The Cathedral's heart shattered in a blaze of golden fire and blue-green light. Stone cracked beneath Soren's feet as the shockwave tore through ancient walls, sending centuries of sacred relics crashing to the marble floor.

Dust and debris rained from the vaulted ceiling, scripture burning black where the conflicting energies had scorched it beyond recognition.

Soren struggled to his feet, blood trickling from a dozen small cuts across his face and arms. His ears rang from the explosion, making the world around him seem distant and muffled.

The broken scripture-chains lay scattered at his feet, their blue light extinguished, their hold over him finally broken.

For the first time in days, he stood truly free.

Through the settling dust, he made out Sylas and his remaining assassins regrouping near a shattered archway.

Their fluid movements reminded Soren of wolves preparing for another attack, hooded faces turned toward him with predatory focus. Blood dripped from Sylas's curved blade, the strange blue-green light still flickering along its edge.

Across the ruined chamber, Ser Calvian rallied the surviving Inquisitors. His golden perfection had finally been marred, armor dented, face streaked with soot, a thin line of blood tracing the edge of his jaw. Yet Solbrand still blazed in his hand, the golden fire dimmer but no less deadly as he formed his followers into a defensive line.

And between these forces stood Veyr Velrane.

The heir remained bound by scripture-chains, yet somehow he dominated the shattered gallery. His voice carried over the groaning stone and frightened whimpers of clergy members cowering behind broken railings. Each word pulled at the Church's fracturing authority, weaving doubt and possibility into the chaos.

"—witnessed by all present—""—sacred texts speak of those the Flame recognizes—""—House Velrane demands consideration of these signs—"

Soren's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. The shard pulsed cold against his skin, Valenna's presence sharp and alert after days of muted silence. He searched for his fallen shortblade among the debris but found nothing, unarmed in a battlefield of titans.

Veyr's pale eyes suddenly fixed on him across the ruined chamber. His endless calculations seemed to crystalize into a single, sharp moment of clarity. His voice fell silent mid-argument, leaving the gallery holding its collective breath.

With deliberate steps that favored his bad leg, Veyr crossed the debris-strewn floor until he stood before Soren. This close, Soren could see the strain beneath that carefully composed expression, the faint trembling in his hands, the tightness around his eyes that spoke of exhaustion kept at bay through sheer force of will.

"You cannot stay with me," Veyr said, his voice dropping so only Soren could hear. The usual manipulation had vanished, replaced by something rawer, more urgent. "The Flame revealed you, and no Velrane name will shield that for now."

His pale eyes darted toward Sylas, then back to Soren with cold clarity. "Go with him, live." Something flashed across his face, not quite emotion, but the closest Soren had ever seen to it. "Live, or all of this means nothing."

Before Soren could respond, movement flashed at the corner of his vision. Sylas made a sharp gesture, and his assassins surged forward. They moved like shadow made flesh, blades flickering in the uncertain light as they carved a path through the thinning ranks of Inquisitors.

One reached Soren first, a slight figure whose face remained hidden beneath their hood. A gloved hand seized his arm with surprising strength.

"Now," the assassin hissed, voice barely audible over the renewed clash of steel against steel. "Move!"

Soren hesitated, torn between paths that all led into darkness. Trust Sylas, who had spared him once for reasons still unknown? Or remain with Veyr, whose protection had just crumbled before his eyes?

The decision was made for him.

Calvian's roar cut through the chamber like physical force. "You will not leave these halls, heretic!"

Solbrand blazed brighter, golden fire surging along its length as the knight charged forward. His first strike cut through an assassin with terrifying ease, the body crumpling before it even hit the ground. His second blow shattered a marble column, sending fragments exploding across the hall like deadly projectiles.

The shard against Soren's chest pulsed with violent cold, Valenna's voice cutting through his indecision with crystalline clarity.

'The knight will never stop,' she whispered, urgency threading through her words. 'If you stay, he will end you. Take the path given, before the chains close again.'

Soren's legs moved before his mind had fully decided, the shard's cold presence pushing him toward Sylas and his waiting assassins. The hand on his arm tightened, pulling him into their defensive formation as they began a fighting retreat toward the shattered eastern passage.

