Chapter 154: Rise of the Fallen Angel
Waking up felt like chewing on broken glass.
Every nerve in Kane’s body screamed in protest as he cracked his eyes open.
A warm fire crackled nearby, chasing away the biting wind howling outside the ruined sanctuary walls.
Glancing down at his right arm, Kane noticed tight bandages wrapped securely around his bicep. His ribs carried the same neat stitching.
"You really know how to take a beating, husband," Misha murmured, pressing a wet cloth against his forehead.
"Occupational hazard."
Pushing himself up with a groan, he leaned against the shattered altar.
’I feel like a carriage ran over me twice,’ Kane admitted, testing the flexibility of his shoulder.
’But the stitching holds perfectly. Misha learns fast.’
Looking past his wife, Kane spotted Griselda pacing relentlessly near the temple entrance.
Her long violet hair whipped around her pale shoulders as she walked tight circles. Golden eyes constantly darted between Kane’s resting spot and a small stone table.
Sitting right in the center of that table was the glass vial, glowing with azure Serpent blood.
’She waited for me to wake up instead of just taking it,’ Kane realized, a genuine sense of respect settling in his chest.
"Hey, angel," Kane called out, his voice rough.
"Stop wearing a hole in the floorboards. Get over here."
Griselda stopped instantly. Her eyes locked onto him. Striding quickly across the ruined sanctuary, she stopped just short of the firelight. Her pale hands moved in a flurry of rapid, anxious gestures.
[You are awake. The blood is secure. Are we doing this now?]
"Right now," Kane agreed, gesturing toward the vial.
"No point in waiting. Misha, you ready to play nurse again?"
"My rings are prepared," Misha answered, stepping up beside him.
Her bands began spinning in a steady, serene rhythm.
"Celestial seals require a delicate touch. If we just pour the mythical blood over the runes, the sudden mana rush might stop her heart."
"Then keep her heart beating," Kane instructed.
Turning his attention back to the fallen angel, Kane offered a reassuring nod.
"Your turn, Griselda. Let’s see that lock."
Taking a shaky breath, Griselda reached for the buckles of her leather tunic.
Her fingers trembled slightly, betraying centuries of pent-up anticipation. Undoing the straps, she let the leather fabric slide off her pale shoulders, dropping it to her waist.
Long violet hair cascaded down her bare back, contrasting sharply with her pale, flawless skin. She turned to face him fully, offering no modesty.
Right in the center of her chest, resting beautifully between her big breasts, sat the intricate golden seal.
Divine runes pulsed with a stubborn, restrictive light, digging deep into her flesh to keep her true nature chained.
’That looks painful,’ Kane observed, keeping his gaze professional despite the highly distracting view.
’Gods really love branding their mistakes.’
Picking up the glass vial, Kane popped the cork with his thumb.
"This is going to burn."
Griselda tilted her chin up proudly, her eyes flashing with fierce determination. She tapped her collarbone twice.
[I have endured centuries of silence. A little pain means nothing. Do it.]
Kane didn’t hesitate. Tilting the vial, he poured the glowing azure blood directly over the golden runes resting between her breasts.
The reaction hit instantaneously.
Mythical blood acted like a solvent against the divine magic. Sizzling steam rose immediately from Griselda’s chest, carrying the faint scent of burning sugar and wild magic.
Griselda’s eyes rolled back.
Falling to her bare knees, she threw her head back in a silent, agonizing scream.
Centuries of locked mana suddenly flooded her mortal veins, expanding rapidly and tearing through her restrictive limits.
Her entire body convulsed, muscles seizing as the celestial power fought to break free.
"Now, Misha!"
Stepping forward quickly, Misha placed a hand directly onto Griselda’s trembling shoulder. White rings expanded, wrapping around the fallen angel’s torso to smooth out the violent mana currents.
"I have her," Misha promised, her dual-tone voice echoing with authority.
"Breathe, Griselda. Let the currents flow. Do not fight the rush."
’Hang on, angel,’ Kane prayed silently, watching the azure blood literally wash the golden runes away.
The golden seal hissed one final time before dissolving completely, leaving her pale skin entirely unblemished.
A blinding pulse of pure white light erupted directly from Griselda’s spine.
Kane shielded his eyes as the shockwave knocked the campfire embers sideways.
Tearing through the air with a sound like ripping silk, two majestic, pitch-black, feathered wings exploded from her shoulder blades.
Swish.
They spread wide across the ruined temple walls. The wingspan looked breathtaking, radiating raw, untamed power.
Griselda slumped forward, her hands bracing against the cold stone floor.
Her beautiful black wings twitched, folding slightly as she struggled to process the sudden rush of sensory input.
Panting heavily, she took a long, stuttering breath. It was her first true, unhindered breath in centuries.
No magical barrier caught in her throat. No divine gag stopped the air from reaching her vocal cords.
Slowly, she raised her head.
Sweeping her long violet hair out of her face, she looked directly up at Kane.
"Kane," Griselda whispered.
Her new voice sounded raspy, rough from centuries of disuse, yet incredibly human and melodic.
Dropping the formal title completely signaled a profound shift.
She was no longer just a slave communicating through gestures.
"Thank you," she rasped, tears finally spilling over her eyes.
Leaning back against the altar, Kane crossed his good arm over his chest.
"Looks good on you, angel," Kane teased, letting the emotional weight of the moment settle.
"Now put a shirt on before you catch a cold. We still have a long walk home."
Misha let out a laugh, handing Griselda her discarded leather tunic.
"He ruins every romantic moment," Misha joked, helping the fallen angel guide her arms through the sleeves."
"I heard that."
"You were meant to hear it, husband," Misha shot back smoothly.
Griselda let out a beautiful laugh, testing the sound of her own joy. Rustling her black feathers, she adjusted the leather over her chest, finally feeling whole again.
’Mission accomplished,’ Kane smiled to himself, listening to the two women talk quietly near the fire.
’Got the blood, broke the seal, and gained a flying angel. Not a bad day’s work for a barbarian.’
"Whenever you are ready to move, just say the word, Kane," Griselda spoke again, clearly savoring the feeling of the words rolling off her tongue.
"I can scout the path ahead from the sky now."
"It’s not this path we should be worried about."
Kane said, his eyes changing.
"It’s time to wage war against the Elven Kingdom."
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