The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 166: Departure

Chapter 166: Departure

I was to be alone. Soltair and Trithe were hardly people I could call friends, but we had fought countless battles together for over a year. Under Fyren’s training, the two had developed into frightening warriors who held the front line and kept the demons’ claws from reaching me. In turn, I blessed them with my protections, practically invalidating the demon’s magic and techniques.

My power had been stolen from me by the inquisitor, and now, at the Arbiter’s call, Soltair and Trithe were gone. For what purpose did I even go to the gate? Without Nexus and limited in my mana, I would be unable to provide large-scale support. The Demon General of this Gate was sixth-level as well, meaning Adaptive Resistance would be helpless before his attacks.

My gaze settled on the gleaming ring on Soltair’s finger. Perhaps, if I begged, he might be willing to consider allowing me sixth circle strength. I would still be too weak to break the slave crest, but he could simply order me not to anyway, right? If that were the case, I wouldn’t be defenseless and could contribute to the battle.

As I worked up my courage to ask, Alex appeared at my side. "Worried about being alone without Soltair?"

I shook my head. "No, that’s not-"

He laughed, abruptly throwing an arm around my shoulders. "Oh, come on now. I saw that longing look. Don’t worry, even if he’s not there, I’ll look aft-"

His voice vanished as a searing pain lanced through me, his comforting hand hot against the Sunpurge. My sudden scream startled him, and his hand tightened in surprise, fingers digging into the glowing scars. I tore away from him, making it half a step before my legs gave out. Consumed by the fire coursing through my veins, I scarcely noticed when I hit the ground.

Slowly, the black spots cleared and my mind returned. Blinking away the tears, I opened my eyes to a veil of white feathers. A blurry gauntlet came into focus, outstretched toward me. After taking a moment to gather my strength, I grasped it, wincing as Elek dragged me to my feet.

Once he was sure I was fine, Elek rounded on the Fire Hero, whose eyes were wide with shock and horror. The angel’s voice was low and quiet but practically shivered with fury.

"You would be wise to keep your hands to yourself, Fire Hero."

"Jeez," Alex muttered, scratching the back of his head. "Calm down. She’s just a slave, right?"

The arbiter’s eyes flashed brightly, overwhelming even the light of the sun for a moment. He took a long, deliberate breath before speaking again. "You forget your place. We are at war. The merit of a soldier is based on action, not class. Xiviyah has slain a dragon and a demon lord’s avatar. Your accomplishments pale in comparison to that."

"Riiight." Alex rolled his eyes. "And you’re just going to assume Soltair had nothing to do with that? Come on, we all know she’s been nothing but dead weight since being summoned here. It was already kind of me to try and take her under my wing, now that he’s bored of her."

Elek was silent for a time, and Alex’s lips curved in a smug grin. But, as he opened his mouth to gloat, the arbiter snorted derisively.

"Among the worlds governed by the Council, there are thousands of Sun Heroes, each fighting their own battles against the demons. There exists not a single record of a Sun Hero killing an avatar before the first gate appeared." he turned, shooting me a complicated look. "It might interest you to know, Fire Hero, that this world holds something else unique. In all of those thousands of worlds, there is but one Fate Hero. Not even you can fail to see the connection there."

The angel’s wings snapped out, carrying him into the sky. An enthusiastic cheer swept up from the marching soldiers, filling the heavy silence that hung in the wake of his words.

I was the only one? Fate had never tried to hide the fact her power was in decline, but I’d never given it a second thought. Although my memory of the Divine Colosseum was hazy, I recalled Fate saying their feud began a few cycles ago, with one of the more recent Sun Heroes. Was that really the truth?

All of a sudden, things made a lot more sense. My abilities, the extreme persecution of all things related to Fate in this world, and her frequent appearances and guidance. Were they all some sort of final bid? She’d claimed to have chosen a random soul, preferring to leave it up to fate, which was how she ended up with someone as weak and inexperienced as me. Was that really okay with her?

Knowing her, it was. I didn’t know what happened to a God who became forgotten, but regardless of the outcome, I knew she’d simply acknowledge it as "Fate." It’s only natural she’d believe her philosophy of what happens is meant to happen.

"What kind of bullshit is that?" Alex muttered, scowling at me. "You must have slept with him or something. Why else would he be so protective."

I shook my head, nervously fingering the tip of one of my horns. His eyes had lost their charming playfulness, growing to resemble the black looks of those who had surrounded me in my previous life. A soft tingling in my soul warned that he might not be as harmless as Soltair believed him to be.

