Paladin 4: Chapter 33 (Patreon)

“By my honor, I have sworn to protect all those who have given their oaths to me!” Horon declared as he looked down the length of his sword at Darren. “I will not suffer the death of a loyal man so near the steps of my own home.”

Darren had found himself in a rather tricky situation. Fighting Horon would only lead to more problems. If he lost, he’d be entirely reliant on his Pheonix’s Blessing and his other bodies to recover. He’d be left in a weakened position at a time when Kalaziel was reaching for ever greater heights of power. And if he won, he’d have lost a valuable potential ally against Kalaziel. There was simply no winning position for him.

He needed to talk his way out of this. But unfortunately, out of all of Darren’s skills, this wasn’t one of them. He wished he had Thalia or Cassandra with him. Even Sasha would be better at getting out of this situation than he was.

But he was on his own. So he scrambled to come up with the right thing to say.

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“I trust my own eyes more than your words. I don’t know you, and you’re not even a seraph. Which lands do you hail from, and what offer has Kalaziel given to recruit your help? Did he offer you rule over one of the mortal kingdoms of the Sacred Seas? I wouldn’t put it past him to sell our mortal charges off to a foreign power for a few more swords at his side. He knows nothing of honor or our ancient sacred duty.”

Horon squinted at Darren, eyes fixed tightly on him. Darren received a warning from his own analysis skill.

Prime Saint Horon has used his identification skill, Soulsight (Mythic).

Your realm of power and your most recent hundred battles have been revealed to him!

Darren grimaced. What poor luck. He’d killed a couple of seraphim, and before that he’d fought the feral seraphim who’d been corrupted by the evil eggs of Kalaziel’s minions. Most of those people had been former Protectors. This was going to look very bad for him.

He needed someone to advocate for him. He reached for Gaviel’s corpse. Darren needed to cast resurrection on the dead man before it was too late.

But Horon pointed his sword at Darren when he moved. “I sense a skill brewing within you. You will not defile a Protectors’ remains in my presence. If you hope to transform his soul into a minion of yours to aid your escape, know that I will strike you down.”

“I am bringing him back to life.” Darren continued channeling his Resurrection ability. The only way to prove what he was saying was by doing it, and once Captain Gaviel was alive again, he could explain everything.

“So be it!” Horon said. His brows drew tight with anger as he saw Darren desecrating the body of his fallen subordinate. He lunged forward like a fencer, springing off his back heel with incredible speed and force. Trapped in a tunnel as he was, Darren hardly had any room to dodge. He’d have to meet the attack head-on.

He was afraid to risk Melancholy against whatever weapon the Prime Saint wielded, so he drew his new sword, Inevitability, and held it edge first to intercept the blade. The ground cracked beneath Horon’s feet, and a spiderweb of cracks spread out in all directions.

When the tip of Horon’s sword met Inevitability’s edge, Horon’s sword exploded in a shower of Divine Aura and broken metal. The shards of metal shredded Darren’s Protectors uniform, leaving him bare-chested. Wind whipped through the tunnel, sweeping in Darren’s direction with the force of a storm at sea. The effect tousled his hair, and sweat gleamed off his brow from the effort.

Horon withdrew as quickly as he attacked. He looked Darren up and down, and a look of annoyance crossed his face for an instant.

“I will not have you duel me at a disadvantage,” Horon declared. He reached behind his back and pulled on the straps there, and suddenly his armor fell to the ground beside him, leaving him just as bare-chested as Darren. “There. Now the two of us are on even footing, and my honor is satisfied.”

Horon reached for a pouch at his hip. From it, he withdrew another sword identical to the one Darren had just destroyed. He tried his thrust again, and Darren blocked it just like the first. But this time, he used Fists of Peace to sweep Horon’s footing out from under him as he tried to retreat. Against the Fifth Order seraph he’d fought before, this had been enough to end the fight. But Horon was in another league. He sensed Darren’s trap before it was sprung, and in all the futures Darren explored with his Oracle Sight, not once did his sword find flesh.

The two probed one another several more times, neither willing to fully commit. Between the two, Horon was faster and stronger, but how long could he keep up the fight? As the battle wore on, Darren’s unique skills would make his power grow even greater. Could this Prime Saint say the same?

It was looking like he’d find out.

Darren realized he would have to be the one to strike first blood. Perhaps then the Prime Saint would finally be willing to negotiate. He drew Melancholy, pressing it into his other hand. His sweat-slickened palms gripped the familiar metal easily, and his heart beat faster in his chest than it had in a long time.

