Chapter 188: Luna

Days later. Inside a town not far from the border…

The chatter of voices overlapping over each other, merchants calling out prices and buyers haggling for better deals droned in a cacophony around Finn as he weaved his way through a crowded market district with measured steps, a canvas bag of supplies slung over one shoulder.

This was his second time coming to this town. The first time was to scout for information. He hadn’t interacted with anyone at the time. But this time he did, though only to the vendor he purchased some supplies from — food to last him and the other two Transcendents at least a month.

Not that they couldn’t survive without sustenance for extended periods, or at least forage for food when required. But coming to this town also offered Finn information about the latest developments in regards to the underground facility they had escaped from a few days ago.

Nothing much had happened since then. He and Thalia, along with the unconscious Ailin, had taken camp in the mountains, miles from this town. Authorities had come to the site of devastation, swarming the area in patrols.

He’d seen Priests, Paladins, even Champions… but never an Incarnation, and definitely no Gods at all, which was very surprising.

It was only now, weaving his way through the town that he seemed to realize why.

A young man sat at the periphery of an open food stall, eating in solitary silence among other patrons.

The vendor’s assistant at the stall where Finn had purchased supplies had been gossiping loud enough for half the district to hear, her words sharp with intrigue as she described Finn, the ’generous’ customer — based on the tip he left behind — to the next patrons in line, as if chastising them for not being as generous.

The young man had kept his eyes on his meal at first, but something in her tone had made him lift his gaze.

Finn was moving through the crowd with purpose, nothing remarkable about his gait, yet the young man found himself watching. Something about the way people unconsciously parted for him, how his presence seemed to make people subconsciously move out of his way, until he entered into the thick of the crowd…

Then he was suddenly gone. One moment visible, the next absorbed by the crowd as if he’d never been there at all.

The young man paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully and began scanning the market with renewed focus. His brow raised slightly as he failed to spot even the slightest trace of Finn.

His hand shifted, ready to push away from the table as if to stand and go in search of Finn, but the sound of a chair scraping across stone, pulled directly in front of him, made him pause.

A girl sat down with the casual grace of someone utterly unburdened by propriety.

She was extremely beautiful. Striking in a way that seemed to exist independently of her actual features. Within moments, the ambient noise of the market shifted. Patrons’ conversations faltered. Heads turned. Even those standing in line at the raw goods vendors paused. And immediately, she became the subject of their hushed conversations.

The young man released a long sigh and looked at her with the patience of a senior addressing a wayward junior. “Didn’t I ask you to maintain a low profile?”

The girl smiled, utterly unrepentant. “I am being ’low-profile.’ It’s hardly my fault if my radiance refuses to be diminished.” She said it with such genuine confusion that she almost sounded innocent.

He sighed again and returned to his food, eating with deliberate speed, as if finishing before whatever came next might somehow grant him refuge from it.

The whispers intensified around them. Patrons leaned toward one another. The word “saintess” began circulating, uttered with reverence and speculation. The girl paid none of it any attention, her focus entirely on the young man as he ate.

“What were you staring at earlier?” she asked, tilting her head with idle curiosity.

He didn’t answer, still focused on his meal.

But he didn’t even get to finish it.

The market quietened abruptly, making the young man release a long sigh and drop his fork. He straightened and stood, stepping forward to face the newcomers who had caused not just the patrons but the entire market district to hold its breath.

Six Paladins stood at a careful distance, their armor catching the light in ways that made them unmistakable. One stepped forward immediately upon seeing the young man rise, moving with respect.

“Please,” the Paladin said, voice pitched low and earnest. “Continue your meal. We don’t mean to intrude.”

The young man waved his hand dismissively. “There’s no point. It defeats the purpose of what I was trying to do here.” He turned slightly toward the girl. “Come.”

They walked together toward the Paladins, the girl trailing slightly behind with perfect regal poise. The market-goers watched in stunned silence as the group was escorted to a carriage stationed a street away, elegant and clearly prepared for their arrival.

As the carriage disappeared, the market erupted.

