The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 490: Face to Face

Chapter 490: Face to Face

The first to land was Victor, the Justice Hero. He didn’t bother using mana to slow his descent, slamming into the ground with bone-jarring force just twenty feet away. I instinctively raised my arms, shielding my face, as the impact cratered the earth and sent fragments flying like shrapnel. They clattered harmlessly against my wards, but the sheer force of the impact made me flinch.

Victor stood tall in his gleaming silver and blue armor, surrounded by several of his Justice Armaments, including the translucent shield, sword, and spear. His helmet was open, revealing smoldering eyes and a face set in a grim scowl. One of his arms was tucked close to his chest, protecting the stump where his hand should have been. A shaped piece of steel covered the wound, but I remembered the gruesome sight of Kahlen severing it.

A silver streak followed Victor down, landing more gracefully, though still with a heavy thud. My heart sank, tail twisting anxiously, as I locked eyes with the girl within the silver aura. My hands instinctively tightened around my staff, and I shifted closer to Korra, seeking a sense of security.

Verity, the Fate Hero, was just as beautiful as she’d been in my visions. Her long silver hair mirrored her eyes, both flecked with shimmering starlight. She was taller than me by an inch or so, with alluring curves and an enviable figure. She exuded grace and confidence that belied her soul, which was only in the late stages of the sixth level. She held a thin, graceful longsword in her left hand, and was clothed in light, revealing armor. Her lips twisted in a frown as she gazed at me, eyes filled with reproach.

The last to arrive was R’lissea, who floated down gently, enveloped in a mist of green life magic. She clutched her gnarled oak staff tightly, biting her lip as she looked between our two groups. She wore a soft green dress that seemed woven of leaves and flowers, hugging her bosom and waist before flowing down loosely about her feet.

"It’s been a while," Korra said conversationally, her gaze sweeping over the three heroes. She didn’t appear impressed, however, and folded her arms, letting her gaze linger purposefully on Victor’s stump. "What happened to the hand?"

The Justice Hero’s chiseled face hardened, his remaining hand clenching into a fist. "Korra. I see your days among traitors have treated you well."

"Better than you, at least," Korra retorted, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Victor, Korra," R’lissea pleaded, her hands clasped together, "Please, do we have to—"

"Yes," they both said in unison, neither breaking eye contact.

Gayron chuckled wryly, shaking his head. "Honestly, I’m glad you idiots showed up. Those inquisitors weren’t worth the air they breathed, much less an actual fight."

"An Apostle?" Verity’s voice, sweet and melodic, sifted through the tension. Her eyes, however, narrowed suspiciously. "I’ve seen you before with her—" she gestured at me with a curt nod "—but why are you here? Aren’t you a leader of the demons? And how do all of those demons have your soul?"

Gayron leveled a flat, unimpressed look at Verity, not bothering to dignify her question with a response. Instead, he turned to Korra with a dismissive sneer. "Who the hell is this weakling? I’m surprised a sixth-level child like her isn’t wetting herself right now."

Korra froze for a moment, then a sly grin spread across her face. "No idea. Maybe she’s one of Soltair’s slaves or something. She looks like something he’d enjoy playing with."

Verity’s composure slipped a bit, her grip tightening on her sword. Her aura rose, but in the face of the seventh-level souls around her, it was like gentle waves lapping against the shore.

"Don’t insult him when you know nothing about him. He’s sacrificed everything to protect the people of this world, and is a kind, honorable, loving man. How dare you even speak his name!" she cried indignantly.

"Calm down, Verity, they’re just goading you," Vitor said, raising a hand toward her. He turned back to us, eyes narrowed. "We’ve come to claim what was stolen and bring a treacherous escaped slave to justice."

Korra folded her arms, her carefree demeanor gone. "Slave?"

Victor shook his head, sounding tired. "Korra, stop this nonsense and come home. It can be like the old days when we fought beside each other and closed gates together. I know you’ve sinned and broken the laws, but the justice of the gods is merciful, and you can repent. Please, just this once, do the right thing and turn her over."

