The sun in Ardentia did not rise—it blazed. Paul squinted beneath the shadow of his hood, the enchanted cloak Luna gave him offering minimal protection against the holy warmth that soaked the air like fire on oil.
Every step through the kingdom's capital felt like walking through judgment. Towers of gold and glass pierced the clouds, and radiant statues of their Sun God lined the streets. Clerics in white robes whispered blessings to passing soldiers, and children laughed under banners of peace and purity.
Paul kept his head low, clutching the rough leather bag of supplies he'd bartered from a merchant who wouldn't stop staring at the black ring on his finger.
"This place feels like it'll set me on fire," he muttered.
As he walked toward the massive cathedral at the city's heart, memories clawed at him. His son's laugh. His wife's soft humming while she cooked. Gone. Taken from him. Burned away.
He pushed forward.
This kingdom held one of the five Seal Fragments. According to Luna, it was guarded by the Knight-Paragon, Ser Aurelion—a living legend of light and virtue.
Paul had no interest in legends. Only results.
He slipped into the cathedral at dusk. Rows of worshippers chanted, their voices echoing like distant thunder. At the center of the great hall stood the fragment—floating within a prism of light. Unreachable. Untouchable.
But Paul was neither afraid, nor patient.
He waited until the cathedral emptied, then crept forward. As he stepped into the circle of light, pain shot through his body like white fire. The ground trembled.
"Intruder."
Paul spun around, only to be slammed against a pillar by a force unseen. Standing at the altar was Ser Aurelion, radiant armor glowing with holy magic, his sword drawn.
"You carry the mark of darkness," Aurelion said, voice like a hymn. "You will not defile this place."
Paul gritted his teeth, pulling himself upright. "I don't care what you think. I'm here for that fragment."
"You will not have it."
"I need it," Paul said. "I don't care if I have to burn this entire place down to get it."
"You seek resurrection," Aurelion said. "I can see it in your soul. And I pity you. But you are lost to shadows now."
Paul laughed bitterly. "Pity? That won't bring my family back."
"Then you are beyond saving."
Paul's eyes flared red.
"So be it."
Their blades clashed—steel against summoned magic. Holy light burned his skin, but he pressed forward. Every spell, every strike was fueled by grief. By guilt. And for the first time, he felt no fear—only fire.
The battle shook the cathedral. Glass shattered. Statues cracked. In the end, Paul stood over Aurelion, gasping, one hand glowing with a dark energy that pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
"Do it," Aurelion said. "Kill me, monster."
Paul hesitated. Then turned away.
"I'm not a monster. I'm a father."
He took the fragment and vanished into the night, alone—again.
Outside, the moon rose. Luna's voice echoed in his thoughts:
"You're one step closer. But don't forget—every life you take, every soul you wound, takes you further from the man your family once knew."
Paul stared at the stars, his heart heavy.
"I know."