The fires of Skeldmar still smoldered behind them as Liam's group made camp in the skeletal forest beyond the city walls. With the cult shattered, Skeldmar's nobles had quickly bent the knee—or fled into the wilderness like rats from a sinking ship.
But Liam wasn't thinking about politics tonight.
He was thinking about Elira.
The archer sat apart from the others, her back against a blackened tree, bow resting across her knees. Her face was half-lit by the firelight, angular and unreadable.
Liam approached her in silence. She didn't look up.
"You always this quiet after battle?" he asked.
She ran a finger over the carved runes on her bow. "You asked me once why I follow you."
Liam nodded.
"I fought the cult because they burned my village," she said. "But I followed you because you fight back. You don't beg the gods. You make them bleed."
Liam said nothing.
"I don't believe in gods, Liam. Not really. But sometimes…" she turned, and her eyes glinted like obsidian in the firelight. "Sometimes I think I could believe in you."
GOD SYSTEM – STATUS
Level: 11
Faith Points (FP): 28
Followers: 72
Angels: 2 (Kaelion, Rennan)
Potential Angel Candidates: 1 (Elira – Loyalty: 78%)
STATS:
• Strength: 19
• Speed: 21
• Endurance: 20
• Divine Power: 35
• Willpower: 23
• Charisma: 19
• Perception: 17
The System chimed softly in his mind:
Emotional bond forming. Charisma growth accelerated. Angelic potential enhanced through trust.
Liam sat down beside her. "You don't have to believe in me as a god."
"But if I ever do?" she asked. "What would that make me?"
He looked at her—really looked. Not just the archer, the fighter, the instrument of vengeance—but the woman who had stood beside him in blood and fire.
"I don't know," he said. "But you wouldn't be alone in it."
A silence passed between them. Then, quietly, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
Only for a moment.
But it was enough.
Elsewhere…
The Council of Thirteen gathered.
In a chamber deep beneath the earth, lit by floating crystals of voidlight, twelve cloaked figures surrounded an empty throne.
Velgor was dead.
Skeldmar had fallen.
And a new god had risen.
"This Liam Carson cannot be ignored," one said. "He is no false prophet."
"He commands angels," another hissed. "True ones. Not fabricated relics."
"He has the System. The only System."
A pause.
Then the thirteenth chair—empty until now—spoke.
A voice like cracked bone and ancient ice.
"Then we must give him a reason to fear. Release Subject Abyssum. Let him taste what true despair is."
Back at camp…
Kaelion stood sentry, perched on a crag of stone like a silent gargoyle. His golden armor was scorched, his wings retracted into his back, but his eyes remained sharp.
He watched Elira and Liam from afar.
He did not speak.
But a faint whisper stirred behind his mind, a message only angels could hear:
She is not yet what she seems. Be wary, flameborn. The archer walks the line between shadow and sanctity.
Rennan, the second angel, wandered the camp, blessing the weapons of the newer recruits. His scars pulsed with divine light, each one a mark from a demon he'd slain.
A boy barely sixteen approached him.
"M-my lord, is it true?" the boy asked. "That Lord Liam used to be human?"
Rennan smiled gently.
"He still is. That's what makes him dangerous."
The next morning, Liam and his group moved out.
Their next destination: the Ruins of Harrowspire—an ancient fortress swallowed by the Black Marsh, once a holy site, now twisted by demonic corruption.
Reports said a Fragment of the Crimson One resided there—one of the original cores used to create the demon cults long ago.
Liam needed it.
Not for power.
For destruction.
As they traveled, Elira rode beside him more often.
Their conversations were quiet. Subtle. Fleeting glances. Shared laughter, rare but genuine. There was no confession, no sudden kiss.
But the distance between them grew smaller.
And Liam began to wonder—
Could love survive in the heart of a god?
Or would it burn like everything else he touched?
Nightfall, Harrowspire perimeter…
They camped at the edge of the marsh.
A fog like rotting breath rolled in with the dusk. Kaelion's wings were on edge. Even the animals had gone silent.
Liam activated the System, scanning the area.
System Notification:
• Harrowspire perimeter scanned.
• Demonic presence: High
• Terrain: Corrupted
• Bonus XP awarded for purging corrupted holy sites.
Rennan set protective wards.
Elira nocked a rune arrow and whispered to it.
Kaelion lit his sword aflame.
Liam raised his staff.
"We move at dawn. We break their last altar and we burn their name from this land."
And the group of seven—gods, angels, and mortals alike—prepared to descend into the next pit of hell.
But as Liam closed his eyes to rest, the System stirred again.
New Commandment Potential:
Love is sacred when it survives the flame. Betray it, and be consumed.
Do you wish to accept this as your Sixth Commandment?
[Yes] [No]
Liam stared at the prompt for a long time.
Then, slowly…
He pressed Yes.
COMMANDMENTS – UPDATED:
Love is sacred when it survives the flame. Betray it, and be consumed.
The fog deepened.
And somewhere far ahead, in the corrupted halls of Harrowspire, something ancient stirred…
And waited.
[End of Chapter 16]