Kaldiro sighed. He stood before Perhey’s remains and rubbed his temples.

“What now?” Grigory raised an important question. “Uh, Sir. He added.

“What, indeed.” Kladiro was thinking. So much had gone awry. His position at the temple was already precarious, and now- “Gather what got left of the boy. His father will wish to say his farewells, even if proper burial won’t be a possibility.”

The only reason Kaldiro still had sway in the Temple’s hierarchy was his strength and seniority. He was old. Much too old. His body wasn’t what it once was, and his mind was growing sluggish. There was a time when he would have triumphed over Silinth graciously.

Reminiscing about the old days was another sign of old age. Kaldiro shook his head. He was escaping the reality. He would have to give a proper explanation to Timrom as to why his son was dead.

Not to mention the rest of the poor souls. Kaldiro sighed again. The Temple of Eternity was already looked at unfavourably in this kingdom. And now guards had died under his leadership. There was nothing he could say to the mayor of Gerakril to justify these losses.

All of the blame would fall on him. Head Priests would have his head if he wasn’t so well-liked among the populace and looked upon favourably by God. Maybe they will still have it.

This was a giant fuckup. Kaldiro hated vulgarity, but at this moment, he wanted to scream and curse.

The Temple had made it clear he was on his own out here. They were embroiled in their own political games, vying for more power and influence. It had left Kaldiro without proper support.

Of course, he could have waited. Kaldiro could have found more help. He could have done proper research and prepared more. But he had wanted to get away from the politics and tie up some loose ends left from the past.

Heretics had lost most of their powerful fighters to his might. And yet, Silinth was alive and fiercer than Kaldiro could have ever predicted.

How long ago was it? Sixty years? No, no, maybe seventy? Kaldiro paused. It didn’t matter. Someone had taught the boy, and he had grown up to be a powerful fighter.

Kaldiro felt Grigory return with a wooden box in his hand. He remembered the cart used as bait having some of those.

“They have scared away all the horses. We will have to walk.” Grigory mumbled. “Sir.” He finally added.

Another annoyance. But only that. Kaldiro’s old bones needed some exercise, as today had proved. He would breathe some fresh air. Enjoy nature and listen to birds singing. It sounded nice, actually.

And he was escaping reality once again. Kaldiro pulled himself together. His thoughts turned to Grigory. He was a rough man, as were his subordinates.

Not that Kaldiro had a room to talk with Perhey hoisted on his shoulders. Everyone hated the boy. He was rash, rude and cruel. Not at all what Temple was looking for. But his father was wealthy. One of the most influential merchants in the capital, if not the whole Empire. He had paid for his son’s way into the clergy.

As for Grigory, he was a mercenary. Or was. After Kaldiro had saved the man’s son, he had sworn his loyalty to the Temple. His men had followed. They were not good men. But they were loyal and willing to work. And now they were dead. Robbed of a chance to redeem themselves in the eye of God.

There was no one else to blame but himself. Kaldiro sighed. It was growing into a habit. He shouldn’t sigh so often. Back when little Lolpy was still alive, she chastised him relentlessly for acting like this.

Alas, his love had left him early. Now, only the memory of her warmed Kaldiro’s tired heart. Everyone he once loved had left him, succumbing to the time. He was old, much too old.

Where was he? Kaldiro rummaged through his thoughts. “Ah,” He sighed. Temple edicts were clear. God had made it clear to him as well. “Grigory, I am sorry.” He bowed deeply.

“Uh, that’s, I-” Grigory stumbled over what to say. “I am, too.” He finally admitted. “They were my men, and I failed them.”

“Forgive me.” Kaldiro kept bowing a while longer before straightening his back. He raised his hand and removed the makeshift eye cover. “I’ll see to your family having a decent living.” He opened his eyes and looked at Grigory, who looked back with incomprehension.

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The judgement was instant. Kaldiro’s last subordinate died without struggle. The divine flame burned until nothing was left. He made sure of it.

Another sigh. Kaldiro was tired and old. How many lives had he taken over his long life? He had lost the count so long ago. When was it? When he purged that village? What was its name? Pru- No, no. It was Pri-something.

But there was no other choice. No one was allowed to know about the corruption. Kaldiro was an exception to the rule, but only so he could hunt down those who did.

