The Leader of the Inquisitors scrambled back, clutching his mace. He looked at Kael's arm—the black, volcanic limb that pulsated with a hunger the world shouldn't know.
"Demon," the Inquisitor spat. "The Spire warned us. The Void leaks into the weak."
Kael stepped forward. The floorboards smoked where his obsidian hand dripped liquid shadow.
"Weak?" Kael asked.
He moved faster than the Inquisitor could track. He grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him off the ground. The silver mask stared back at him, terrified.
"I walked the bottom of the world," Kael said, his voice grating like grinding stones. "I watched the First Sword die to save you. While you were up here, playing dress-up and bullying miners."
He tightened his grip. The silver mask dented.
"He didn't Ascend," Kael roared, turning to face the tavern. "He died! He died alone, in the dark, holding the door shut so you could drink your ale!"
He threw the Inquisitor. The man crashed into the bar, unconscious.
The room was silent. Miners, whores, and drunks stared at Kael. They looked at his arm. They looked at the broken Inquisitors.
Usually, they would run. Monsters meant death.
But Kael didn't look like a monster. He looked... tired.
"Don't listen to him!" the bartender hissed, hiding behind the counter. "He's corrupted! The Spire says—"
"The Spire lies," Kael cut in.
He raised his human hand. On his finger, the Star-metal ring glinted in the torchlight. It wasn't the gold of the Spire. It was the white, cold light of the Old World.
"You know this ring," Kael said. "Every statue of the First Sword shows it. The Seal of Command."
A murmur went through the room. They knew it. It was the symbol of the protector.
"He gave it to me," Kael said. "Before the Ash took him. He wanted you to know."
He lowered his hand. The Obsidian arm dimmed, the red veins cooling to a dull embers.
"The barrier is falling," Kael said. "The war isn't over. It's just starting."
He grabbed his cloak and pulled it back on, hiding the arm. He nodded to Elric.
"We're leaving," Kael said. "If you want to live... don't trust the lights in the sky."
They walked out.
Nobody stopped them. The Inquisitors groaned on the floor, but the townsfolk didn't help them.
They just watched Kael leave.
Outside, the wind was cold.
"That was dangerous," Elric whispered as they hurried toward the back gates. "You just committed treason, heresy, and assault."
"I planted a seed," Kael said.
"A seed?" Elric looked back at the tavern. "You planted a war, Kael."
"Good," Kael said, looking at the Spire in the distance. "Let it grow."