Chapter 86 – The Emissary Who Defied Heaven
The mist of Wyrmshade Forest clung to Jean's cloak like memory.
Every branch dripped with silence. Every shadow whispered names that no longer had mouths to speak them.
"This place is cursed," Kael muttered, holding his side. "Moonlight doesn't even reach here."
"It's the only way we lose the Empress's trail," Jean replied. Whitney padded ahead, ears twitching at the unseen.
The further they went, the thicker the mist. But in the center of Wyrmshade, past broken stones etched with old god runes, they found a hut—wooden, crooked, alive with enchantment. Vines pulsed faintly, like veins.
A voice called from within.
"Enter. Or stay out there and die. I don't mind either."
Jean exchanged a glance with Kael and pushed open the door.
---
The woman inside looked unlike any Emissary Jean had ever seen.
She wore no crest. No divine emblem. No aura of holy light or ancient power.
Just a scarred robe, a hollow gaze, and one burned-out divine mark on her wrist.
"My name is Virell, once Emissary of Zepharion—the God of Storms," she said. "Now, I'm a free corpse waiting to happen."
Jean stepped forward slowly. "You severed your bond."
"I ripped it out," Virell growled. "When I realized the truth. The gods are not saviors. They're tyrants. And Emissaries are just their swords with names."
Kael's breath caught. "But your power—"
"Gone. The moment I disobeyed. Zepharion sent a bolt through my chest. I lived." She unbuttoned her robe. A gnarled, lightning-shaped scar pulsed faintly over her heart.
"Why are you still alive?" Jean asked.
"Because I learned to replace divinity with something else." She tapped her temple. "Free will. You'd be amazed how hard it hits when it's no longer borrowed."
Jean stared at her.
"Did you know the First Emissary?" she asked.
Virell laughed bitterly. "You mean the one who vanished after sealing the Divine Gate? Everyone knows of him. He's a myth."
Jean's voice was steel. "He's real. Kael saw him in a vision. And the gods want us to find the key he left behind."
Virell fell silent, then muttered, "Then it's begun. The Cycle of Return."
"The what?"
Virell looked at them both with pity.
"Every few thousand years, when mortals grow too bold and the gods too greedy, they restart the game. Cleanse the world. Break the gates. Open the heavens."
Jean whispered, "Ragnarok."
"Or something worse," Virell said. "And this time, they're using you, Emissary of Light, to lead the charge."
---
Outside, the wind howled. The mist turned cold.
Whitney growled—a scent had returned.
"Scouts," Jean said. "Iron riders."
"We can't stay," Kael murmured.
Virell threw a satchel at Jean's feet.
"Then take this. A compass. It points to divine resonance, not direction. It'll lead you to the nearest Emissary. Use it wisely. Some of us aren't on your side."
Jean looked up. "Why help us?"
Virell didn't answer immediately.
Then: "Because I still remember what it felt like to believe. And I want to see if you're the fool who changes the world… or ends it."
---
As they disappeared into the trees, the compass in Jean's hand quivered.
It pointed east.
Toward the floating isles of Astranova.
And the Emissary of the Star God.
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