The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 455: The Divine Cycle

Chapter 455: The Divine Cycle

The roar of the flames intensified as we advanced, their lingering tongues of red and yellow licking at our feet. Adaptive Resistance shielded us from the heat, but nothing could protect me from the sickening crunch of charred bone and armor beneath our feet, or the acrid scent of scorched flesh mingled with blood. I coughed as acrid smoke filled my throat and squeezed my eyes shut, as much to keep back tears as to shield them from the gruesome sight.

"Easy," Luxxa said, running close to me, her voice a steady anchor in the chaos. "Don’t get squeamish on us now. The hard part’s still to come."

I nodded, attempting to swallow past the dryness in my throat. Gritting my teeth, I steadied myself and urged Fable faster. The ashes of hundreds of soldiers swirled in the wake of our passage, leaving a gray cloud of embers in our wake.

"Gayron’s something else, isn’t he?" Jenna muttered, glancing back the way we had come.

At the origin of that first inferno, Gayron and Korra were locked in a fierce battle. He’d assumed his infernal visage, though he kept his Volcanic Aura in check, likely out of respect for Korra. The clash was so intense that no ordinary soldier dared intervene; anyone who got too close was instantly blasted away by the sheer shockwaves of their attacks.

Fighting against them were two seventh-level warriors, both masters of sun magic. Billowing white cloaks trailed from their shoulders, and their armor gleamed with the light of the midday sun—high Inquisitors.

"What are they doing here?" I whispered, hunching lower over Fable’s back.

The presence of two High Inquisitors was more than alarming. Combined with the sheer number of mana cannons, it was a clear sign the Church was heavily invested in the Circle’s experiments with the Heart Crest.

Several times, the Brithlite army attempted to converge on us to at least slow our charge, but Gayron’s incarnations were everywhere. He’d strategically placed a dozen of them along our path, and after flashing us cocky grins, they proceeded to annihilate anyone who dared approach. They disintegrated into ash as we passed, likely allowing Gayron to draw on more of his soul for the battle against the inquisitors.

I wasn’t particularly worried about Korra. The Inquisitors’ greatest advantage was their power and skill with sun magic, but as a human, she had nothing to fear from that. Their magic could reach seventh-level, slightly stronger than what Adaptive Resistance could handle, but she was strong and had her protective arts to shield her. Gayron was another matter entirely, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel much concern for him. Whenever I thought of him, I still remembered his claws at my throat, and even after he joined us, his constant condescension and mockery stung, especially for someone as timid as me.

Fable’s fur pulsed hot beneath my hands, rising in electrified spikes as he channeled mana into his powerful legs. He launched himself into the air with a low bark, leaving deep craters in the scorched earth. I squeaked and ducked down low, hiding behind his back as we hurtled through the veil of flames.

In a breathtaking instant, we burst free of Gayron’s inferno, soaring into the open air beyond. I risked a peek over his shoulder and instantly regretted it, my stomach lurching as I realized we were a hundred feet in the air. Fable landed for a split second on the city wall, which crumbled under his immense weight, before leaping down into the city below.

We landed hard in a public market some distance from the wall, the impact jarring my bones. The city was choked with dust and swirling mana wisps, obscuring my vision beyond a couple hundred feet. Everywhere I looked, there was death and destruction. Magic was so interwoven with everyday life that even the simplest homes had minor enchantments, from magical grease on the hinges to charms that kept insects at bay. Having all that ripped away at once had plunged the city into utter chaos.

But it wasn’t the ruin that caused me to gasp or the tears to well up in my eyes. Luxxa had been right; the battlefield was merely a prelude to the devastation wrought upon the city’s residents. Closest to us were the soldiers who had been waiting in reserve within the city walls. They were strewn about, smeared with blood and vomit. Many groaned and retched, their bodies still reeling from the torment of having their mana violently stripped away. Those who could move grasped vainly at the air, pleading, searching for anything to ease their pain. Others were slumped over, their eyes dull and lifeless.

