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CHAPTER 43
THE FALL OF TRUSTThe camp no longer felt like a refuge.Lian sensed it the moment he crossed the boundary stones—before anyone spoke, before eyes turned away too quickly, before hands tightened around weapons that should have been lowered in his presence. The air itself felt wrong. Heavy. Fractured.Fear had seeped into the rebels’ bones.Whispers rippled through the clearing as he approached. Conversations died mid-sentence. Someone made the sign against the gods. Someone else stepped back as if his shadow might bite.Lian ignored them and walked on.The fire at the center of camp burned low, its flames dull and colorless. Around it stood the leaders of the rebellion—men and women who had once followed him without question, who had bled for him, who had sworn oaths beneath broken moons.Now they watched him like a weapon that might turn in their hands.Mira stood near the fire, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Relief flashed in her eyes when she saw him—but it was quickly smot
CHAPTER 42
Whispered TruthsThe fire had burned low by the time Mira finally spoke.They had taken shelter beneath the collapsed ribs of an ancient waystation—stone arches half-swallowed by ivy and shadow, far from the roads and far from the palace. Dawn had not yet come. The world hovered in that fragile space between night and morning, where secrets felt heavier and truths harder to bury.Lian sat across from her, back against the cold stone, his cloak discarded. The Blood Key mark along his ribs pulsed faintly beneath his skin, a dull ember that never truly slept. He could feel the Devourer watching, listening—waiting.Mira’s hands trembled where they rested in her lap.“I should have told you sooner,” she said quietly.Lian didn’t answer. He had learned that silence unsettled people more than anger.Mira drew a slow breath, steadying herself. “The gods didn’t create the Seal.”The words landed like a fracture through ice.Lian’s gaze sharpened. “That’s not possible.”“It is,” she said. “An
CHAPTER 41
The Edge of DarknessThe air was thick with tension as Lian stood at the edge of the ruined temple, the oppressive shadow of the Blood Key’s curse gnawing relentlessly at his soul. The storm above mirrored the turmoil within him—roiling, unpredictable, ready to burst. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale feeling like it pulled the dark poison deeper into his veins.Mira’s voice echoed in his mind—a fragile lifeline. “You can fight it, Lian. There’s a way. I found something.” But the god’s voice, cold and commanding, whispered louder, tempting him to surrender.The cursed power clawed at his consciousness, promising strength beyond measure if only he would yield. The altar’s jagged stones seemed to pulse with a sinister life, the ancient runes glowing faintly in the gloom. Lian’s hands trembled as he reached out, a part of him aching to embrace the darkness for the power it offered. But another part, the part that still remembered who he was, screamed to resist.Behind him,
CHAPTER 40
The Queen’s GambitThe palace had not seen this many candles lit since the coronation.They lined the marble corridors in disciplined rows, their flames trembling as if they, too, sensed the tension coiled beneath the celebration. Silk banners fell from the vaulted ceilings—royal blue, blood-red, gold threaded with sigils older than the kingdom itself. Music drifted through the air, soft and ceremonial, yet every note rang too sharp in Serah’s ears.Tonight was meant to reassure the court.Tonight was meant to project strength.And tonight, Serah intended to gamble everything.She stood at the center of the Hall of Crowns, spine straight, chin lifted, her expression carved into calm perfection. Nobles bowed as they passed her, whispering behind jeweled fans and gilded masks. They saw a composed queen regent presiding over a sacred rite.None of them saw the storm inside her.If I misstep tonight, she thought, the kingdom burns.Her gaze slid to the man standing near the eastern pilla
CHAPTER 39
BLOOD AND SHADOWSThe moon rose full and pale above the ruined hills, washing the night in silver light.Lian felt it before he saw it.A pressure beneath his skin. A slow, tightening coil in his chest. The Blood Key burned—not hot, not cold, but aware. As if something inside him had opened one eye and was watching the sky.He stopped walking.The rebels behind him nearly collided into his back before Mira raised a sharp hand, signaling them to halt. She studied Lian’s rigid posture, the way his shoulders were drawn tight, the faint tremor running through his fingers.“Lian?” she whispered. “What is it?”He didn’t answer at first.The god inside him stirred.You feel it too, the Devourer murmured, voice slick and pleased. The moon remembers us.Lian clenched his jaw. Be silent.The Blood Key pulsed in response, a dull crimson glow seeping through his clothes, painting his skin in faint veins of light. Mira inhaled sharply.“It’s happening again,” she said, fear threatening her voice
CHAPTER 38
The Broken SealThe first crack was not seen.It felt.A deep, shuddering vibration rippled through the ground beneath Lian’s boots as he stood at the edge of the ruined watchtower, staring toward the distant mountains. Birds burst from the treeline in a screaming black cloud. Somewhere far off, the stone collapsed. The air itself seemed to recoil, thickening, pressing against his lungs like a held breath that had gone on too long.Lian clenched his jaw.The Seal was failing.He had felt it for days now—subtle at first. A distortion in the flow of power. The Devourer inside him had grown restless, pacing the edges of his consciousness like a caged beast sensing weakness in its bars. But this—this violent tremor—was no whisper.It was a warning.Below him, the valley writhed with movement. Villagers fled along the road, their carts abandoned, faces pale with terror. Smoke rose from a distant farmstead, curling into the bruised sky. Even the light looked wrong—too dim, as though the sun
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