The Scourge of Gods

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Eriden walked past the forest's edge as a massive cathedral loomed above him.

Not entirely unexpected, considering Luna's former profession. The ancient-looking building rose almost as high as the surrounding trees, created almost entirely of copper, rising in a pyramidal design. It was crowned with six twisting spires, most likely representing the primary metals. The central portal had been molded with a grand stone facade, which depicted various Saints slaying the wicked as they drove their holy blades into the emaciated forms of witches and magi alike.

This cathedral might have looked beautiful once, but mud and water stained its walls, and the spires had rusted with age. The windows were broken, and the many indentations and artistic cavities held thousands of pools of shadows, lending the structure an eerie, sinister quality.

Eriden approached the entrance and pealed away the rotten wooden door as he stared at the skeletal-looking witches from the facade above, clawing at him. A barrel-vaulted nave soared hundreds of feet into the air, lined with arches, and the dark building was mostly an empty shell besides Luna at its center. She sat crossed-legged, head bowed, and arms wrapped around...her pregnant stomach? Inarhi didn't tell him she was pregnant.

"Luna?" called Eriden, voice hushed.

The sound of armor clinked, and a tall, hooded figure walked out from behind the pillar beside Luna, walked out of the shadows. Multiple straps hugged its breastplate and flowing white vestments, while a hexametala relic hung from its neck. A silver mask in the shape of a swan concealed his identity.

A Holy Saint.

Bloody hell, thought Eriden. Now this he wasn't expecting. Every mind had their own defense mechanisms, but Luna was in a coma. She shouldn't have had the strength to manifest such an entity. Perhaps that was a good thing, but not at the moment. Saints were trained to hunt and kill people such as himself, and he just noticed how incredibly naked he was in regards to weaponry.

Eriden started to back out of the cathedral.

The Saint advanced on him slowly, plated gauntlet stretching back and forth, as if in anticipation. He drew his long blade in a liquid whisper of copper-clad steel, then increased his gait with the sheer confidence of a warrior without equal. Luna simply sat, eyes on her protruding stomach.

Heart rate spiking, Eriden turned and ran towards the entrance. He slipped through the doors and across the clearing, trying to get some distance on his pursuer. Seconds later, one of the rotten doors exploded outwards. It flew through the air and splintered across the grass. The Saint lowered his foot, continuing forward.

"Stay back!" yelled Eriden.

He raised his hand and shot tendrils of energy into the earth.

Four panels of packed dirt burst from the ground around the Saint, securing him. The warrior paused, pressed awkwardly together by Eriden's spell. Not for long. Cracks branched along the surfaces of the earthen panels, then crumbled. The Saint walked forward again, the clotted residue falling from his rounded pauldrons, soiling his white vestments.

Eriden ground his jaw. Like normal metal, the Saint's armor deconstructed and dispersed energy to render magic useless. He'd hoped that particular law wouldn't have worked in this place. He was wrong. Luna's mind operated as she wanted it to, which presented another grave disadvantage.

"Great," Eriden muttered.

He was wasting too much spiritual energy at this rate, and he didn't stand a chance against a Saint. Eriden wasn't built for battling human soldiers. Even if Eriden was at full power, had access to his enchanted blades, and an army of magi behind him, he still wasn't sure he'd be able to take down Luna's misguided warrior.