The scenes only worsened as Fable stepped over their twitching bodies, their armor crunching beneath his paws. A massive chunk of masonry from the city walls had obliterated an entire city block, likely thrown there by the explosion of the mana cannons. Dozens of corpses lay half-crushed beneath its weight, their blood staining the tattered remnants of civilian clothing. A few still twitched and moaned, their hands grasping blindly in the throes of death.

The deeper we ventured into the city, the more survivors we passed, their eyes glazed and haunted. Most had little to no mana to begin with, so the direct effects of Mana Storm were minimal, but the sheer terror of the attack had left them in shock. Children cried and women wept, while men stared blankly at the devastation around them, lost in a daze. They were all bound by the Heart Crest, yet none could muster the courage to comfort their families, let alone attack us.

There were dozens of them just on the main streets alone. They’d likely been fleeing to the shelters in preparation for our attack, but it had been too late for whatever reason. They’d been caught up in the storm. Those killed in the chaos following the descent of the Mana Storm would likely wake up at some point, but they would never be the same again.

Unable to bear it any longer, I let out a sob and buried my face in Fable’s fur. He quickened his pace, becoming a silver blur against the swirling dust, moving faster than I’d ever felt him run before. The Star Guard struggled to keep up, but even at his breakneck speed, it took far too long to leave the horrors behind.

The walls of the inner keep were in an even worse state than the outer city walls. The mortar had been laced with magic, every stone enchanted. The wall had been built too tall for its width, relying on magic to ensure its stability, and it had crumbled almost entirely. Many of the turrets had been destroyed in the explosion of their mana cannons, and not a single sentry remained at the fallen gates.

Proper engineering based on math and physics had never truly taken root in this world. If one encountered problems with strength or material weakness, it was a simple matter to hire a mage to enchant it. The methods were effective, even wondrous, but their shortcomings were now painfully apparent. Technology had grown too dependent on magic and couldn’t stand without it.

I’d already witnessed the devastation losing magic could wreak after the incident at Western University, but for some reason, Liceria seemed even worse. Perhaps it was the mana cannons, whose destruction had caused untold death and devastation among innocent civilians, or the proximity of the crumbling walls and other stone buildings to the residential areas. Either way, the damage was catastrophic, and the loss of life was far greater than I had anticipated.

Fable wasted no time crossing the thresholds of the fallen gates, stepping into the inner courtyards. I gripped his fur with one hand, stopping him and wiping away tears with my other.

"Wait, let them catch up," I mumbled, sniffing.

After a few seconds, the rest of my companions arrived, their eyes looking as wide and haunted as mine. Only Kahlen seemed in good spirits. In fact, he seemed delighted, gleeful even. I noticed a steady stream of mana pouring into his soul from all directions, rapidly elevating his strength.

"Their fear is delicious," Kahlen purred, a predatory smile curling his lips. "So much death and suffering. And it’s all mine."

"Damn it all, do you care nothing for this?" Luxxa muttered, shooting him a hateful glare.

He blinked his silver eyes once, then turned toward her, head cocked in feigned confusion. "Not at all, my dear Luxxa. Death is as much a part of the Divine Cycle as life is. Their souls are not gone, just rewoven into the pattern, reborn again, you might say."

"But still, they were alive!" Jenna protested. The look she gave the demon now was filled with horror, far from the flirtatious smile of earlier.

"Were," Kahlen corrected. "They were alive. And they will be again. Just as I will find and feed on them again. It’s the beauty of the cycle the gods created. They bring mana to a world, and we reap it."

I shook my head, feeling sick to my stomach. The worst part was that the demon was right. The gods gifted mortals with mana so that they would worship them. The demons were simply drawn to it like moths to a flame or, perhaps more fittingly, like wolves to a flock of sheep. The mortals suffered, and the gods simply moved on, finding more worlds to corrupt with their influence. Why was it that the innocent always suffered? Why couldn’t the gods be kind and benevolent, as they were supposed to be? And why were the demons, of all creatures, the ones helping me?

Fortunately, I had little time to agonize over those questions as we finally reached the keep housing the shard. I could sense several powerful souls pulsing within, emanating the strong, familiar power of Sun Magic. Inquisitors.