"Forget it," Connor said, laying a hand on Alex’s shoulder. "Let’s get moving. You don’t want to lose to that angel, right?"

Alex stiffened. "Of course not! There’s no way I’d let that jerk get the first clear."

He took off, racing to catch up with the armies, who had already begun marching away. As his party members raced to join him, I sighed, climbing to my feet. I stumbled on the first step, my legs still a little shaky, but Connor caught my arm, steadying me.

I flinched at his touch, recoiling and summoning my staff. He frowned, but allowed me to pull away.

"Let’s hope he forgets about it," he said, glancing at the Fire Hero’s retreating figure. His eyes were black, filled with the mysterious power of Soul Gaze. "But he’s dangerous. His soul’s far more tainted than any of the other heroes I’ve seen recently, and I can’t imagine his mind’s any more pure." He turned his piercing eyes onto me, sending a shiver down my spine. "Find me if he tries anything. I wouldn’t pass him to abuse the authority Soltair gave us."

I gazed at him steadily for a moment before nodding. At the very least, he seemed sincere. Before he’d left, Soltair had ordered me to follow their directions and "avoid causing trouble." Although this was a military campaign on a tight schedule, Connor was right. The gate was nearly a day away, giving plenty of opportunities should Alex hold any ill intentions.

We moved to follow the armies, slowly gaining ground until we fell amid their orderly ranks. Connor returned to his dark and brooding self, only breaking his moody silence to occasionally whisper to his scythe. The weapon seemed to carry a heavy aura, but the currently weakened Eyes of Fate failed to discern much about the Divine Artifact beyond a few surface-level enchantments. Powerful magic items like it contained many layers and spells, and it was nearly impossible to decipher them all.

Fortunately, despite my fears, Alex remained at the head of the column. Connor remained nearby but didn’t seem concerned about me, only occasionally looking my way. In his mind, he’d given his warning and likely decided to leave the rest up to me.

Night fell, and the two armies made camp. Camp followers, servants, and slaves scurried through the orderly rows of tents attending to the soldier’s needs. Naturally, the other heroes were given spacious tents with plenty of servants, and when a group of soldiers approached me, I was half expecting to be relegated to the slave’s sleeping quarters.

"Greetings, Hero," their captain said, giving a sharp salute. His men followed his example, pressing their hands to their armored chests, filling the air with the clink of steel.

They were a rough-looking force, two hundred strong and consisting of grizzled veterans with countless scars across their armor and flesh. Only a few remained free of gray in their hair, and even fewer didn’t have a bit of a gut. But their eyes were sharp and equipment well cared for, indicating a high degree of discipline. Despite their polite respect, I maintained a wary distance, only giving them a slight nod in greeting.

"I am Captain Bethiv," the captain announced, his hand falling back to his side. "I may be presumptuous of me to say so, but it seems you have not yet been provided accommodations for the night. Would you honor my company with your presence this night?"

My eyes widened, my tail twitching in surprise. I glanced around but found nothing to indicate it might be a trap or trick. The Brithlite troops were mostly settled, with only a few other such companies still searching for a suitable place to throw up their tents. Despite the conspicuity of my demonic features, slave crest, and my nature as a hero, no one seemed to be paying us any attention.

Taking my silence as reluctance, the captain cleared his throat. "We might be a little rough around the edges, but my men are sharp and respectful. Sure, they might bicker and fight amongst themselves, and more than a few snore, but you won’t find a more loyal company in all the northern continent. We can offer our help pitching your tent too, if you’d like."

I flinched, hand tightening around the folds of my skirt. "I don’t have one," I whispered.

"No tent?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. Soltair always kept the supplies like that. Despite the size and convenience of the spatial satchel, I’d never had more possessions than a few changes of clothes, a large supply of rations, and my magical study materials.

Captain Bethiv rubbed his nose, casting a glance back at his men. A white-haired archer nodded at him, and he smiled. "I think we’ve got a spare. Ol’ Bernie likes his own tent, but he’d be willing to let you have it for the night."

"Is it really alright?" I asked tentatively.

He nodded, smiling faintly. "As I said before, we’d be honored, so no need to be shy."

As he had said, they were rugged soldiers carrying none of the grace and poise of nobles or priests. But their earnest sincerity was impossible to deny, shining brighter than the stars. "T-thank you," I stammered. "I think I’d like that."

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