She gave Gayron a long, searching glance before sighing, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Victor’s face softened, mistaking it for a sign of surrender, but she simply shook her head sadly.

"Victor," she said, her voice quiet but firm, "You’re not blind to the injustice of the Divine, are you?" It was a statement, not a question. "You know what they’re doing, how they plan to enslave this entire world to their whims. How can any of you stand with them?"

R’lissea shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Verity frowned, her brow creasing in confusion. She opened her mouth, the beginnings of a question on her lips, but Victor cut her off.

"It isn’t up to you to decide justice, Korra," Victor retorted, his voice dripping with righteous indignation. "You are but the Water Hero, called here to fight demons. You stand beside them now, a betrayal of that holy calling and purpose. This filth-blood—" he spat the slur with utter contempt, "—stole a Divine Artifact, robbing Verity of her birthright. To a lesser degree, she dared violate her slave contract and massacred an entire city to escape her punishment for equally heinous acts. You know about my ability, Korra, how I can see the crimes of a soul? Hers is black beyond belief, darker than the darkest night. Even Connor verified that."

Korra’s expression darkened, her voice hardening. "And what gives the gods the right to decide what’s right and wrong?" she demanded. "On one hand, they send heroes to hunt down a girl who escaped slavery, while on the other, they praise their servants for torturing and breaking her. I don’t care who you are; no one’s hurting Xiviyah."

"No, you’re wrong," Verity interjected, shaking her head desperately. "They didn’t torture her, not intentionally, at least. She had secrets and forbidden knowledge they needed to learn so we could stand against the demons. If she had just told them, they would have left her in peace!"

Her words pierced my heart like a dagger. How many times had I tried to "confess" to the inquisitors, only to be ignored? They had tortured my body and soul for days on end, often intensifying the pain whenever I tried to give them what they wanted. They’d used me as a training tool for new inquisitors, allowing them to experiment with curses, spells, and blades to hone their skills. And in the end, they’d invented the Soul Crest by abusing my soul, a process that, until me, had killed every slave they experimented on.

Korra stiffened as I sniffled, a tear rolling down my cheek. "Victor," she said, her voice cold and relentless, "tell your Church we’re coming for them, that we won’t allow their evil plots to come to fruition. Anyone who seeks to enslave another is wrong, and if you truly wish to ally with them, I will treat you no differently."

Victor flinched at her harsh words. "But—"

"No," Korra interrupted, her voice unwavering. "There are no ’buts’ about it. I’m not misunderstanding the situation, or brainwashed. As impossible as it might be for you to believe, I am choosing, of my own free will, to oppose the gods and their tyranny. I will fight anyone who tries to harm that cause or those I care about. Even you." She glanced at me, face softening, voice falling to a whisper. "I won’t compromise again."

Victor fell silent, exchanging a troubled look with Verity. The Fate Hero looked torn, indignant even, her eyes burning with frustration. It was as if she couldn’t comprehend why we weren’t listening to them.

"We need that staff," she finally muttered, eyes drifting to where my staff glowed brightly in my hands. "My god needs it."

Victor raised his remaining hand, and his Justice Armaments began to hum, gathering mana. "Korra, I hate this. I really do. I wish you’d just come back and things could be as they were. Once I defeat you, I’ll bring you back and make you see sense. Just remember you forced my hand, and it didn’t have to be this way."

"Funny," Korra said, her aura igniting. "I was about to say the same thing."

Victor waved his hand, and his Justice armaments streaked toward us with lethal force. The air cracked as he pumped them full of mana, each weapon emanating the power of a seventh-level technique.

Korra dove forward, but, surprisingly, completely dodged past the incoming armaments. My eyes widened as their auras filled the sky, bearing down on me with the force of a mountain. I couldn’t handle something of their power. She knew, that, right? So why abandon me?

As the spear stabbed toward my chest, a massive clawed hand thrust in front of me, blazing with fire. It all but caught the spear, stopping it dead in its tracks.

"A little hasty, are we?" Gayron asked, lips curled in a smirk. He walked up to stand beside me, flanked by his demon avatars. The incarnation that had protected me growled, crushing the translucent armament in its hand. "How about you try me instead."

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