Chapter 76: No Innocents Left

  Miza Veyth sat inside the mess tent, balancing a bowl of stew on her knees while she ate. The tent was loud and crowded, full of Crusaders talking, laughing, and clanking armor. The smell of food and sweat hung heavy in the air.

  “Haha, who would’ve thought we’d really run into undead scum on the way to the forsaken north,” a deep voice said across from her. “I bet that was a shock for you, seeing them for the first time, girl.”

  Miza looked up at the hulking man sitting opposite her. His helmet lay on the table beside his meal, and his scarred face was split by a broad grin.

  “I… I didn’t think it would be that dangerous,” Miza said, chewing before continuing. “Even with the Holy Saint with us, we were attacked. I always thought it’d be safer outside the holy city.”

  “Oh, that was nothing,” the man said, waving his spoon. “Believe it or not, last time the Saint went on a crusade we fought an actual Lich. Some remnant from the Necropolis Catacrum. The fight was—”

  “Jordi,” an older woman interrupted sharply. “Don’t scare the girl.”

  The cook stood nearby, arms crossed, watching them closely. She had been looking after Miza ever since she’d joined the crusade.

  “It’s fine,” Miza said quickly. “I’m not a kid.”

  Jordi laughed. “She’s right. And didn’t you know, we’re only here because she caught something the other ink rats missed. She’s a sharp one.”

  The cook ignored him and looked at Miza instead. “The Kingdom of Burm has its problems, but it isn’t uncivilized like the east. There won’t be a Lich waiting for us. And even if there was, we’ve got enough power with us to wage a small war.”

  Miza nodded. “The Goddess protects us. There won’t be anything we can’t overcome with her love.”

  “Hear, hear,” Jordi agreed.

  The cook sighed. “Don’t let everything the Crusaders say go to your head. We already have enough fanatics. But yes, the Goddess protects, and I doubt there’ll be a real fight.”

  “Hey, who are you calling a fanatic,” Jordi shot back, laughing.

  Before it could go further, the tent flap opened and another large Crusader stepped inside.

  “Miza Veyth?” he called.

  Miza froze. “Yes?”

  “The Holy Saint wants to speak with you,” he said. Then he added louder, “We’re leaving as soon as possible. Start packing the tents.”

  “Oh, an audience with the Saint,” Jordi said as he stood up, grabbing his helmet. “Told you, you’re no ordinary ink rat.”

  He patted Miza on the back. “Looks like things are finally starting. This should be our last march before Tiara.”

  Miza swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to stand as well. She slung her heavy satchel over her shoulder, while around her, the tent shifted into motion as well.

  A short moment later, she stepped out of the tent and into the cold air. The camp lay beside the massive teleportation gate they’d used to arrive in Burma, looming nearby like a silent relic from another age. The Ecclesia’s gate network was one of the main reasons the Church held such strong control over the central continent, because it allowed them to deploy armies across vast distances in a matter of weeks rather than months.

  It was something Miza found deeply fascinating. As a [Cryptscribe (Analyst / Archivist)], she knew countless rune systems, newer ones and ancient ones alike, and during her training she’d studied thousands of different rune sets. Yet she’d never seen runes embedded directly into teleportation gates like these before. She really hoped she’d get the chance to study them properly once she returned to Veythral.

  Drawing in a steady breath, Miza made her way through the camp toward the Holy Saint’s tent. And after a short walk of maybe ten minutes, she found herself standing in front of it. The Crusader on watch glanced at her, and simply waved her inside without a word.

  The Holy Saint sat at a table covered in maps. The moment Miza stepped into the tent, her silver eyes locked onto her.

  “Lady Saint,” Miza said quickly, pressing the words out before her nerves could get the better of her. “It’s me, Miza Veyth. You called for me…!”

  For a fleeting moment, it almost looked like the Saint was smiling. Then her expression smoothed into something unreadable.

  “Ah, Miza, come. Sit with me. There’s something I want to talk about,” the Saint said.

  Miza nodded and took a seat on the stool opposite her, at the edge of the table, while she tried to calm her breathing.

  “So,” the Saint continued, “we’ve received new information about Tiara. It confirms our initial suspicions about [Doomsday]. Everything points to the same conclusion we first reached.” Her silver eyes never blinked. “I must say, young [Cryptscribe], I admire that you followed the Goddess’s guidance and brought this to our attention.”

  The words were praise, but the tone felt strangely cold in Miza’s ears.

  This is only the second time I’ve been this close to her… she thought uneasily.

