Chapter 108: His Gathering Storm

Raziel sat on the edge of his bed, the room was lit only by the pale moonlight filtering through the narrow window.

He didn’t light a candle.

He preferred the dark, It made it easier to see the interface when it popped up.

The shadows in the corner of the room shifted and didn’t move naturally they clumped together, rising from the floor until they formed a human silhouette.

Arawn Rivers stepped out of the darkness, wearing his gray scribe tunic but the edges were stained with fresh mud.

“You need better security,” Arawn said.

Raziel didn’t flinch. “What do you want, Arawn?”

Arawn walked over to the small wooden desk and leaned against it.

“Marius is moving again, I thought torturing him and handing his confession to the Inquisition would keep him quiet. I was wrong, fear is making him desperate.”

“Who did he meet with?”

“The hooded figure,” Arawn answered. “The one from the crypt, one pulling his leash. They met in the old catacombs an hour ago.”

Raziel looked at him. “And you didn’t kill them?”

“I am an Exorcist, not a suicide squad,” Arawn replied dryly.

“The hooded figure has a mana density that makes my skin crawl. I stayed out of detection range, but I read their lips.”

Arawn crossed his arms.

“They changed the schedule for their ritual and know you are protected by Caelum right now, so they are going after the next best thing. They want noble blood to fuel the Source.”

“Lucian.”

“Exactly,” Arawn said. “They plan to use him as a sacrifice before you can stop it. They are setting up a trap for him during the next patrol rotation.”

Raziel processed the information.

A while ago, hearing that Lucian was targeted for a blood sacrifice would have sent a spike of panic through his chest, he would have felt the urgent, burning need to protect his friend.

Now, he just saw a logistical problem.

Lucian was a valuable asset and losing him would decrease their operational efficiency.

“I will handle it,” Raziel said.

Arawn narrowed his eyes, studying Raziel’s face. “You changed, Celeste. You don’t sound like the scared kid who cried in the archive anymore.”

“People adapt.”

“Sure.” Arawn pushed off the desk.

“Just don’t adapt so much that you forget who your allies are.” He stepped back into the corner and the shadows swallowed him whole.

Raziel remained in the silence for exactly three minutes, then, the heavy door unlocked from the outside and opened.

Lucian walked in, quickly shut the door and slid the iron bolt into place.

He held two sealed scrolls in his right hand.

“These were in the dead drop behind the armory,” Lucian said.

He walked over and handed them to Raziel. “One has Odessa’s personal mark, the other has the Exarch Council’s official wax.”

Raziel took Odessa’s scroll first. He broke the plain wax seal and unrolled the paper, reading the contents quickly.

“Aerion sent an update,” Raziel said aloud. “Ayres is back in the capital.”

Lucian tensed. “The Prince? I thought Seraphina took him.”

“She did and now she put him right back where he belongs.” Raziel kept reading.

“Aerion says Ayres acts completely normal in public. He smiled at the court noble, hugged his father today in the throne room, but Aerion saw it. For one second, Ayres’s eyes turned completely black. Just one second and no one else noticed.”

Lucian ran a hand through his hair. “He is corrupted like a sleeper agent right next to the King.”

“Worse,” Raziel corrected.

“He is practicing necromancy at night, Aerion tracked a rotten mana signature to the Palace basement, Ayres is building something down there, right under the Royal Guard’s noses.”

“Can Aerion arrest him?”

“No, Aerion lost his father’s trust. If he accuses Ayres without solid proof, the King will execute Aerion for treason.”

Raziel moved to the second paragraph of the letter. “And that is not the only bad news.”

Raziel read the lines describing the southern front.

“The Liberator defeated Exarch Darius,” Raziel said.

Lucian’s eyes widened. “Darius? He had two thousand men. He had heavy cavalry.”

“They are all dead. The Liberator ambushed them. she slaughtered them. Odessa says the Church is terrified, the commoners in the south are starting to worship her. Her reputation is growing every day.”

“Zion,” Lucian muttered the name Raziel had told him before. “She is moving fast.”

“Too fast.” Raziel rolled up the scroll.

“The letter says Exarch Caelum is furious. He lost a major piece on the board. He swore to destroy her himself.”

Raziel looked up at the ceiling of his room. The cracks in the stone looked like a map of his problems.

Eleven months.

That was the new timeline the system had given him for the apocalypse.

But it felt like he had eleven days.

Ayres was already corrupted and sitting next to a dying King.

Marius was conspiring in the shadows to murder Lucian again.

The Inquisition was waiting for Raziel to make a single mistake.

The Liberator was advancing, obliterating armies and leveling up.

And behind all of it, a mysterious Architect was manipulating everything.

Raziel looked at his hands. He had a power that cost him his humanity every single time he used it.

“Any good news?” Lucian asked sounding exhausted.

Raziel looked at him. He almost laughed, but the impulse died in his throat. “Yes, we are still alive.”

Lucian crossed his arms over his chest. “That is a low bar.”

“It is the only one we have,” Raziel replied.

He picked up the second scroll. The one with the heavy gold wax of the Exarch Council.

He broke the seal.

The moment he opened the parchment, the blue interface in his vision activated. It didn’t just flicker; it forced itself over his sight.

[EVENT UNLOCKED: THE ASCENSION TOURNAMENT]

[DESCRIPTION: In three weeks, all novices from Phaedra’s academies will compete in the annual martial and magical tournament in the capital arena.]

[NOTE: You have been forcibly enrolled by Exarch Caelum. Participation is mandatory.]

Raziel frowned. Caelum was using the tournament to test him publicly.

If Raziel refused, he would lose his protection.

He kept reading the system notification. The text shifted.

[WARNING: The Player “Zion” cannot enter this event due to her high hostility status with the Church faction.]

[However, someone working for her CAN enter.]

Raziel stopped breathing.

Zion couldn’t walk into the capital without starting a war, but she had a proxy inside the academy walls.

She had planted someone in the tournament.

Raziel looked down at the parchment. It was the official roster for the St. Celeste participants.

He scanned the list of names quickly.

Lucian Valerius Nyxian.

Lara Whitecliff.

Raziel Celeste.

He reached the very bottom of the document. The final entry on the list belonged to one of the recent refugee transfers.

Caius.

The quiet boy with the scarred wrists.

The boy whose Gift the system couldn’t decrypt.

The boy who absorbed moonlight and carried the exact same energy signature as the relics of the Ancient Pantheon.

’Did Caius work for Zion?’

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