The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 476: The Lord of Ash

Chapter 476: The Lord of Ash

The city, twice the size of Liceria, had been home to tens of thousands of souls. I hovered hundreds of feet above the inferno, but the screams of the survivors pierced through the crackling roar of the fire and the rush of the wind generated by the intense heat. I’d never seen so much fire before, nor even imagined it could be possible. Could one creature really do all of this?

Everywhere I looked, mortals stumbled out of their homes, clutching children, meager belongings, or cherished keepsakes, their eyes wide with terror. The fires must have started recently, within the last few minutes, because while countless buildings burned, most were still standing. That was rapidly changing, however, as the flames continued to spread, devouring everything from the highest towers to the lowest stables.

In the marketplace directly below, a large, four-story building collapsed into a heap of ash and rubble, barely allowing two figures to scramble clear. But the flames, as if possessed by a malevolent will, leaped across the street, cutting off their escape and enveloping them in a fiery embrace. I watched, paralyzed by horror, as they fell to the ground, their screams echoing through the inferno. The flames devoured their bodies like kindling, leaving nothing but a fine, white ash in their wake. When the final flames flickered out, there was nothing left but ashes scattered by the hellish winds.

I shuddered, finally tearing my gaze away from the horrifying scene and hugging myself tightly. The sunpurge couldn’t touch me here, not in a vision, but for a fleeting moment, I felt the flames licking at my own skin. I stifled a whimper, biting my lip, as the searing memories of Liceria resurfaced, the pain still raw and vivid in my mind. Had things gone differently there, I might have ended up much the same as those below.

It took a few moments for the traumatic memories to fade, their grip on my mind gradually loosening. When I finally refocused on the vision unfolding below, my eyes were drawn to the central castle. It wasn’t a fortress in the traditional sense, but a place of splendor and wealth. Vast towers at each corner, larger than any garrison, showcased a peculiar architectural style. They had enormous windows near their peaks, some spanning nearly thirty feet. The fires had reached them as well, the flickering flames casting ominous shadows within. I narrowed my eyes, peering closer, and could just make out the silhouettes of large wings and feline bodies trapped within.

My gaze snapped to the banners flapping in the swirling smoke, and my eyes grew cold. They were the same banners that had flown above the Deadwind Legion when they ambushed us in Bluegate Keep. They had fought alongside Grace.

So this was the Gornrod Alliance? I felt significantly less pity as I looked around the city once more. The deaths of the innocent weighed on my heart, but they had attacked unprovoked. They had tried to stop me from saving Sari, wounding and nearly killing me in the process. It was their leader’s fault my sunpurge had started to spread in the first place, and only the Ice Spirit’s intervention had allowed me to survive.

Turning away from the burning city, I closed my eyes and focused on the image of the Lord of Ash. The vision shifted, and when I opened my eyes again, I stood in the castle’s throne room. The room had a soaring ceiling, nearly a hundred feet tall, but writhing coils of smoke obscured it. Flames danced on the proud banners on the walls, and once-ornate decorations melted into slag.

The source of the heat stood before me, the tiles blackened and cracked beneath his feet. A shiver ran down my spine as I recognized him—the exact image of the Fire Demon from my visions. A cowering mortal lay on the ground before him, propped up against the base of the throne. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and when he coughed, blood trickled from his lips, instantly evaporating in the withering heat.

What was shocking about this man was his soul. It was at the peak of the seventh level, yet completely rained of mana and smothered by a foul taint. Judging by the deep gouges and battle scars across the massive throne room, their battle must have been fierce, if short. Otherwise, there was no way the building would still be standing.

The man wore a half-melted crown on his head, and his armor, one of the finest quality, bore the remnants of sixth-level enchantments. His hand limply grasped a sword hilt, but only a few jagged shards of steel remained. Thick black scars, the telltale signs of infernal corruption, marred his flesh—the same corruption that had crippled Levin.

"You’ll... die for this," the man rasped, struggling to sit upright, coughing up another mouthful of blood. "For my castle, legion, and for my people. They’ll send you back to hell..."

The demon squatted down, his razor-sharp talon tilting the man’s chin up. "Revenge, mortal? It was that same cause that brought me here. Had you not touched her, you could have lived another year. Two, if you were lucky. But I don’t intend to let you continue this cycle. Your kingdom burns today, and none shall be left to avenge you."

The man’s eyes filled with righteous indignation, his lips moving to form a retort, but the demon merely snorted. His claw flicked forward, and the king’s scream was cut short. As his head fell to the ground, his final breath escaping his lips, the light faded from his eyes.

The demon rose to his full, imposing height and inhaled deeply. The flames responded, surging forth to consume everything within the throne room. I shielded my eyes against the blinding glare, flinching as the heat washed over me. It couldn’t harm me, of course, but the sensation felt too real to ignore.

When the fire finally subsided, everything had been reduced to fine white ash. I stared at the dust where the king had slumped, my tail twitching uneasily. Something about this overwhelming power felt familiar, evoking a profound sense of sorrow within me. But I shook my head, pushing the feeling aside, and looked up at the demon. Now wasn’t the time for introspection.

The demon’s back was turned to me, his head bowed slightly, his gaze still fixed on the king’s remains. Tentatively, I reached out with my soul, gently brushing against his, as soft as an autumn breeze. I held my breath as he stiffened, turning sharply, his burning red eyes scanning the empty room.

Fable had been right; he could sense me.

"Could it be...?" the demon whispered, his voice hushed in the ruined throne room. "Xiviyah?"

I froze, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. It made sense that he knew my name, but hearing it spoken aloud sent a shiver down my spine. There was something about the way he said it, a hint of eagerness, or perhaps...hope?

"I-I’m here," I finally managed to stammer in reply.

The demon didn’t react, and after a few tense seconds, shook his head slowly. "Damn it all, it’s been too long."

My hands tightened into fists, and I bit my lip, trying to gather my courage. I didn’t understand why I felt so reluctant, but the feeling was there, a sense of trepidation that held me back, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d already come this far; why couldn’t I take this last step?

A wave of urgency swept through the soul bond I shared with Fable, filling me with an irrational fear. At the same time, my form flickered, growing more faint and hazy. Something was happening in Haven. Something terrible.

It was that spark of urgency that finally spurred me to action. I reached out with my soul once more, this time directly connecting with the demon. It was similar to what I had done with Luke, only this time I was careful and kept the bond shallow. This way, the demon shouldn’t be able to control my vision.

The Lord of Ash stopped in his tracks, his entire body rigid. I swallowed hard as his soul accepted my invitation, and he turned to face me again. This time, his glowing, ember-like eyes locked onto me immediately, and he balked in surprise.

"So it was you," he said, quickly regaining his composure. The glowing embers of his eyes traced my body, lingering on my face with a desperate ferocity, like I was water in the desert.

I shivered under his gaze, my tail curling around my leg. The demon held no lust or hostility, but his stare made my skin crawl. He took a step toward me, hand half-raised, grasping toward me as though he were afraid I would disappear. It was probably just a reaction to the ephemeral state of my soul and tentative grip on the vision.

"I-I’m sorry for coming to you like this," I said, looking away and clasping my hands together. "I’ve tried everything, and didn’t know what else to do."

"No," he said softly, shaking his head. "There is no better place than in the burning hall of our enemies."

Our enemies? I looked up, startled by his choice of words, but he didn’t seem to notice, continuing on.

"Now, what is it you wish, Oracle? Why have you sought out the Lord of Ash?"

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