He thought he was prepared for anything, but when Melancholy lit with a brilliant white glow, he was surprised. He was so concentrated on any unexpected moves from Horon that he hadn’t expected any from Ashe.

Divine Aura swirled on an empty patch of ground in front of him, and Horon instantly materialized an energy shield to defend himself against this unknown attack. But this was no attack.

Ashe manifested her humanoid body, shining wings spreading from one wall of the tunnel to the other before she folded them around herself. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, and her bright expression met Horon’s wary eyes.

A moment later, Horon’s eyes lit with recognition, quickly followed by shock.

“By the Heaven beyond the Heavens... Ashe? What are you doing here?”

Ashe smiled in reply. “Hello, Horon. It’s been a long time.”

***

By her mere appearance, Ashe had quickly defused what had been about to become a life-and-death battle between Darren and Prime Saint Horon.

“How are you here? I thought you were destroyed, and your remains corrupted into a demon?” Horon asked.

“For a time, I was a demon. But Darren here cured me. Well, mostly. I have to use his sword for my body because my true body is in Kalaziel’s clutches, along with the bulk of my old power,” Ashe explained.

Horon looked at Darren with new eyes. “You can heal someone corrupted by the Lady of Darkness? How remarkable. What realm are you from, warrior?”

Darren didn’t really know how to answer that question. He shrugged. “I was born in Whiteguard, but I call Limedeep home.”

Horon’s brows scrunched tight. “Whiteguard? Limedeep? But those are both in the Sacred Seas.”

Darren nodded.

“Darren is from the Sacred Seas, though he spent a lot of time-fighting demons in the Seven Hells,” Ashe explained. “If you’ve been watching the mortal world over the past year, you’d have heard of him.”

Horon grimaced. “I’m afraid there has been far too much going on in the Heavens to divert my attention to mortal matters. Doubly so now that the ophanim can’t be trusted to be impartial. I suppose I will have to take your word that he is indeed from the Sacred Seas, not that such origins change much if he allies himself with Kalaziel. He has many exceptional human subordinates, as of late.”

Ashe shook her head. “Darren doesn’t work for Kalaziel. Far from it. In all the Sacred Seas, you’ll find no mortal man who’s caused our wayward brother more trouble than Darren Heavengrace.”

Horon’s eyes lit. “Heavengrace, you say?”

Darren nodded.

Ashe continued to speak with Horon, and eventually, the Prime Saint put away his sword. Darren did the same a moment later, and the two of them shook hands.

“You fight well,” Darren said.

Horon smiled. “And your pectorals are quite impressive for a mortal. Very defined. If our fight had been recorded, I’m sure it would fetch hundreds of thousands of views from adoring ladies everywhere.”

“...Thanks?” Darren wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. While he was no stranger to female attention, he’d never gone searching for it. He had enough women as it was.

Ashe blushed. “...Yeah... if it was recorded... I’m pretty sure I saw someone by the tunnel exit recording everything, so if you see a video online, it definitely wasn’t me.”

“Wait, and you didn’t tag me?” Horon looked aghast, while Darren looked confused.

“Anyway!” Ashe abruptly turned to Gaviel on the ground. “Darren needs to bring this guy back to life before he’s dead for good. Please don’t interrupt him while he uses his resurrection skill.”

Darren raised Captain Gaviel from the dead. He sat upward, wheezing and coughing as he fought to steady himself.

When he opened his eyes, he became even more confused than Darren was. Around him were piles of debris, several dead seraphim, his shirtless box, another Prime Saint chatting next to him, and a man who looked familiar but felt entirely alien to his senses.

Darren realized he hadn’t bothered to put his seraph disguise back on after his fight with Horon, and now that his identity was out in the open, there seemed little point in it anymore.

“W-what did I miss while I was unconscious?” Gaviel asked.

Darren didn’t bother correcting him. Coming back from the dead was stressful enough, and he found it better to allow most to think they’d merely been asleep.

He quickly summarized what happened for Gaviel. “People died. Horon showed up. I’m a human.”

Gaviel pinched his temple between his fingers, holding back a headache. “Huh?”

Darren’s usuall succinct and to-the-point method of storytelling just left Gaviel more confused. Ashe ended up having to explain the whole story from the start again, at which point things finally started making sense for the formerly dead Protectors captain.

“By the deepest pits of the Seven Hells, you’re a human?” Gaviel gaped up at Darren.

Darren nodded.

“Huh. If I’d known you were angelically challenged, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you during recruitment.” Gaviel shrugged.

Darren gave him a wry smile in return. They both knew Darren was the one who would have come out on top during their sparring session.

