2025-09-27 22:15:04
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Chapter 126
The march east did not grow easier. Each day the air grew heavier, darker, as if the very sky bent low with dread. The land was sick beneath their feet. Ash drifted over fields where no fire had been. The rivers they crossed ran black, thick as oil, and the priests whispered that the water carried curses.Soldiers grew silent. At first, they marched with songs and cheers. Now they moved with bowed heads, their boots dragging, their voices hushed. Every sound felt swallowed by the land itself.On the seventh day, they found a village burned to nothing. But unlike the others, this one held no corpses on the ground. Instead, the air carried whispers. Faint, chilling voices rose from the ashes, as if the dead still begged for water, for mercy, for life.The soldiers froze. Some clutched their ears, others fell to their knees. A priest cried out, “The shadow binds their souls! This is Vazquez’s work!”Mason stood in the center of the ruin, silent, his silver eyes scanning the ash. His s
Chapter 125
The messenger’s words still hung in the tent like smoke. “The east burns. Vazquez’s remnants gather. The shadow is not dead.”No one moved. The kings sat frozen, their crowns heavy on their heads, their eyes wide and pale. The generals stared at the messenger as though the words themselves were poison.It was Queen Seraya who spoke first. Her voice was low, sharp as a knife. “Then all our arguments mean nothing. If the shadow marches, none of us can stand alone.”King Alaric snarled, his hand clenching the table. “And you would put us all under him?” He jerked his chin toward the camp outside. “That… creature who walks in fire?”“Creature or not,” said Lord Brennar, his scarred hands steady, “he is the only one the men will follow now. You know it. I know it. Deny it if you wish, but the fire has already crowned him.”The tent erupted again. Voices clashed, curses flew, pride and fear filled the air like smoke, then the flap opened, and Mason entered.He did not storm in. He did not s
Chapter 124
The fire shuddered. The great column of flame, tall as a tower, trembled as though it would tear itself apart. Sparks burst in every direction. The heartbeat thundered, faster, stronger, rattling armor and splitting stone.Men screamed. Women wept. Some fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads into the ash. Others stumbled back, hands over their faces, crying that the fire would consume them all.The priests raised their arms higher, their voices shrill. “The Saint is here!” they shouted. “The Flame Eternal rises!”But even their cries cracked with fear, for the fire shook like a living beast ready to break free.The column of fire began to fold inward.At first it sank slowly, as if collapsing under its own weight. Sparks spiraled down, drifting like burning snow. The glow dimmed to gold, then to red, the edges shrinking smaller and smaller.A whisper spread through the crowd. “It’s fading. It’s over. He’s gone again.”Some soldiers sobbed in despair. Others sagged in relief, b
Chapter 123
The altar was gone. In its place stood fire. A column of flame towered from the earth, white at its heart, gold at its edges, sparks falling like embers of a forge. The light blinded the valley, brighter than sun, searing the eyes of all who looked upon it. Heat washed over the battlefield, heavy and suffocating.The heartbeat shook the ground again. Once. Twice. Steady, louder, stronger. Men fell to their knees, some in awe, others in terror. Priests shrieked and wept. Kings shielded their faces with their cloaks. Soldiers cried out to gods old and new. The flame pulsed. Shadows leapt and twisted across the broken stones. For an instant, shapes seemed to move inside the fire. One priest cried out, his eyes wide and wet. “I see him! The Saint walks with wings of fire!” He tore at his robe, beating his chest with bloody fists. “Bow! Bow before the Flame Eternal!”Another priest laughed, wild and broken. “No! Look! A crown of light rests upon his brow. He is the king of fire, ruler o
Chapter 122
The altar shook like a living thing. Stone groaned beneath the weight of its own breaking. Cracks raced across the black surface, glowing at the edges with faint light. Sparks shot upward in bursts, swirling into the night. Each pulse was stronger than the last.Soldiers stumbled back, some falling to their knees, others clutching their weapons as if blades could protect them from fire. Shouts rose, raw with panic. “What is it? Is the rift opening again? No, the fire, look!”The cracks widened, a low rumble echoing deep below. The sound was like a heartbeat, steady, unrelenting, felt in the ground and in their bones.Norra dropped to her knees again, pressing her hands to the stone. Her palms burned but she didn’t pull them back. Tears streaked her face, her eyes wide. “It’s him. I know it. I know it’s him.”John crouched beside her, his silver eyes sharp, his jaw tight. He felt it too, the pulse, the heat, but his voice was steady, measured. “Something’s coming, yes. But whether it’
Chapter 121
Ash drifted down like snow. The battlefield was a graveyard of silence. Only the wind moved across the broken altar, carrying the smell of stone, blood, and smoke. The rift was gone, burned away, but its shadow still lingered in the air, and yet, sparks rose from the cracks.At first they were faint, like fireflies, drifting upward in silence. Then more came, glowing brighter, swirling together in slow, gentle spirals. They gathered above the ruins, small lights in the dark sky. A murmur spread through the soldiers. Heads lifted. Eyes widened. Some gasped, others fell to their knees.“Look,” a soldier whispered, pointing. “The fire’s still here.”“It’s him,” another said, her voice trembling. “It’s Mason.”Norra pushed forward, stumbling across the broken ground until she reached the heart of the altar. She dropped to her knees, pressing her hand against the stone. Her skin burned, but she did not move it away. She closed her eyes.Yes. There it was. A pulse beneath her palm. Faint
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