The gossip that followed was frantic. This was hot news. Six Paladins! An unprecedented sight in a town at the kingdom’s fringe. At most, a single Paladin might grace the town once yearly during the shadow festival, and even then only for moments. The priests handled matters, not the high echelons of the church.

But six Paladins, moving with such obvious deference, treating those two with such reverence and importance?

The girl had been compared to a saintess, yes, but if so, who was the young man? To command such respect from the Paladins themselves? The questions spiraled, each answer generating three more.

Within hours, the entire town would know something extraordinary had transpired.

.

.

The carriage came to rest before the Temple of the Shadow God, and they were led inside, straight down to the very depths where the air itself felt thick with accumulated power.

Contrary to the belief of the townsfolk, powerhouses dwelled in this temple. Real powerhouses.

The young man and the girl were led to the lowest chamber, where these powerhouses seemed to have gathered in waiting for their arrival.

The chamber held a circular table. At its head sat a man of approximately thirty years, his presence radiating controlled authority. The young man strode into the chamber like he owned it, and took a seat at the opposite end of the table without hesitation or acknowledgment of where others sat. Yet no one questioned it.

A short silence passed, then the man at the head of the table smiled in greeting, but there was calculation beneath it.

“Welcome. We’ve been expecting you, though we expected the courtesy of notification upon your arrival in the region. We sent letters to the capital.”

“I apologize,” the young man said, and there was genuine contrition in his tone. “I prefer to gather my own impressions before arriving at conclusions. Reading reports and investigating personally are different matters.”

The man’s frown deepened. “You’ve been to the site itself?”

“I reached the borders the same day I received my orders,” the young man confirmed. “I spent several days cataloguing what I could find there, then came to this town. I’ve been here less than a day.”

The man at the head of the table frowned further, leaning back slightly. He had also been at the borders himself, taking matters into his own hands when the response from the capital had been slower than necessary. But not once had he sensed a trace of the young man’s presence.

It just went to show how vast the gap between them was. The young man was the Holy Son after all.

“I will accept my punishment for acting without orders—”

“I don’t hold that against you.” The Holy Son raised a hand. “Time was critical, and you made the right choice to investigate. You did a good job.” He smiled, offering a thumbs up with such complete sincerity that the table fell silent.No one could quite tell if he’d just complimented them or subtly insulted them.

The Holy Son’s expression shifted, becoming serious. “I should explain why I’m here. You’ve all suspected it, I’m sure. The higher-ranked priests called to this temple. The secret Paladin deployments. The Champions assembled here.” He paused, meeting each pair of eyes around the table methodically before focusing on the man at the head, the strongest Champion of the Shadow God in the room.

“It’s all true.”

Everyone drew in sharp breaths.

“The power of the Shadow God,” the Holy Son continued, “has diminished. Permanently. A fundamental part of Him has been lost. You have all felt it.”

Heads nodded, though some with greater reluctance than others.

“Nocturne is gone as well,” he added quietly. “There is only me now. The Holy Son. The next incarnate vessel. But even when I become the full incarnation, the power I will wield won’t be sufficient to stand as a stronghold against the forces gathering at our borders. Other Gods sense something has changed. They’re beginning to move, and we need to understand what’s happened before they do.”

He gestured toward the girl seated beside him. “Fortunately, we’re not without allies. The Goddess Luna has sent her incarnation to assist us. In doing so, she demonstrates her sincerity and commitment.”

The girl tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment. “Not only Luna,” she added. “Two other Gods walk that walk the path of night as well. The moon and shadows must remain bound, and we cannot allow the radiance of the Sun Gods to penetrate these lands.”

She paused, and her expression sobered. “But it is worse than a simple matter of alliance. Something vital has happened not only to the Shadow God, but to the Storm Goddess of the kingdom to the north.”

Shocked murmurs rippled across the gathering.

“I understand you’ve been at odds with the kingdom of the Storm Goddess,” the girl continued. “But that conflict must be set aside. If two Gods of the night fall, two major kingdoms will crumble with them. The light will have no obstacle, and what comes after…”

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