  The first time had been during the Ritual of Judgment, and even then the Saint’s relentless gaze and ethereal presence had overwhelmed her. Now, sitting this close, it was even harder to bear.

  “I’m glad I could help,” Miza replied, lowering her gaze to the maps on the table just to break eye contact.

  “Yes,” the Saint said. “You’re a diligent and devoted [Cryptscribe]. That’s why I intended to keep you with me for further investigation once we reached Tiara. But since it’s now confirmed that [Doomsday] is active there, I believe the Goddess intended something else for you.”

  Miza looked up again despite herself, and immediately found herself caught in that silver gaze once more.

  “You’ll remain here in Burma,” the Saint said. “You’ll join Archbishop Marcus at the cathedral until we return from Tiara.”

  Miza froze. She wanted to ask why, wanted to protest and say that they were already so close to Tiara and that she might still be useful during the Crusade. But the words caught in her throat before she could force them out.

  But sitting this close, she couldn’t look away anymore. The Saint’s eyes were mesmerizing, and the silver within them seemed to move, slowly swirling like a distant ocean.

  “I… understand,” Miza finally murmured.

  For just a brief moment, the Saint smiled again.

  “Good, I knew you would. Now, give me your hand.”

  Without really thinking, Miza extended her hand, still caught in the Saint’s gaze. The Saint took it gently, and for a moment Miza only felt the cold of her grip, like ice around her fingers, until pain snapped her focus downward.

  The Saint had already drawn a small blade and cut into Miza’s palm. Blood immediately gushed forth and dripped steadily into a small bottle Liora held beneath her hand.

  “When I first saw you,” the Saint said calmly, “I knew that as a sister of Veyth, you were destined for more.”

  She sealed the vial and released Miza’s hand.

  “Go to Marcus,” Liora continued. “He’ll know what to do with you, young [Cryptscribe]. And with a bit of luck…” Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. “You may be the first person to meet Luxandra in over a hundred years.”

  Miza didn’t know what that meant. She was only at the beginning of her career in the Church and had never heard that name before. But what she did know—as a member of the intelligence network—was that the Church loved codewords and secrets, so she didn’t question its meaning.

  The Saint kept her gaze fixed on Miza, watching closely how she would react. Miza’s hand throbbed painfully, and she clutched it instinctively, trying to stop the bleeding. She knew better than to say the wrong thing in front of higher Church officials, so she said quietly, “Thank you, Lady Saint.”

  The Saint nodded slowly and made a small motion with her hand, signaling Miza to stand. “You may go. May the light shine on your way.”

  Miza rose at once, bowed deeply, and turned to leave. Just as she opened her mouth to ask where she should find Archbishop Marcus, the Crusader stationed outside stepped into the tent. He glanced at the Saint, then at Miza.

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  “I’ll take you to the cathedral,” he said, clearly seeing that the meeting was over.

  Miza hesitantly nodded, while the crusader already turned around and walked again out of the tent. She nearly forgot her satchel in her daze, but caught it at the last moment and hurried after him.

  The Holy Saint remained seated, her silver eyes following them as they left, as if the tent walls weren’t there at all.

  When they were gone, she murmured quietly to herself, “I truly hope it won’t be necessary… but the world isn’t ready for the Age of Strife without the old ones.”

  ???

  Once preparations were complete, they departed without delay. The additional three hundred soldiers from Duke Valtiara joined them as promised, merging with the Crusade as they passed beyond the outer ring of the city of Burma. It nearly doubled their force in numbers, even if those troops were nowhere near the level of the Crusaders.

  But for Liora, that was more of a side note. What truly troubled her was the situation within Burm itself. Even after prior notice from the Ecclesia that a Crusade was already on its way, they had still been halted at the teleportation gate and only received any meaningful support after a city the size of Tiara had already been lost to cultist activity. That delay gnawed at her, because it felt like the kingdom itself was beginning to fracture.

  The last time Liora had been in Burm, the people had been strict believers of the Church of Light. Back then, the king would have supported the Ecclesia without hesitation and provided everything she required. Now, hesitation, politics, and self-interest had taken root. The current king was little more than a marionette on the throne, far too young to rule in truth. And that could only mean one thing: the North would crumble in the near future, and because of that, the Ecclesia would need far more resources to secure it again.

  The weakening faith of the believers was yet another sign, or rather another confirmation of the coming Age of Strife, at least in Liora’s eyes. After her divination and the revelations surrounding [Doomsday], she had consulted the deepest archives of the Ecclesia and spoken again and again with the thirteen cardinals about what it all meant. Every discussion had led to the same conclusion, one that had become impossible to avoid. If Liora didn’t act fast now and nip it in the bud, the world as it was known would change fundamentally, and not for the better. So, she gathered the currently available Crusaders in Veythral and launched the crusade as quickly as possible.

