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Chapter 98. Sunset Sight
Sir Dave watched Rhok for a long moment after the last words were spoken. There was a weight in the tent now, like silence had grown arms and was holding them both still. The flickering torch by the tent flap cast a warm, slow glow that didn’t reach Rhok’s eyes.Sir Dave didn’t speak,not yet at least. He slowly drew in a breath, calmed himself and then closed his eyes. The Vowfire at his side pulsed softly, not in danger, but in preparation."Sunset," he whispered.A small ember glowed over his eyes.This was no ordinary skill and it was not granted lightly, even among the paladins. Sunset allowed one to see beyond the surface, into the soul, the threads of truth, and the web of divine alignment. Some had wept at what they saw while others had gone mad.He opened his eyes and looked at Rhok, rather he looked through Rhok.And instantly, he coughed.It wasn’t because of smoke or anything of the sort, it was what he saw.Inside Rhok was not a flame, he was not a void. He saw that Rhok w
Chapter 97. The Shadow and the Flame
Sir Dave was tired.He had spoken to six soldiers, three clerics, two saints, and a cook who seemed unusually interested in his divine sword. None had seen Rhok and they all had the same answer."He comes and goes like a whore that steals your gold when you sleep.""You don’t find him, he just pops up and spooks the living shit outta you.""Ooh, he'll find you for sure."It was starting to feel less like a search and more like chasing fog. The first person he approached that morning was Saint Luke. The man was younger than expected, with eyes that looked like they’d seen longer days than he had been alive."Rhok?" Luke had said, stretching his shoulder with a wince. "Not since the ridge collapsed, he does all that and disappears. He might be scouting or might be sleeping in a cave... or he might be having a drink with a ghost that he talks to when he thinks no one is looking. Honestly, no one knows."Next was Liora. She was sharpening a blade that seemed a bit too big for her, Sir Dav
Chapter 96. The Order Of The Church.
Sir Dave hated horses.They smelled, they kicked, and this one who was named Buttercup of all things was too proud for her own good. She tossed her head every few minutes like she was the chosen one, blessed by Luppiter himself.Sir Dave wasn’t in the mood for a holy horse.He strapped down the last of his supplies. One pack for rations, another for armour polish, and the last held sealed documents stamped with the golden sun of the Church.He’d been trying to keep his thoughts clean. Trying.But as he mounted Buttercup and glanced back at the capital gates, the urge to throw the orders into the nearest ditch bubbled up again.Still, he didn’t turn around.This was the price of being chosen to be useful.Of being too loyal to say no.---It had already been two days since they had been on the road, but Sir Dave was tired of riding in the caravan, which was long and slow. The sun beat down in that annoying way it always did on the outer roads. Dust kicked up. People bowed when they saw
Chapter 95. The Prophet's March
The room smelled like incense and myrrh.Sir Dave stood still, boots planted on the marble floor, his shoulders straight. He didn’t like being summoned like this. He never liked being summoned at all. But when the Pope calls you in person, you show up. Whether you're dead tired, half drunk, deep between a woman's legs or already halfway across the country on another mission, you show up.And you listen.Across from him, seated on a throne lined with silver and sunsteel, was... "Pope Elarion IX. Head of the Church. Voice of Luppiter. Untouchable. Untested." Some said the man didn’t bleed, others said he hadn’t blinked in five years.Dave didn’t believe in rumors. But he did believe in pressure, and the pressure in the room felt like gravity had doubled.“You know why I’ve called you,” the Pope said.“I can guess,” Dave answered, his voice flat.Elarion’s face didn’t move. “Don’t guess. Listen.”Sir Dave stayed silent.The Pope gestured to the side where a robed priest stepped forward
Chapter 94. Ash and Echoes
The throne room of the Black Spire wasn’t built, it had been grown from jagged obsidian walls stretched like towers to the ceiling, the air was never clear, as if an ever present mist surrounded the place. The air smelled of brimstone, the strong stench of rot, and stains of blood that littered the walls every now and then. There were candles made from the bone marrow of humans as the candle burned with a dark flame, their light casting uneven and odd shadows around them.At the center of the room was a well of slow moving magma, and around it, twelve obsidian thrones curved in a half circle.Only nine were occupied.Above them, on a broken dais of bone and blades, sat a man of high authority. His eyes were like smoldering coals, he did not presume to speak much, he merely watched with clawed hands that rested on each side of his throne handles.It was Demon Lord Belkath, the demon of the mindless, who spoke first.“This... Rhok,” Belkath said, his throat etched with dark lines that s
Chapter 93. What Remains of Fire.
The ridge was gone, the demon convoy buried beneath it. But the victory didn’t feel like one.They returned to camp in silence, there were no cheers and no drums. Just the wounded dragging broken gear and the quiet shuffling of blood soaked boots over packed dirt. The healers moved quickly and fast, slipping between soldiers, their hands glowing faintly, as their mouths set in hard lines. Even the wind felt careful now, like it didn’t want to be heard.Rhok walked behind the group, his daggers still stained, his face unreadable. He said nothing as they passed the camp gates, but he felt it, the eyes on him. Hundreds.The nickname started small.“Nameless,” someone whispered.Then again, louder. “Nameless.”He didn’t look back at them, he didn’t correct them. He didn’t need to. The image had burned into their minds, the way the demons had frozen in place and died under the weight of numerous ridges bring exploded, the way Marell had dropped to his knees and cried.Church observers had
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