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The road westward through the rest of Ecclesia was surrounded by golden fields and grassy, rolling hills. Although it was cloudy when we set out, the earlier warm weather had ripened the land, and the air carried a gentle warmth with the promise of future sunlight. Rows of crops swayed in the breeze, and distant farmsteads dotted the horizon, their thatched roofs glinting with the last remnants of rain. Wildflowers lined the road’s edges, bright orange and purple bursts almost out of place as they bobbed their heads, untouched by a care in the world.
The Order of the White set a brisk pace, far faster than the heavy, deliberate marches I’d grown used to under Captain Corwin. Their horses were quick and agile, clearly chosen for speed, and their riders carried only the essentials: weapons, bolts, and a few supplies strapped to their saddles. A few knights in full plate rode among them, but their mounts showed no strain under the extra weight. Instead of large, lumbering supply wagons, the army used small carts to haul what wouldn’t fit on their persons. The rhythmic pounding of hooves on the hard-packed dirt echoed endlessly as we made our way west, their sound matching the ache building in my legs and back. Aurum seemed annoyed by my routine squirming, but I couldn’t help it—I wasn’t used to riding for such long stretches.
We often rode late into the evening, summer granting us a few extra hours of light. About an hour before sunset, we would halt to refuel and recover. During those evenings, I devoted my time to reading through the hero manual.
That wasn’t its official title, of course. Its full name was Sacred Chronicle of God’s Chosen, and ostensibly, it was named by its first owner, Captain Raeanna Ironwrath. Her entries at the beginning of the book were my studied focus. She was the only one to face the General directly, and though I had witnessed her final moments in a dream, I knew I needed more details.
“What have you learned so far?” Nora asked after dinner one evening. “Any new powers?”
“No,” I sighed in disgust. “It’s mostly just praise and self-proclaimed superiority. Look here.” I held out the book, tapping a passage halfway down the page.
“No weapon forged by mortal hands could withstand my divine power,” Nora read aloud. “And so, the Goddess herself forged a sword from her very own star. I have become her blade, my every strike an act of… holy… righteousness.” She choked on the final few words. “Wow. She doesn’t even mention the Faith of Euphrida.”
“She probably thought shields weren’t as sublime,” I mused, only to be jerked sideways by the very shield in question with an angry, tympanic bang.
That’s not my opinion at all,” I quickly corrected. “I’m very grateful for your assistance.”
A slightly off-key trill of a flute filled my ears. I decided to interpret it as Faith’s reluctant acceptance of my apology. After sitting upright again, I shook my head and continued. “Here’s another stellar entry.”
I cleared my throat and adopted a rough base. “‘Today, I faced a demon stronger than any I have encountered. Yet even it fell before my holy blade with a single strike, unable to withstand the righteousness of my cause. The General, the so-called strategist of the demon army, shall also soon know the wrath of God’s Chosen. No demon, no matter how skilled, can match my prowess in combat.’”
Nora winced, clearly recalling how that battle had actually ended. “Maybe you should skim through the Chronicle,” she suggested. “There’s a lot of… heavy stuff. Maybe not all of it is helpful—or even healthy.”
“Honestly, I wanted to at first,” I admitted. “But something tells me I need to understand her as well… Whether we end up collaborating or confronting each other. Either way, I should know what to expect.”
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Nora leaned closer and whispered, “Has she said anything else lately?”
I shook my head. “After I yelled, everyone’s been relatively quiet. I haven’t tried reaching out either.”
I was ashamed to admit that I enjoyed the silence. I had too many feelings to sort out about the upcoming fight, and someone else constantly weighing in on my unspoken emotions wouldn’t help my sanity.
Nora glanced around before sighing. “I wish I could give you some definitive advice, but…”
I offered her a small smile. “Just admitting you don’t know what’s best helps more than you think.”
Her lips twisted into a mock frown. “That’s harsh, you know. Pointing out I’m not perfect.”
“There’s strength in acknowledging imperfection. It means you have room to grow.”
“Mmm… Wonder what Raeanna would’ve been like if she’d had such insight,” Nora murmured.
“Well, actually…” I flipped to a page I had dog-eared. “It is lonely, being the Chosen One,” I read. “‘Few understand the burden I carry or the sacrifices I make. But loneliness is a small price to pay for the glory of fulfilling the Goddess’s will. With my Purpose fulfilled, I will rejoice with Humanity. Perhaps the safety and peace I usher in will secure me a seat at their table.’”
“Oh my…” Nora’s eyes misted, and I quickly looked away to avoid catching her emotions. “Now you’ve made her sound human.”
“Yeah… Flaws and all.”
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Relias, often lost in his thoughts during the journey, confirmed our suspicions about Raeanna one afternoon during a brief rest.
“Yes, she was… strong-willed,” he conceded. “She had a striking presence, towering over even the tallest men. By her side, even I was considered short.”
“Who challenged whom?” I finally asked. “Was it the General, or…”
Relias inhaled deeply. “Raeanna believed the best path was always the most direct. Never bested before, I could not convince her that defeat was even a possibility. It was my folly that—”
“How did you make it through his horde?” I interrupted, not wanting to suggest I was looking to blame anyone.
“He wanted to face her in single combat as much as she did,” Relias admitted. “He commanded his minions not to engage us. Had he defeated her honorably, he might have rivaled his father’s rule over their kind. Of course, driven in his desperation, he ultimately resorted to his sinful ways.”
“Relias… why do you think the General wants to fight me? Is he trying to rewrite history in his favor?”
He nodded. “From what we’ve seen, he struggles to rule even those he creates, let alone those swayed to join him. Defeating the Chosen One would solidify his power and strike fear into his enemies.”
“Those swayed to join him… like some of the hybrids?”
Relias stiffened. “Former hybrids and humans, you mean. Those who forsake their Humanity have no right to such titles. They are no different from the demons we are sworn to oppose.”
“What if they were tricked?” I pressed. “Or threatened into joining? In those cases, would it really be their fault?”
He paused, his lips pursing. “I want to believe that is the only way they could have been recruited…” He exhaled forcefully. “I will entertain the idea, knowing that demons are insidious in nature.”
“I wonder how he treats his recruits,” I murmured. “Does he use them as frontline fodder?”
“Captain Sonea swears no such entities have been seen in her engagements,” Relias replied. “Only true demon-borne have risen at the border in Porta.”
“Why would he bother to recruit fighters he won’t use?”
“Given what I know of him, I find it impossible to believe he would allow them to fight alongside his progeny. For him, war, violence, and death are not merely tools—they are his sacred Purpose, and those not of his kind would not be worthy of indulging in such acts. No, he must have another plan for them, something far more nefarious.”
This was the most I’d gotten from him without one of us losing composure. “Tell me what you think—”
“We must not speak of this before Tetora,” Relias interrupted, lowering his voice. “The reports I read in Chairo suggest his sister is one that is long since lost. But without proof, voicing such fears would be unwise—and cruel. Speculation brings no peace where hope might yet live.”
“Hope? Then, you think we might be able to get them back—”
“With the General’s fall, yes. Their contracts would most certainly bind them to him,” he replied, standing as our companions approached. “Ah, is it time to ride already?”
Tetora’s sharp gaze flicked between us, suspicion plain in his eyes. I was certain he’d heard every word, despite Relias’s attempt at discretion. “No,” he said bluntly. Then, jabbing an iron claw at me, added, “…But that one has been neglecting her sword lessons—for reading, of all things!”
I was planning my next move! Hadn’t he ever heard of take a look—it’s in a book?
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