  As they left Burma behind, the crusade moved along far better maintained roads than those in the smaller kingdoms they had crossed earlier. Stone-paved routes and stable supply paths allowed them to keep a steady pace. Even so, the march toward Tiara would still take more time than crossing the lesser realms before it.

  After around one full day of travel through Burm, as the crusade prepared to continue into its second day on the road, the column suddenly came to a halt. Orders were called out, and the formation slowed as scouts reported movement ahead.

  Moments later, a small band of Church warriors emerged from the woods bordering the road. They were moving fast and without formation, clearly exhausted. A priest ran at their head, with torn and stained robes, and a wild gaze, while the others followed close behind.

  After some initial confusion, the group was escorted forward. When they reached the command section, the priest stepped ahead and bowed deeply before Liora, while the warriors behind him dropped to one knee.

  “Lady Saint,” the priest said, breathing hard. “The Goddess truly watches over us, to meet you here.”

  Liora studied them in silence, then let her gaze rest on the priest.

  “Brother,” she said. “It surprises me to meet you here in the field, instead of inside your church in Tiara.”

  There was a faint edge in her tone. Even though she already knew that the situation in Tiara had escalated, seeing Church officials who had fled still left a bad taste in her mouth.

  The priest ignored the edge in her voice and straightened slightly as he began to explain how he’d ended up here in the first place. He told Liora how a greater demon had appeared within Tiara and openly claimed the city in the name of the Empire of Xares, a declaration that sounded ridiculous to him, since the empire had been gone for centuries. But ridiculous or not, the demon had been powerful enough to stand against the combined forces of the local guilds and the city guard. Faced with that, he said he’d had no choice but to flee, because someone had to survive and bear witness to what had happened.

  He went on to explain how they had escaped through the tunnels beneath the city, only to be pursued by another demon sent after them. Then he gestured toward one of the warriors standing beside him.

  “This man,” he said, “killed the demon that was sent after us. This is Jorg, Your Holiness, the leader of our backup forces in Tiara.”

  Liora turned her attention to the man named Jorg.

  Jorg stepped forward and gave a stiff bow. He explained that they’d been on standby when the priest had emerged from the tunnels, already being chased by the creature. He described how they had fought it together, how he had managed to land the killing blow, and what had happened afterward once the demon finally fell.

  “I gained forty-three levels,” Jorg said. “I crossed into level three hundred. I also received two titles and a class advancement.”

  Liora paused as she processed what she had just heard. Forty-three levels and two titles gained from a single fight made her look at Jorg again, this time more closely. Before she could ask about his titles, however, her silver eyes lifted toward the woods, where the group had emerged.

  “You didn’t say you were being chased,” she said.

  Liora turned slightly and reached out, taking a spear straight from the hands of one of the nearby soldiers. He stiffened but didn’t resist. Light gathered around her grip as she turned back toward the treeline.

  She aimed once and threw.

  The spear left her hand like a launched projectile, tearing a clear path through the air. A heartbeat later, a distant sonic boom rolled back toward them, followed by an explosion of splintered wood, earth, and stone nearly two miles away.

  The priest and the soldiers all stared toward the impact site, gasping.

  “Tsk,” Liora clicked her tongue.

  She took another spear, already channeling power, and threw again.

  Another sonic boom echoed across the road. Another explosion followed, and this time a massive crater tore open in the forest, leaving a wide stretch of shattered ground where trees had stood moments before.

  Within the crater, something flickered. A thin, unstable shape hovered there, barely holding form, like a silhouette without a body.

  Liora stepped forward, her gaze locked on it. The figure began to fade almost immediately. It was too far to pursue, and its head start was already too great. Within seconds, it vanished completely.

  “Tsk,” Liora muttered again. “Immune to physical attacks.”

  She turned back to the priest and the others, who were still staring at her with open mouths.

  “Disappointing,” she said flatly. “You didn’t realize you were being followed. Now they’re warned...”

  “We didn’t know, Lady Saint,” the priest began, but Liora stopped him with a short shake of her head.

  “What’s done is done. There’s no point in arguing about it now.” Her gaze shifted back toward the treeline for a brief moment before returning to the group in front of her. “But with demon activity like this in Tiara, we clearly underestimated the situation.”

