I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE GRAVEYARD

The Soul-Cinder

Captain Theron Ashfall's explosive finale wasn't your typical campfire blaze. It was a solar eruption, intense and concentrated, which vaporized the stagnant water in the aqueduct, sending waves of searing heat and pressure outward. The stone walls couldn't withstand the heat and transformed into molten glass, glowing ominously.

Despite the blinding light, Theron gritted his teeth, aiming the fiery blades of his poleaxe at Exodus's head. He didn't fear death. A son of Solis would take his enemy down with him if that's what it took.

"Die, spirit!" Theron shouted, his armor melting away in streams of liquid brass.

Exodus Thorne, however, remained unfazed. He didn't raise his sword to block the attack. Instead, he reached out and caught the superheated blade with his bare hand.

The clash of elemental forces screamed through the underground chamber. The icy void of the Graveyard collided with the fire at its peak. Theron's disbelief was palpable as he watched his axe's flames freeze, turning a fragile emerald green before shattering into icy shards.

"Your fire shines bright, Theron," Exodus said, his deep voice resonating within Theron's bones. "But it draws from mortal energy. The Graveyard thrives on the eternal forgotten."

With a twist of his wrist, Exodus snapped the poleaxe into pieces. Before Theron could react, Exodus pressed his cold hand against Theron's chestplate, pinning him to a melting stone pillar.

Dark energy surged through the contact. Theron gasped as the Graveyard's icy mist invaded his body, freezing his mana channels. His vision blurred, and he found himself in an endless gray cemetery, beside a fresh gravestone marked with his own name.

Spectral hands emerged from the ground, gripping his ankles tightly.

"No..." Theron gasped, reality snapping back to the dark aqueduct. "Marius... will turn you to ash..."

"Marius is already dead, Theron," Exodus replied softly, "though he still breathes."

Exodus closed his eyes, fully unleashing his power. The emerald runes on his sword blazed, pulling the core of Theron's soul from his body. Theron's eyes rolled back as his essence was drawn into the earth.

The chasm closed with a thunderous boom, leaving no trace of Theron Ashfall.

Exodus absorbed the pyromancer's core, feeling a new, dangerous power settle within him. His body adapted, and the veins across his torso glowed with a green fire. He had gained a new ability: *Ghost-Fire*. A cold flame danced across his knuckles, burning spiritual essence rather than flesh.

*Two graves filled,* echoed a dry whisper in his mind. *The remaining seven scatter like mice. The golden one readies his defenses.*

Exodus extinguished the flame, sensing panic ripple across the capital. Two captains had vanished in two days. The illusion of safety was shattered.

---

Aboveground, in the Intelligence Headquarters, Lyra Moonwhisper sat at her desk, trembling as a sharp pain pierced her chest.

The mark over her heart throbbed painfully. She gasped as the room's temperature plummeted, frost forming on her papers. She felt the exact moment Theron's flame was snuffed out.

"Two..." she whispered, guilt overwhelming her. "He took Theron."

The silence shattered as the doors to her office crashed open.

Lyra jumped to her feet, reaching for her dagger, but stopped. General Viktor Stormborn stood in the doorway, flanked by inquisitors carrying spears wrapped in anti-necromancy chains. Their golden armor hummed with magic.

Viktor looked less like an investigator and more like an executioner. His face was a mask as he surveyed the room, his sword drawn.

"General," Lyra stammered, trying to regain control. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The under-market purge was a diversion, Lyra," Viktor's voice cut through the tension, "Marius’s men found more than they bargained for."

He stepped closer, eyes fixed on the frost around her collar.

"They found the Western Gate captain," Viktor continued, tightening his grip on his sword. "He never signed the papers you claimed. The ledger was a forgery."

Lyra's heart froze. Her pulse raced, and the mark on her ribs throbbed, threatening to silence her. The alibi had crumbled. Marius’s team had outpaced her.

"General, please—" Lyra tried, stepping back.

"Silence, traitor," Viktor's voice roared, filled with betrayal. He pointed his sword at her throat. The inquisitors advanced, forming an inescapable circle with their chains.

"Marius wants you dead by dawn," Viktor growled, his eyes cold. "But first, we need answers. Tie her up. If she refuses to reveal her master's name, we'll extract the truth by force."

Lyra backed against the window, her fingers trembling. She had no escape. If she confessed about Exodus, the curse would kill her. If she stayed silent, Viktor would.

The chains whistled through the air, reaching for her wrists as Viktor stepped forward to end it all.