Lucien took another step forward. The sound of his boot on the stone was like a hammer striking an anvil. He reached up with his right hand and grabbed the edge of his dark, tattered hood.He pulled it back.The grey light of the Ossuary fell across his face. It was the face of a brother, but the features had been forged in the kiln of hell. His cheekbones were sharper, his jaw was set like iron, and his skin had a faint, metallic sheen, like polished obsidian.But it was his eyes that stopped Cassius’s heart.They weren't brown anymore. They were glowing with a cold, divine light—a mixture of deep, abyssal black and a piercing, celestial white. They looked like they held the secrets of life and death, and they looked at Cassius as if he were nothing more than a memory that had gone sour.Lucien didn't smile. He didn't shout. He just stood there, looking down at the prince of the Empire with an expression of profound, chilling detachment."A ghost," Lucien said softly.He leaned in,

In the distant city of the Empire, the Clan Head of the Saint-Aurelius family looked up. He saw a flash of light that turned the night sky into high noon for a heartbeat. He dropped his cup of wine. He knew what that light was. It was the wrath of the Heavens."He's dead," the Clan Head whispered, a mixture of relief and fear in his voice. "The fool. He stole from the gods, and they have answered."But he was wrong.Deep in the crater, the dust began to settle. The tomb was gone. The Seraph’s bones were gone. There was only a mile-wide hole, perfectly smooth, as if a giant had scooped a chunk out of the earth with a spoon.At the very center of that hole, a small circle of ground remained untouched.Lucien stood there. His cloak was gone. His clothes were charred, but he was alive. His black wings were torn, their feathers of shadow bleeding smoke, but they were still beating, slow and heavy.He held the God-Slaying Spear in his right hand. He was bleeding from his mouth, a thin, bri

For a heartbeat, there was silence. The entire world held its breath. Then, the golden eye shattered. It didn't just break; it liquefied. A deafening, celestial scream tore through the atmosphere, a sound so painful that, miles away, the mountain ranges of the Empire cracked. The eye collapsed into itself, and from the wound where the spear had struck, a waterfall of shimmering, burning golden liquid poured out."Divine blood," Lucien watched, suspended in the air.The golden rain began to fall. It drifted down over the Eternal Ossuary, coating the bones of the giants, the ruins of the shrines, and the scorched earth of the tomb in a layer of liquid glory.[Ding!][Mission Complete: Defy the Heavenly Gaze.][Calculating... Processing Reward...][Level Up!][Level 40... 45... 50... 60... 70!][The God-Devouring Veins have evolved into: Primordial Abyssal Veins.]The golden rain touched Lucien, but instead of burning him, it was absorbed. His body was overflowing. He felt the weight

"Why is it so quiet?" Elian asked. His voice cracked. "Where are the monsters? The scouts said there were millions of undead here just a few days ago."Sir Vane laughed. It was a rough, hard sound. "Do not worry, Elian. You saw the big flash of light in the sky an hour ago, right? That was a holy strike from the heavens. The Clan Head told us what it was. A rogue necromancer was playing with dark magic near the Seraph's Tomb. The gods got angry and blasted the whole place.""But... what if the necromancer is still alive?" Elian asked. He felt a deep, cold fear in his stomach. He could not explain it, but his body was telling him to run away."Alive?" Sir Vane snorted. "Nothing survives a strike from the gods. We are just going there to clean up the mess. We will pick up the pieces, plant our flag, and go home to drink wine. This is an easy mission. Lord-Paladin Kael is just marching us in full armor so we look good for the reports."Elian looked at Lord-Paladin Kael. Kael was still sm

The dark pressure pushed down on the golden army like a giant, invisible hand. Men lay in the dirt, clawing at their throats. The great war horses kicked their legs in the air, their eyes rolling back in terror. The proud Saint-Aurelius Clan, the strongest army in the Empire, was drowning in the middle of a dry, empty crater.Lord-Paladin Kael was on his hands and knees. His face was pushed into the mud. He could not breathe. His chest felt like it was wrapped in tight iron chains. He looked at the boy at the bottom of the crater. Lucien stood there, holding the dark spear, doing nothing at all. He was just standing, and the whole world was breaking around him.Kael’s mind raced. He was a hero. He was a Lord-Paladin. He could not die like this. He could not die without fighting.Kael reached a shaking hand inside his dirty red cape. He felt a small, hard bump hidden in a secret pocket. It was a holy relic. The Clan Head had given it to him before the mission. It was called the Tear