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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
Chapter 92. Bail the Beast.
The sky turned red, not from the setting sun, but from the fire and smoke still rising from the shattered ridge. Rhok stood in the ash, blades were drawn, blood sticking to his boots but it wasn't his blood, it was that blood of the demons, shadow curling around his legs like something waiting to be unleashed again. The air stung. It smelled like burned stone and demon blood, and below the ridge, the remnants of the convoy twitched and groaned. But there was no time to feel good about a win. Because this wasn’t one. Not yet.Dian slid down beside him, gasping slightly as he pointed toward the valley floor. “They’re regrouping and very fast. I think they’ve got another wave waiting in the cliffs. We didn’t catch all of them.”Rhok squinted through the smoke. He could see outlines and dark shapes. The demons were pulling their dead aside, rearranging what wagons they could salvage. Someone was commanding them, someone who hadn’t shown their face yet. That was never a good sign.Liora ca
Chapter 91. Shadows Before the Fall.
The wind was dry and bitter as Rhok stood at the northern edge of the war camp, staring out toward the jagged ridge in the distance. The terrain ahead was bone colored and cracked, a place so dead even the crows refused to fly over it. The soldiers called it Godscar Ridge, and if the plan worked, it would be the grave of half the demon convoy by sunrise. If it failed, it would just be another scar.Behind him, the war camp moved like a wounded beast. Clerics carried salves between tents, officers barked orders, and fresh recruits sharpened blades already stained by someone else's blood. Even the tents looked tired, flapping in the wind like sighs made of canvas. The quiet was uneasy. Everyone knew something big was coming.Caelan stood inside the command tent, boots planted firmly in the ground, one hand over the map like he trying to burn the location into memory. Around him were Runa, Navien, a few senior tacticians, and one chair left conspicuously empty. Rhok entered without speak
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