Rune Knight: Book Two of The Empress Saga

CHAPTER THIRTY

Ban swung his sword with the full might of his flared sigils behind it. The hellish impact of steel against steel echoed through the burning streets. Kastus blocked the strike with his full blade, his own sigils flaring. The etherlight pouring from their armor fought to outshine the other.

Kastus' voice was strained as he pushed against Ban's full blade. "How many of your comrades have you killed, Bannlyth?" he asked. "These men trusted you once."

"Don't you dare," Ban shouted. "I only killed soldiers. How many villages did the legion burn on their march to Ecclesia? How many Altieri are burning in their homes right now because of you?"

"You should never have come back!" Kastus roared. "This is your doing! Why couldn't you just die like you were supposed to?"

The angle of Kastus' full blade shifted slightly, and Ban was taken off-balance. A perfectly executed parry. Ban reset his stance, though it came barely in time to defend against the general's renewed assault.

Ban's guard and his armor were being battered by Kastus' weapon. His breastplate bore more dents than before, and a few of his sigils had ceased to function. He'd yet to land a solid blow against Kastus.

The general was better. There was no way around it. Kastus had Ban outclassed in every regard when it came to swordplay. He was faster, more precise, and he could push more ether through the lines of his sigils. Kastus fought to kill; he wasn't aiming to disable or to maim. It was all Ban could do to keep himself alive for another moment.

Flames raced alongside them, and Karst armsmen screamed as they were taken by the fire. Kimpo or Deebee's work; Ban couldn't spare a glance to find out which. Sasha kept close to Enfri, and the pair of them were doing what they could to keep the dragons from being overwhelmed by the rest of Kastus' detachment. Warhorses milled around, screaming as they tried to find a path away from the fires and clashing steel. Armsmen stumbled about, striking at empty air and clawing at their eyes as if gripped by nightmarish hallucinations.

Through it all, Ban and Kastus fought.

The elder magic revealed everything. Ban understood it all. His teeth ground together. He was furious at himself for being blind to it all for so long.

They played me, from the very start. Kastus, Father, and even Rodrik. Every one of them wants me dead.

There was a part of Ban that found his reaction to the knowledge interesting. He thought he should feel pain, a greater sense of betrayal. Instead, having the elder magic reveal it all to him brought a sense of catharsis. It was confirmation of what he'd suspected in his heart for some time. His family despised him, and now Ban felt he was free to despise them back.

It was a relief to be allowed to hate.

A base emotion. Dark and wicked. Why, then, did humanity feel hatred? Why was it a part of him if it was wrong to feel it? Ban thought he understood now. Hate was a tool. It focused and honed. Ban's hatred looked out through his eyes and saw the slayer it was made to destroy. It then became pure wrath, setting his blood on fire and giving him the strength he desired.

Your final lesson to me, Ban thought as he flared his sigils anew.

Ban roared as he pressed forward. His frenzied strikes appeared to take Kastus by surprise, and the general went on the defensive for the first time. Ban swung, and his full blade slipped through Kastus' guard. It struck high on the general's shoulder and cut a deep furrow through the sigil inscribed there. The lines went dark.

Kastus backed away. His hand inspected the damage to his plate, and Ban could feel the angry glare coming from under his visor.

Don't let him recover. Press him. Kill him!