Horon helped Gaviel to his feet. He nodded in Darren’s direction. “Do you trust this man, now that you know the truth about him?”

Gaviel grinned and clapped Darren on the shoulder. “Human or not, this man saved my life. If I didn’t trust him with that after that, what kind of seraph would I be? Besides, I gave him a Protectors’ badge from my own hand. That means something to me.”

“And to me as well,” a friendly smile crossed Horon’s face, and he took Darren’s hand in his own. “And any foe of Kalaziel’s is a friend of mine. I’m sorry I drew my sword on you.”

Darren returned the handshake. “And I as well. Though I would like to spar with you still.”

Horon laughed. “When Kalaziel is behind bars, I’ll gladly take you up on a friendly match. But to that end, there is much to do. I hear you, and Captain Gaviel came all the way to see me with important news on that front.”

Gaviel’s smile fell. “Yes. Grave news indeed.”

“Then let’s not speak of it here in the streets. Return with me to my manor.” Horon took flight. Ashe returned to Melancholy, and Darren and Gaviel followed behind the Prime Saint.

Only then did Darren and Horon think to look for Commander Thorn. During the fight between Darren and Horon, the battered and wounded seraph stopped playing dead and started running for his life. His bag of holding was gone, and he was no doubt hiding somewhere to lick his wounds. Finding him would be next to impossible. Darren promised himself Commander Thorn wouldn’t slip away the next time they crossed paths.

Horon’s home was every bit as impressive as Darren expected. The Prime Saint of Honor clearly cared for his appearance, and his manor was every bit as elegant as the man himself.

Rows of bushes stood perfectly straight, without a single leaf out of place. The cobblestones were artfully worn, too much so to have occurred through natural use. The smooth sheets of wood resembled the timber-heavy look of the Eastwood Kingdom, and combined with the variety of trees, it gave the entire manor an air of bountiful natural splendor.

The three of them landed in an open area on the manor’s top floor, likely designed as a landing spot.

“I, Horon, have returned!” Horon announced upon landing at the steps of his own home. If anyone was supposed to answer the bold declaration, they remained silent.

Horon fetched a key from his belt and opened the door, letting his guests inside. They followed him through several spacious chambers that looked like they were designed for ballroom dancing or large gatherings. Many paintings and sculptures adorned the walls, striking a careful balance between displaying wealth and not being overly showy.

“Sorry, normally I have some servants here, but you know how it is. It’s been quiet lately, so I’ve given them some extra time off,” Horon explained as they entered a kitchen. He pulled a lever, and water poured out of a tap, which filled a bucket of water that he used to make some tea.

“Never cared for servants myself,” Gaviel said as he took a steaming hot cup of tea. “If I wanted someone in my house, I’d woo myself a woman. Something which I could definitely do if I were so inclined. I’m just currently focusing on work, that’s all.”

“Of course.” Horon gave Gaviel an even smile.

They settled down, and their voices turned to grimmer topics as he went through what Darren had found. He started with the ophanim. That much at least had already reached Horon’s ears through the words of his other Protectors’ captains.

“Explaining what Kalaziel has done to the ophanim has already won many Fifth Order fighters to my cause. The ranks of the Protectors have swelled as of late,” Horon explained. “But I can see in your eyes that you have more to tell me.”

“Aye,” Gaviel took a grim sip of tea. “Grim things are afoot. Let me tell you about what Darren here found in the woods outside of Calabor. The Protectors’ might be getting new recruits, but someone’s trying to thin us down. They’ve got these egg things they’re using to make our people turn feral after capturing them.”

Darren produced the egg he’d found as Gaviel continued the story. He pulled out a few fragments of the larger egg as well, adding details whenever Gaviel missed something.

As Gaviel spoke, Horon’s face turned from intrigue to disgust to horror, and finally to rage. The dainty teacup he held between thumb and forefinger shattered in his grasp, splashing hot tea over his lap that went entirely unnoticed.

“I see...” Horon’s knuckles went white as he clutched the broken shards of the cup. A human’s hand would have been cut to ribbons by the jagged shards, but Horon didn’t even notice until he went to take another sip of tea and received a mouthful of ceramic.

“Thins are grave indeed...” Gaviel summarized.

“To call this grave is to call cancer a cold. This is worse than grave. It’s a calamity.” Horon stood, eyes on the nearby window. “Come with me. You must present this testimony before the other Prime Saints. You will lay these crimes of Kalaziel out before the council of Prime Saints. With your testimony, I’m certain they’ll be forced to act.”