  She exhaled slowly and turned slightly towards the crusaders nearby. “March on! We have no more time to lose.”

  The command was passed along, and the column began moving again. Liora stayed where she was for a moment longer, her eyes lingering on the treeline where her target had vanished, before she followed after them, already adjusting her expectations for what awaited them in Tiara.

  By the next day, they were far enough north that snow began to fall. It slowed their march even more, though not enough to stop them. Along the way, the commanders discussed how they would proceed once they reached Tiara. In the end, they decided on a frontal approach, while a small elite unit would attempt to inspect the tunnel network the priest had used to flee.

  Liora already suspected the tunnels had collapsed during the pursuit, but it wouldn’t hurt to confirm it. The rest of the day passed without any further incidents.

  On the third day of their march toward Tiara, the snowfall grew heavier and slowed them down considerably. Even so, they could already see the city’s walls on the horizon by early afternoon. As they drew closer, the banners of the ancient empire were clearly visible, raised over the gatehouse, and the walls were fully manned, eyes fixed on the approaching force.

  Liora ordered the Crusaders into battle formation and gave the same command to the three hundred soldiers from Duke Valtiara, instructing them to prepare to storm the city on her signal. It wasn’t the first city she’d taken with her Crusade, and it wouldn’t be the last, but the level of organizations on the walls still puzzled her. How long had the city been taken already? Less than a week?

  Once the Crusaders and soldiers were in formation, still outside the effective range of arrows and standard tactical spells, Liora stepped forward alone and began walking toward the closed gates of Tiara. She stopped only a few paces in front of the massive gate, studying its surface before lifting her gaze to the figures on the wall. Her eyes settled on an older nobleman standing slightly ahead of the others.

  “My name is Liora Veyth,” she called out, her voice carrying easily across the distance. “I’m here in the name of the Goddess of Light. I demand that you open these gates, so we can root out the evil that’s taken hold of this city and release the good people of Tiara from captivity. We won’t harm the innocent, and we’ll return this city to its lawful rulers.”

  The nobleman stepped forward in response. “An honor to meet you, Holy Saint. It seems the rumors were true, your beauty is indeed unmatched.” He inclined his head slightly. “I’m Gideon Vexly, interim mayor of Tiara, and now a noble of the Xares Empire. I regret to inform you that we can’t open these gates. Tiara is no longer part of the Kingdom, and the Church no longer has authority here.”

  Behind Liora, voices immediately rose.

  “Nonsense!” “Traitor!” “You can’t just decide that!”

  Angry murmurs spread among the Crusaders as well at the mention that the Church was barred from the city.

  “Gideon Vexly,” Liora repeated calmly, her eyes sweeping over him. “It seems you’re not of clear mind. You know we’ll enter this city with or without your consent.” Her gaze shifted to the soldiers lining the walls. “Are you people of Tiara truly willing to abandon the Goddess? Or are you being forced to stand here and betray your faith? Fear not. We’re here to bring you salvation.”

  She saw hesitation ripple through some of the soldiers, though far fewer than she’d hoped. Her eyes dropped briefly to the gate itself, where faint defensive runes hummed beneath the stone.

  So, they’ve already powered up the defenses.

  She looked back to Gideon, about to continue, when someone beside him caught her attention. There was standing a girl, right beside him.

  Liora hadn’t noticed her at first. When she tried to focus on her again, something felt wrong. It was almost as if her eyes were deliberately sliding away, refusing to properly register the girl standing there. The sensation made her frown.

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. The silver in her eyes was gone, replaced by a faint golden glow. Only then did she see the girl clearly. White hair. Ruby-red eyes. A black dress beneath a dark coat. And she was looking straight back at her.

  The moment their gazes met, the girl stumbled backward. The old nobleman beside her caught her with one arm, steadying her.

  But Liora had already seen enough. Demons roaming freely, the prophecy unfolding piece by piece, an ancient guild returned from centuries of silence, and now the accursed Empire of Xares daring to set foot in this realm again. And on top of all that, this—a progenitor.

  She had slain the last one in the mortal realm twenty years ago, and she had truly believed it to be the final remnant of its kind. Now, seeing one here again, her only remaining feeling toward Tiara was disdain, because the city had chosen to side willingly with something like that. There was only one way of salvation left for this fallen city. And it was fire.

  Slowly, Liora raised her voice one final time. “You’ve made a grave mistake. You sold your souls for nothing. This place is tainted beyond redemption!”

  She turned without another word and walked back toward the Crusaders. This city would burn. No one would leave Tiara alive when she was finished.