And somehow, Silinth knew. “So complicated.” He murmured and picked up the box with Perhey’s remains. “What now, indeed.”

How did Silinth learn of this? From where? Did he teach about it to the children? No. No, he wouldn’t. They were too weak. They would not survive it - not in the long term.

Kaldiro looked at the spot where the corruption had been contained and eliminated. It had taken him most of the day. Deadly thing it was. Resilient and persistent. Forbidden to exist in this world, and yet, it somehow did.

“Too dangerous,” Kaldiro concluded. He could not chase after Silinth. Not in the state he was in. It had been forever since he had exhausted his reserves like this. Calling upon the divine took too much out of him.

It meant returning to the Empire. It wasn’t likely they would allow him to resume the hunt. They would send someone else. Not a single hunter, of course. They needed to track down Silinth and his pupils. It could not be done by a lone person. Not even a squad would be enough.

But would the Kingdom allow such a large force to enter its borders unimpeded? No. No, they wouldn’t. Concessions had to be made, and an agreement had to be reached.

Yes. Silinth could not be allowed to roam with the knowledge he had. Even if he was now not long for this world. Not after what he had done.

Kaldiro nodded to himself. He understood it would be hard to get rid of such a capable fighter, but they had to.

Only the most senior members of the Temple were allowed to know about corruption and only those who had divine protection guarding them.

It meant a lot of political wrangling. The Temple would not be able to give a clear explanation for their sudden interest in the Kingdom. He would stay out of it. Kaldiro’s duty was to report for now.

And what about those children? They were another headache. They could not be allowed to live, but Kaldiro could not bring himself to kill them.

Children had always been his weakness. It was part of how Silinth had survived all those years ago. Kaldiro had not put his heart into the slaughter. He had hesitated and had to pay for it now.

And there was more. There always was. Two of those children were far too strange. No, three of them. There was that hard-to-notice girl as well.

Kaldiro paused his step. How was that possible? He spent most of his time blind. He perceived the world differently from how others did, and yet he had missed the girl completely until she revealed herself.

And what about that beast tamer? The bird he controlled was too strange. It was clearly intelligent and was able to communicate with his bond without issues. It was strong as well, for a chick. If the tamer gained more beasts and raised them properly, he would become a menace to face.

Then, there was the shield bearer. Kaldiro recalled the barrier that stopped heath, cold, mass and energy. It was too versatile for how strong it was. Was that shield in her hand an artefact? But it didn’t feel like one and had formed directly in her hand.

And the accent the tamer and shield bearer had. It was alien to him. Kaldiro knew most of the languages in use. His work demanded it. But this accent he couldn’t place. Something about it bothered him.

The hard-to-detect girl had an accent too. But it was another mix he could not place. It reminded him of years past. Back when he didn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night to relieve himself.

There were two other children in the group - skilled for their age. With proper care, they would grow into capable warriors if they chose to.

And yet, they all would soon face the hunting dogs of the Temple. Their death was necessary. They could not be allowed to live.

Kaldiro sighed. Lolpy would hate to see him like this. She would clap on his back and tell him to man up. He missed her. She was his light. While God steered his life, his wife had been his port. His safe haven. She was no more.

“So old, so old,” Kaldiro muttered. Maybe he should visit the orphanage he sponsored upon returning? Those brats always knew how to rattle his old bones. They made him feel younger.

That place was one of the few things he was not ashamed to be a part of. It had been Lolpy’s wish that Kaldiro established one. He was bad at management, but his work for God rewarded him with enough funds to build an orphanage.

The orphans were his children. His and Lolpy’s. They never had one of their own. But now he had plenty of substitute children to take care of. The thought of the brats brought a rare smile to Kaldiro’s face.

Then he remembered the box in his hands. His good cheer vanished as if it had never existed.

Perhaps there were other ways the Temple could utilise. There were always people hungry for money. It wasn’t likely they would be able to kill any of their targets, but making their life miserable was possible.

Kaldiro sighed. “Sorry, Lolpy. I know you hate it, but-” He looked towards the sun. “It’s tough. I miss you.” His shoulders sagged as he continued walking towards the town.

Just an old man, tired of life.