Chapter 274: The Price of Survival
Unbuckling his plate armor, Marcus dropped the steel chest piece onto a velvet chair inside their private palace suite. He aggressively unlaced his gauntlets and threw them onto the stone floor, desperate to shed the physical burden after the disastrous summit.
"Voranthar completely lost his mind, Elena," Marcus muttered while running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "He was just throwing a tantrum to scare Kronos. Rambling about nonsense."
Elena paced near the grand fireplace. Her interwoven silver battle-robes swished against the ground as she nervously wrung her hands. "He specifically said someone from our world, Marcus. Someone discarded who served nothing."
’It means absolutely nothing. The king is insane,’ Marcus thought, trying to forcefully push the creeping dread out of his mind.
"It means nothing," he argued defensively, refusing to meet her gaze.
Elena stopped pacing to look directly at him. "Think about the timeline. The Vanguard specifically targets us and actively hunts the Earthlings across the continent. The god leading them calls himself Rubedo."
Marcus tightened his jaw, a cold sweat breaking out across his neck.
"Rubedo translates to Red," Elena stated plainly, letting the horrific reality hang in the room.
Gripping the hilt of his golden broadsword resting against the wall, Marcus squeezed until his knuckles turned entirely white. "Red died on the altar in Aethelgard. We stood there and watched the mages carve him up. A person cannot survive having their soul ripped into fourteen pieces."
"The Vanguard reclaims a soul fragment every time a Herald pair falls," Elena countered, her voice trembling slightly as she took a step closer to him. "Chris, Megan, Tyler, Jessica, Brandon, and Ashley are probably all dead. It lines up perfectly, Marcus. Red survived the ritual. He conquered another continent, and now he is coming to execute us."
Marcus violently shoved the velvet chair. The piece of furniture crashed to the floor, scattering his discarded armor plates across the suite.
"We didn’t ask to come to this world!" Marcus shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "We were living the best of our life! Aethelgard kidnapped us and forced us to become heroes to fight their wars."
He picked up his broadsword to stare at his reflection in the golden metal. The terrified high schooler he used to be stared right back at him, hiding behind divine magic and stolen strength.
"We did what we had to do," Marcus said, desperately trying to convince himself. His breathing grew erratic. "We were thrown into a meat grinder. To survive this world, a person must become strong. We needed power to live. Red was the weakest link. His sacrifice gave us the magic to survive the Chaos beasts on the borders. We did it to survive."
Elena looked at him with profound sadness. "He evolved past being the weakest link, Marcus. He is a god now."
Marcus turned away from her and stared out the stained-glass window toward the eastern horizon. He absolutely refused to acknowledge the terror gripping his heart.
The boy he shoved into lockers, the boy he gladly handed over to the royal executioners to save his own skin, now commanded a million soldiers.
Suddenly, the warning bells across the Tarnstead palace began to ring wildly.
The grand hall of the Tarnstead palace was entirely empty. King Voranthar stood alone amidst the splintered wood of his war table. The realization of his isolation finally set in. He had traded everything—his original kingdom, millions of his own people, and his remaining dignity, for a coalition that had shattered in a matter of minutes.
He stared at the spot where the Morval kings had stood. ’They think they can run,’ Voranthar thought, his golden eyes narrowing in the dimly lit hall. ’They think they can hide behind their mountains while I face the slaughter. ’
Another distant, frantic ringing of the capital warning bells pierced his thoughts. Voranthar violently kicked the broken communication crystal across the marble floor.
He didn’t need Gildreath or Morval. He had the power of a god in the palm of his hand, and it was time to stop playing defense.
Voranthar marched out of the grand hall and dismissed his failing generals in the corridor without a single word. He bypassed the royal guard and headed straight for the deepest, most secure vault beneath his private solar.
He summoned six of his remaining Earthlings to meet him there.
Inside the central palace, Voranthar scrambled to mount a desperate counter-offensive. He dismissed his failing generals and summoned six of the remaining Earthlings to his private solar.
Julian Vance and his twin sister Julia stood at the forefront. They wore custom-tailored battle garments laced with protective runes. Derek and Brittany stood to their left, while Sarah and Zach flanked their right. Marcus and Elena remained absent.
Voranthar stood beside a marble pedestal. He pulled away a velvet cloth to reveal a glass reliquary. Inside rested a blood-red crystal radiating a brilliant crimson light. The artifact possessed a terrifying, concentrated energy.
"The Vanguard sits in my former capital," Voranthar stated angrily. "They defiled Aethelgard and turned it into a fortress. I am sending the six of you to take it back."
Julian crossed his arms, looking at the glowing crystal with obvious greed. "We are only six people, King Voranthar. The Vanguard left a massive garrison behind to hold that city."
"You will not fight them with just your own magic," Voranthar explained. He carefully lifted the crimson crystal from the reliquary. "We sacrificed millions of Aethelgard citizens to escape Aethelgard. We preserved the residual life force of those casualties. This artifact contains the weaponized souls of an entire kingdom."
He handed the crystal directly to Julian. The wealthy Earthling smiled as the immense divine power washed over his skin.
"I grant you absolute authority over this mission," Voranthar commanded. "Teleport into Aethelgard. Use the artifact to bypass their defenses. Execute every single Vanguard soldier occupying the city. Leave no survivors."
Julian clutched the crystal tightly against his chest. "Consider it done."
