Path of the Forsaken Sigil

Chapter 45

The giant fist, the size of a small house, came crashing down. It was made of rusted iron, dark stone, and glowing red hard-light. 

Lady Hestia, now a hideous, mutated monster fused entirely with the eighty-foot Northern Gate, let out a deafening roar as she struck. She wanted to smash Bruce Thompson into a bloody paste on the wet cobblestones. 

Bruce did not freeze. The glowing blue medicine he had received from Elara the slum-girl was working perfectly. His burned right arm was numb to the pain, and his cracked mana core was stable. 

With his Void-Forged Body, Bruce pushed off the ground. He leaped backward with incredible, unnatural speed. 

BOOM!

Hestia’s massive fist slammed into the exact spot where Bruce had been standing a split second before. The impact was like a falling meteor. The ground shook violently. Dozens of heavy cobblestones shattered into sharp pieces of flying rock. A huge crater was left in the street, rapidly filling with the freezing, dirty rain. 

Bruce landed safely twenty feet away. He crouched low, his silver eyes completely focused on the nightmare in front of him. 

Hestia pulled her giant fist out of the crater. The metal of the gate groaned and shrieked as she moved. Her monstrous face, stretched across the iron bars of the gate, twisted into a mask of pure, ugly rage. Her teeth were jagged, rusty spikes. Her eyes burned with the sick, bloody magic she had swallowed. 

"DO NOT RUN FROM ME, BASTARD!" Hestia’s voice boomed. It did not sound like a woman anymore. It sounded like grinding metal and roaring fire. 

She realized she was huge and strong, but she was also slow. She was attached to the wall. She needed Bruce to hold still so she could crush him. 

Hestia looked past Bruce, staring down the dark, rainy streets of the city. 

"GUARDS!" Hestia roared. Her magical voice echoed for miles. "If you run from me, I will hunt you down! I will eat your wives! I will crush your children! Return to the plaza and kill the boy, or you will all die screaming!"

Her threat worked. To the soldiers of the Iron-Heart Clan, Lady Hestia had always been a terrifying leader. But this new, monstrous version of her was a literal god of nightmares. 

The twenty heavy infantry guards who had run away into the alleys slowly stopped. They turned around, their faces pale with terror. They knew they could not hide from her. Trembling, they picked up their dropped spears and swords. They slowly walked back into the wide, rain-slicked plaza, forming a wide circle behind Bruce. 

Up on the high stone walls flanking the massive gate, the twenty archers had never left. They had been too afraid to climb down. 

"Fire!" Hestia screamed at them. "Pin the rat to the ground!"

The captain of the archers, shaking with fear, raised his hand. "Nock your arrows! Prepare the magic! Aim for the boy in the brown pants!"

High above, the twenty archers pulled back the heavy strings of their iron crossbows. 

On the ground behind Bruce, the returning guards raised their spears. They activated their elemental magic. 

Suddenly, the dark, rainy night lit up with a dozen different colors. Bright red fire, crackling yellow lightning, freezing blue ice, and sharp green wind magic filled the plaza. The Iron-Guard was throwing everything they had at a single, nineteen-year-old boy. 

"FIRE!" the captain yelled. 

A massive barrage of elemental arrows and spears rained down from the sky. At the same time, the guards on the ground threw their magical javelins. It was a wall of deadly magic, flying directly at Bruce from every single direction. There was nowhere to run. There was nowhere to hide. 

Bruce stood in the center of the plaza. He did not flinch. He did not even take a step back. 

He looked down at his own dark shadow cast by the flashing magical lights. 

"Now," Bruce whispered calmly. 

The puddle of muddy water beneath Bruce’s feet suddenly erupted. Thick, heavy black smoke exploded out of his shadow. 

The Ashen Seraph rose. 

The giant angel of darkness was still deeply wounded from the holy fire in the Deepest Vault. Its silver bone mask was cracked. Its body leaked gray ash. But the Seraph did not care about its own pain. It had sworn an oath to protect the boy. 

The Seraph stood tall behind Bruce. It let out a low, vibrating hiss that made the falling rain vibrate in the air. 

With a powerful snap, the Seraph expanded its six massive wings. The dark, smoky feathers stretched out wide, forming a perfect, solid dome over Bruce and the angel. This was the Ashen Shield. It was made of pure, concentrated Void magic. It was a piece of the absolute darkness.