Path of the Forsaken Sigil

Chapter 42

Bruce gasped. It felt like plunging his burning arm into a bucket of freezing, soothing snow. The blue liquid sizzled as it touched the holy burns. The dark, cracked blisters stopped smoking. The terrible, agonizing pain that had been clouding his mind completely vanished. 

The medicine soaked into his skin, traveling directly into his chest. His cracked mana core eagerly drank the healing magic. The sharp stabbing pain in his soul dulled into a quiet ache. 

Bruce opened and closed his right hand. His fingers moved perfectly. He was not completely healed, but his Void-Forged Body was functional again. He had his strength back. 

"Thank you, Elara," Bruce said, looking her in the eyes. "I will never forget this."

Bruce stood up. He pulled the heavy brown cloak off his shoulders and let it drop into the dirty sewer water. He didn't need to hide anymore. He needed them to see him. 

"Which way is the Northern Gate?" Bruce asked. 

Elara pointed down a long, dark tunnel to the right. "Follow the water flow. It leads directly to the main storm drain right in front of the Northern Gate plaza. But please, be careful. The Iron-Guard is ruthless."

"They should be the ones who are careful," Bruce said coldly. 

The silver fire in his eyes flared to life, glowing so brightly that Elara did not even need her green crystal to see him anymore. Bruce turned his back and walked down the dark tunnel, his bare feet splashing in the water. 

Above ground, the rain was pouring down in thick, heavy sheets. The Northern Gate of Oakhaven was a massive, terrifying structure. It was an eighty-foot-tall wall made of solid black iron and dark stone. It was the only exit leading directly into the dangerous wilderness of the Gray Wastes. 

Standing on the high wall above the gate was Lady Hestia. 

The Matriarch of the Iron-Heart Clan looked completely different from the proud, arrogant woman who had stood in the plaza that morning. Her beautiful, expensive silk robes were torn and covered in soot. Her silver hair was messy and wet with rain. There was a deep, bleeding cut on her cheek from the explosion in the Catacombs. 

But worst of all, she looked completely desperate. 

Hestia had lost the battery farm. She had lost her secret deal with the High Inquisitor. Her entire empire was falling apart because of one nineteen-year-old bastard boy. 

"He will come this way," Hestia muttered to herself, gripping the stone edge of the wall. She looked down at the empty, rain-slicked plaza in front of the gate. "The Inquisition is blocking the south and the east. The boy has to run north to the Wastes. I know he will come here."

Hestia turned around to face her soldiers. 

She had gathered the remaining fifty members of the elite Iron-Guard. They were not the Dungeon Guards with their stolen, artificial magic. These were the true, loyal soldiers of the Iron-Heart Clan. They were huge men and women, wearing heavy, shining silver-iron armor. Each of them held a long spear or a heavy broadsword that hummed with pure elemental magic. 

"Listen to me!" Hestia shouted over the roaring rain. Her voice was magically amplified, carrying down to the soldiers standing in the plaza below. "The Void-Born boy is a demon! He has killed your brothers! He is trying to destroy our city!"

The fifty guards stood in perfect, disciplined lines. They raised their weapons, ready to follow her orders to the death. 

"Do not let him take one step past this gate!" Hestia screamed. "If you see him, you do not ask questions! You do not try to capture him! You kill him! You burn him to ash!"

Hestia reached into her robes and pulled out a large, heavy key made of glowing blue metal. She walked over to a stone pedestal on the wall and shoved the key into a deep slot. She turned the key. 

WUMMMMM. A massive, deep vibration shook the earth. 

The city’s Runic Defense Array activated. 

All along the eighty-foot iron gate, massive magical runes began to glow with a blinding, bright blue light. The magic shot upward and connected together, forming a shimmering, solid wall of hard-light and iron-magic. The barrier covered the entire exit. It was a shield designed to withstand a siege from an entire army of monsters. 

The rain hissed and turned to steam as it hit the glowing blue barrier. 

"Now," Hestia whispered, a cruel, crazy smile forming on her bloody face. "Let the little rat try to run."

The plaza in front of the Northern Gate was completely empty. The commoners who lived in the nearby buildings had locked their doors and closed their wooden window shutters. They peeked through the cracks, terrified of the soldiers and the glowing blue wall. 

Then, the heavy iron cover of a storm drain in the middle of the plaza began to move. 

CLANG.

The heavy cover was pushed completely out of the way, flipping over and splashing onto the wet cobblestones.