The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 599: True Desire

Chapter 599: True Desire

Fable vanished in a blur of silver and red. The ground where he’d been standing shattered, throwing chunks of earth and stone outward, forming a crater nearly twenty feet deep. Allana alone reacted, but fatigue clawed at her limbs as she rushed to intercept him. Before I even registered that either of them had moved, she crashed into a building a few blocks away.

The wolf materialized above the exhausted priests, a looming mountain of claws, teeth, and crimson fur. One looked up, his mouth dropping open as he met Fable’s glowing eyes. Before any could grasp their mana, three of them were dead, crushed beneath his paws. A fourth vanished into his jaws.

The surviving inquisitors roared in anger, a primal scream that sent a shiver down my spine, and launched themselves forward. Their blades gleamed with the last vestiges of their mana, rekindling the light they had lost over the long, grueling battle. Fable loomed over them, his immense form casting a vast, blood-soaked silver veil across the sky.

My breath caught in my throat. Fable had vanished again. He blurred around the battlefield, a phantom of silver and starlight, seeming to materialize behind or above his prey, lashing out with a titanic paw that sent bodies flying and shattered stone. Just as quickly, he would disappear again, hunting down the next inquisitor. Each strike was accompanied by a sickening crunch and a spray of blood and shook the ground beneath my feet.

In seconds, the street was quiet. The ground cracked behind me, and I whirled to see Fable sitting behind me. His tail thumped against the ground, his low, satisfied growl setting the air trembling. He lay down, whining, and pushed his nose toward me. It would have been cute, save he was the size of a mountain and dyed red with blood.

He watched me intently, tail destroying another few buildings unlucky enough to be in its path. I swallowed hard and, stomach twisting, reached out to pat his nose. His breath pushed against me like a stiff breeze, carrying the sharp scent of blood and death.

"Thanks," I managed, forcing a faint smile.

I swooned, nausea twisting my stomach, and stumbled away. The night lit up again as Fable summoned his power, condensing to his normal fifteen-foot length. Most of the blood and gore sloughed off his shrinking body, splattering across the rubble in crimson waterfalls.

I leaned against the wall, staff held loosely in one hand, and looked at the devastation around us. The fight, long though it was, had stayed relatively contained to my locale. Still, the city had been ravaged by the shockwaves of the battle, and heaps of rubble littered the shattered streets for a quarter mile in all directions.

If the empire hadn’t been wise enough to evacuate before ambushing us...I groaned, rubbing my horn. Even without the loss of life, clearing the destruction and rebuilding would take months, if not years.

Allana stumbled out of the wreckage, blood streaming from a dozen cuts across her body. I jolted up, gripping my staff tightly, but she pitched forward and fell to her knees.

"You... were playing with us." Her eyes were dull and glazed, every breath causing her body to jerk in pain.

She jerked with a cough, blood spurting between her lips. She wiped it with her sleeve, but coughed again, hacking up more blood.

"How could you be so strong?" she mumbled. "You don’t even have mana, and he’s just a monster..."

I backed away, keeping my distance despite her apparent weakness. "You didn’t have to fight me. None of you did. I just... I want to be left alone."

Her lips curved in a bitter smile. "Even now, in the end, you keep yourself entangled in lies."

"No, I... ’Lies?’"

She looked up at me, a spark lighting up her fading eyes. "If you truly wanted peace, you would have left this war when you had the chance."

"I don’t... I don’t want anyone to suffer," I whispered, clenching my hand into a fist. "I... can’t do nothing."

Allana hacked up another mouthful of blood, and her spear clattered to the ground. "Then why? Why must you hurt so many you claim to protect?"

"There are always sacrifices in war." I shivered, hating myself for the words even as they tumbled out. "The innocent will suffer and die if I take part or not. It’s just... I want their suffering to mean something, to lead to a better future."

"The demons could never bring that." She shook her head, her voice growing weak. "But even if you’re right, you will be remembered as a traitor. As a monster."

"I’ve become what I had to. What you made me." I bit my lip, holding back a sob. "Elise...Aurle...the Glory Chasers... they didn’t care if I was a monster. They gave me their light and showed me there is something worth fighting for. You’ve already taken one of them from me, but I will protect the rest. All of their pain, their sacrifices..."

She didn’t reply, and when I blinked away the tears, her chest no longer rose and fell. I sighed and slumped against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut. The last lingering vestiges of her aura faded away, lost in the night.

"...I won’t let them be in vain," I finished in a whisper.

Fable pressed close, his warmth a comforting weight against my side. I let out a long breath, my fingers sinking into his thick fur. He nuzzled my chest, and I buried my face against him, letting the tears flow. For a long moment, there was nothing but the feel of his fur and the steady beat of his heart. Gradually, the tightness in my chest began to ease, and I straightened, wiping my eyes.

" We did it," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "They’re...gone."

My boot nudged the haft of the inquisitor’s spear. It gleamed in the purple light of the crystal enchantment, the steel vibrating with the strength of the many enchantments humming through it.

Something Gayron mentioned long ago flitted through my mind, and I shook my head, sighing. Powerful magic items were hard to come by, and even if they were inquisitor’s weapons, perhaps they would be of use. At the very least, I could keep them out of the church’s hands.

I thought back to the days I spent adventuring with Soltair and reached out, touching the spear. It vanished, drawn into my spatial ring. With a shaking hand, I knelt beside her and touched her armor. It disappeared as well.

Fable sat beside me, head tilted as I slid her spatial ring from her finger. His eyes brought a blush to my face, and I bit my lip, hiding it behind my back.

"It’s called...looting? I think," I said, not meeting his gaze. "It’s the right of the winner, I guess. That’s what Soltair said, at least."

His eyes bored into me, and I groaned, looking at the ground.

"I know, I don’t buy it either. But Luke needs these things." I ran over to where Fable had crushed the assassin and found the knife still sticking point first out of a cobblestone. "See? I think Jessia’s knife is only fourth or fifth level. This one’s seventh!"

I gripped the hilt and started to pull, only to freeze as shivers coursed up and down my body. A strange, powerful pressure more ominous than even Fable’s seized my soul, and I jolted back, unable to breathe. The feeling slowly faded, leaving me panting.

"Forgot about that," I mumbled once my breath had recovered.

I touched the hilt with a little more care, making sure not to grab it. The knife disappeared into the ring, and I moved on to the next inquisitor. Fable had crushed most of their defensive gear, and a few of their weapons were chipped because of his fur, but I took everything above the fourth level. Perhaps, with this next wave of demon gates, there would be demons with experience crafting these kinds of things, and it should be easier for them to just repair gear rather than build it from scratch.

As I looted the last few bodies scattered away, Fable sat up, ears pricked. A spike of caution drove through the bond, making my heart skip. He bounded to my side and I climbed on, casting my gaze around for whatever had caught his attention.

My gaze fell on the central citadel, and the Oracle of Eternity buzzed. I gripped his fur, hanging on tight as my vision twisted. Phantom soldiers shouted and screamed, engaged by the shadowy forms of demons. A silver light stood out amongst the indistinct figures of the battle, a soul heavy enough that it twisted the fabric of fate itself. Behind it, there was a presence unlike anything I’d felt before. I felt a tug, and presence intensified, beckoning me forward. Nithalee’s face manifested in the darkness before flickering away just as quickly.

The vision dissipated and my natural sight returned. I leaned over Fable’s shoulder, stroking his neck, and said, "Come on. We have to get to the keep."

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