Chapter 112
Author: Yeshua Yin
last update2025-09-17 23:45:11

The chapel was nothing but ruins. Its walls leaned inward, black with soot. Its roof had collapsed long ago, leaving the stars to watch from above.

The air smelled of smoke and rot, and the ground was littered with broken stone and half-burned icons.

This was where Mason’s band rested after their last battle. But it did not feel like rest. Men sharpened blades with shaking hands.

Women stared into the ashes of small campfires, their eyes empty. Children curled against one another, too tired to cry but unable to sleep. The silence pressed heavy on all of them.

Norra sat by Mason’s side. He leaned against a broken column, his skin pale, his breath shallow.

His silver eyes glowed faintly in the dark, a light that looked less like strength and more like a wound.

She watched him in silence, her heart heavy. Every time he unleashed the fire, she thought it would be the last. She thought he would not rise again. Yet he always did, slower, weaker, but still burning.

Her small hands clenche
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  • Chapter 119

    The fall had no end. Mason’s body tore through fire and shadow, his senses shattering as the world above vanished. The roar of the rift swallowed everything. Heat and cold struck him at once, tearing at his skin, burning his lungs with every breath. His fire flared, then guttered, flared again, each spark dragged from his dying body.He did not know if he screamed. He did not know if he was alive. He only knew he was falling, and Vazquez fell with him.The god’s laughter shook the void, a sound that was not sound but pressure, breaking into Mason’s mind. “You dare bring me into my own womb? Fool. Here, I am everything. Here, you are nothing.”Mason’s eyes, silver and dim, opened against the dark. Around him stretched no sky, no ground, only endless rivers of black-red fire twisting like serpents in a sea of shadow.Shapes moved within them, screaming faces, claws reaching, whispers hissing. The air itself pressed down heavy and thick. His chest heaved, but each breath only dragged in

  • Chapter 118

    The valley shook as Vazquez’s laughter rolled through the air. The half-formed god towered above them, his massive body cracked and bleeding shadow, but his black-red eyes burned stronger than ever. The wound in his chest leaked smoke, yet it did not weaken him.it only seemed to feed his rage.Above, the rift yawned wider, spilling rivers of black-red fire into the sky. The air grew heavier, the ground cracked underfoot, and the chants of the remaining priests rose again in dreadful harmony.Mason lay limp in Norra’s arms, his body ruined. His breath came shallow, his skin blistered and torn, his silver eyes half-shut. For a moment, it seemed he had given all he had, that the fire was finally gone.Norra shook him, her tears falling onto his face. “Please,” she whispered, “don’t do this. Don’t leave me. Stay down, just stay alive.”But Mason’s lips moved. A whisper escaped, faint but firm. “If I stay down… everyone dies.”Norra’s heart broke with every word. She pressed her forehead

  • Chapter 117

    The world was noise and shadow. Mason lay on the ground, his chest heaving, his skin torn and blistered. Every breath tasted of ash. The air was so heavy he thought his lungs would collapse. His vision blurred in and out, silver light dimming at the edges of his sight.But he was not gone. Not yet He heard the battle. The clash of blades. The screams of men and women. Norra’s voice calling his name again and again, broken by sobs. John’s commands, sharp as iron, forcing the survivors to hold the line, and above it all, the laughter. Vazquez’s laughter.The half-formed god strode across the battlefield, smoke and fire dripping from the wound in his chest. His body flickered, shadow unraveling, but he did not fall. He grew. He swelled. The crack Mason had burned into him only seemed to fuel his rage.“You think you have hurt me?” Vazquez thundered, his voice shaking the valley. “You are nothing but a spark. And sparks die.”Shadows poured forward at his call, crawling, howling, rushi

  • Chapter 116

    The shadow’s hand came down. Mason lay on the ground, his body broken, the fire in him no more than a flicker. He could barely move. His skin was torn and blistered, his chest heaved in ragged gasps. His silver eyes dimmed as the black-red glow of Vazquez’s massive hand loomed closer.The ground shook as the half-formed god’s laughter rolled through the valley. “You burn so brightly, little flame,” Vazquez said, his voice deep as thunder. “But every fire dies. And yours dies here.”The hand descended. Norra screamed. Her dagger flashed as she hurled herself forward, slashing at the nearest shadows. She was small, her arm weak compared to the beasts that lunged at her, but her rage gave her strength. She struck again and again, cutting through black tendrils that sought Mason’s body. “Stay away from him!” she shrieked, voice breaking.John was beside her, his blade whirling, his silver eyes blazing. He cut through a twisted soldier, then slammed his sword through the chest of a prie

  • Chapter 115

    The altar split with a sound like thunder tearing through stone. Cracks raced across its black surface, glowing with streams of red fire. The chants of the priests rose higher, a storm of voices praising the shadow that crawled out from the heart of the altar, and then it stood before them. Vazquez.Not as he once was. Not fully human. Not yet whole. But vast, towering, his body a storm of shadow and flame. One half of his face was clear, cruel and sharp, the other a blur of smoke and light. His eyes burned black-red, deeper than any abyss.When he spoke, the valley trembled. “You thought I was slain. You thought I was gone. But death is only the beginning of power.”His laughter shook the stones. The shadows fell to their knees, howling in worship. The priests cried out, “Our master rises! The Black Flame returns!”Norra clutched her dagger tighter, her knuckles white. Her voice was a whisper. “He’s… he’s not even whole, and he’s still, ”John’s silver eyes narrowed. His jaw set ha

  • Chapter 114

    The hills grew blacker the closer they came. At first, the glow on the horizon had been faint, like a storm hidden behind mountains. Now it pulsed openly, black and red, lighting the night sky with every beat. The land beneath their feet trembled faintly, as if the earth itself carried a heartbeat not its own.Mason marched at the front, his silver eyes locked on the glow. His body was weaker than before, his skin scarred by burns, his breath heavier with every mile, but his stride never faltered. Behind him, the band followed, silent, weary, but bound together by the fire of resolve. No one spoke of turning back anymore. There was nowhere to turn.The path east was lined with ruin. Trees lay twisted, their branches reaching like skeletal hands. Villages were nothing but charred skeletons of wood and stone.In one ruin, they found a survivor, an old woman crouched in the ashes of her home. Her eyes were wild, her voice a whisper. “Don’t go closer,” she hissed, clutching Mason’s slee

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