For one heartbeat, he locked eyes with Veyr across the widening gap between them. The heir stood tall despite his chains, defying the priests above with words and presence alone.

His pale face showed no fear, only that same calculating intelligence that had kept him alive in a house that tested its own children with merciless precision.

"Survive, Soren," Veyr called, voice carrying despite the renewed chaos. "Return when you are ready to break them."

Then Sylas was beside him, green eyes fierce beneath his hood as he directed his remaining followers with sharp, economical gestures.

The assassins moved with practiced coordination, two breaking off to engage pursuing Inquisitors while the others formed a protective circle around Soren.

"Keep moving," Sylas ordered, his cultured voice incongruous with the violence surrounding them. "Stay within the formation."

They retreated through a shattered reliquary passage, precious artifacts crunching beneath their boots. One assassin threw something behind them, small clay spheres that shattered against the stone floor, releasing thick clouds of gray smoke that billowed upward, obscuring their path.

Another engaged a Cathedral guard who had emerged from a side corridor, blades meeting with a sound like angry wasps. The fight lasted three heartbeats before the guard crumpled, throat opened in a precise, economical strike that wasted no movement.

Soren struggled to keep pace, his legs still weak from days of captivity and the Flame's embrace.

Every muscle burned with exhaustion, his lungs aching as they pulled in air thick with dust and smoke. Blood from a cut above his eye kept trickling down, forcing him to wipe it away with the back of his hand.

Behind them, Calvian's roar echoed through the passage, words lost to distance but fury unmistakable. The Cathedral itself seemed to shake under renewed pursuit, stone groaning as powers never meant to clash within its walls continued their destructive dance.

Sylas led them deeper into the labyrinth beneath the Cathedral, each turn taking them further from the Eternal Flame and its golden guardians.

His curved blade left faint trails of blue-green light in the darkness, illuminating their path with eerie, shifting patterns that reminded Soren of underwater shadows.

"Almost there," one of the assassins muttered, voice tight with what might have been pain or anticipation.

The passage ahead widened, revealing a circular chamber whose floor was carved with intricate patterns.

Symbols spiraled outward from a central point, forming shapes that made Soren's eyes water if he looked at them too directly. The designs resembled those he'd glimpsed in Naeria's spilled books, yet older somehow, worn by centuries of hidden use.

Sylas stepped into the center of the spiral, green eyes finding Soren's across the chamber. "Time to disappear," he said, that perfect mouth curving in what might have been a smile on anyone else. "Unless you'd prefer to stay and explain yourself to the Inquisitors?"

The shard pulsed cold against Soren's chest, a silent affirmation. He stepped forward, crossing the threshold into whatever future awaited beyond the Cathedral's broken halls.

Behind them, the stones continued to rumble with Calvian's pursuit, relentless, righteous, and utterly certain of his cause. But for now, at least, the chains had been broken.

The spiraled patterns carved into the chamber floor began to glow with the same blue-green light that flickered along Sylas's blade.

Soren felt the stone vibrate beneath his feet, a thrumming that seemed to resonate through his bones and make the shard against his chest pulse in response.

'Ancient ways,' Valenna whispered, her voice carrying notes of recognition. 'The Church built over what came before, but could not erase it all.'

Sylas pressed his palm against a raised symbol at the spiral's center. The glow intensified, spreading outward in waves that made the air itself shimmer like heat rising from summer stone. The chamber filled with a sound like distant wind, though no breeze touched Soren's face.

"Where does this lead?" Soren asked, his voice hoarse from smoke and exertion.

"Away," Sylas replied, which wasn't an answer at all. His green eyes held secrets that went deeper than simple escape routes. "The Cathedral has forgotten much of what lies beneath its foundations. We have not."

The pursuing footsteps grew louder in the passage behind them. Calvian's voice echoed off stone walls, shouting orders that Soren couldn't quite make out through the ringing in his ears. The knight would not give up easily, perhaps not at all.

One of Sylas's assassins posted himself at the chamber's entrance, curved dagger ready. The others formed a loose circle around the glowing spiral.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.