces. "Seven characteristic points have been granted. You obtained the Killers' tally talent. You obtained the Vow of destruction ability."
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From: Maj. Ava Rook (O-4)
To: Col. Oliver Carver (O-6)
Subject: Initial assessment of Earth-2 Military Capabilities
Sir,
The situation on Earth-2 remains volatile. A gunfight broke out when a member of the unidentified military fired an arrow on a reconnaissance unit. The encounter highlighted our technological and strategic supremacy over their foot soldiers. Attached, you will find a detailed report containing a list of standardized units deployed, an estimated command hierarchy, and profiles of their more unique combatants.
Summary: Earth-2 soldiers exhibit enhanced durability compared to standard human combatants. Their tactics and weaponry align with medieval technology. Our fear of finding their ranks filled with powerful individuals such as the labyrinth-1 group A was unfunded, except for three of them. Notably, some of their personnel demonstrate resistance to high-caliber rounds but remain vulnerable to anti-tank weapons, such as the M72 LAW.
The securitization of our foothold enters its final steps and should be achieved in sixty hours. However, I must reiterate my disagreement with the president's wish to visit Earth-2. There are many unknown variables we do not yet control.
Respectfully,
Maj. Ava Rook (O-4)