When the scream came, St. Giles was talking to the flag bearer.

But its appearance interrupted everything, and it should not appear in the normal world. It's ridiculous like finding a flock of sheep walking upside down in the sea, and they're hunting sharks. It is imbued with terrifying power that transcends the limits of human imagination.

For a genotype, St. Giles was able to understand more.

His psionic gifts came into play again at this completely inopportune moment, and the angel's wings began to tremble. Everything he saw began to spin until it became a great whirlpool.

Blood and corpses were just the most insignificant things in the maelstrom, they were nothing compared to the scarlet eyes in the center of the maelstrom. It's the only horror that you really care about.

St. Giles met it with his eyes, and in just a split second, his perception began to fall apart.

The angel tried his best to suppress the urge to scream, but it was clear that the eye was not going to let him go so simply. The scarlet light quietly bloomed, and a familiar voice appeared in the angel's ears.

"You see it." Horus Lupecar said. "Your talent is at work, my dearest brother. But what can it help you do? The odds are in my hands. ”

St. Giles tried to answer, but he couldn't.

The power of the thing that was speaking to him was too great to hide. With just a careless gaze, the angel felt an indescribably overwhelming pressure.

In fact, he wasn't just looking at an eye of Horus, he was looking directly at all the darkness of the waves of chaos.

He also had a clear view of Horus's current appearance.

The skin was elongated and twisted. His hands are disgustingly long, and he can encompass galaxies with a single finger. His face was pale and bloodless, and instead of blood, his veins were filled with endless souls of the dead.

They were wailing and telling St. Giles what they had treaded here, and exhorting him to go away quickly, and not to linger long.

However, he couldn't do it at all, and the longer he looked at it, the more his mind was drawn to it.

"You don't seem to want to leave." Horus's voice sounded again, with a little.

His countenance faded, but the stars did not, they were firmly wrapped in a giant claw, then slowly crushed. Instead of crumbs or fragments of the world, the slow flow from between the fingers was genuine sticky blood.

They were poured into a goblet in which blood swayed and countless corpses floated and sank. One hand shook the goblet and shoved it into St. Giles' hand.

There was a strong burning sensation from the place where the archangel's fingers touched the cup, but he couldn't let go of his hand at all.

Horus Lupecal smiled at him.

"Brother, I have always been very tolerant of you, even now. I understand your choice, and I don't really care about it. It's your own business to stand behind that liar, but I'll use my own means to reshape humanity and empires. I can't sit idly by and watch the future of humanity sit on an unstable lie – yes, you know what I'm talking about. ”

He looked meaningfully at the angel.

"Imperial truth, that is one of his lies. Of his 10 million lies, this is the only one I can understand. He needed a way to temporarily isolate the effects of Chaos, so he didn't have a choice, but what did he do to Luo Jia? ”

He sent Robert Killriman and his Ultramarines to destroy the City of Perfection, even forcing Loja to kneel. What kind of father can do such a thing? Brothers? ”

The angel stared blankly at him, blood slowly flowing from his eyes. With just a few words, his thinking was close to falling apart.

Is this a punishment? No, it's far from it. Horus didn't have this idea, he was just speaking to St. Giles, but he had gone beyond the concept of 'living beings' or 'humans'.

Even though the Ancient Four had recklessly strengthened the real-world shell he relied on to shake the Veil, it still couldn't withstand his power. So it's just a side price.

Horus looked at him with pity, and with a slight swing of his left index finger, the angel suddenly came back to his senses.

He took a few steps back and began to breathe deeply.

His seven points began to bleed in unison at this moment, and intense pain rushed from the other side of the darkness. They wanted to rush into the angel's body, defile him, and devour his spirit with them, and sacrifice them to the Ancient Four, but Horus would not allow it.

He annihilated them with just one look, completely.

Then the pain faded, and St. Giles stood trembling, his hands already hanging down, but not half of the blood was spilled.

After a while, he barely managed to fight his broken consciousness. Horus's voice came back at this moment, echoing in his ears like an echo.

He had already heard it once, but he couldn't understand it then, and now it was different, he understood exactly what Horus was thinking.

Then, he realized something.

Luo Jia did not kneel.

Both Robert Killiman and Conrad Coetzes had spoken to St. Giles about it, and in their accounts, Lorga Aurelian never knelt. In fact, the emperor even acted extremely guilty.

Does this mean that this Horus is still being deceived by Chaos?

He looked up, trying to gauge the other's face—however, at such a quick glance, his mind shattered again.

After all, he couldn't understand the laws of existence in this world, and this was not the realm that a sane creature should set foot in. He seems too pure here, so pure that he is completely out of place

The angel's biological instincts made him start screaming and keep backing. Everything he had began to swirl in the shards of sanity, like another whirlpool.

Unmoved, Horus stood still, still looking at him with pity.

"There is a world of difference between you and me." He sighed. "And this is the cage that your father has set up for you, my brother, you could have been in a better form than trapped in a shell that can be wounded by a blade, and gradually decay over time."

As he spoke, he suddenly became a little angry. The world beneath his feet began to shatter like glass, they didn't exist, they never came into being, they were just a small aspect of the future, but now they became reality by the overwhelming wrath of a god.

But He didn't come to create the world, He came to destroy it. At the will of Horus, they quickly turned to ashes.

"You see, that's the trap he created for us. A prison born by nature! ”

Horus roared and walked towards St. Giles, countless worlds born and destroyed at his feet.

"He feared that we threatened his empire, he feared that we would throw him off the throne, so he concocted this lie with countless lives. How many people have died for his plan throughout the ages? We are not genetically programmed, look at your wings, and look at your brilliance, St. Giles. Aren't you yourself the best proof? ”

He sighed lowly, stopped, stood where he was, and let his brother wail away, and he sent him back to the royal court, for he never wanted to kill St. Giles.

Killing him would not do him any good, and St. Giles could not die.

He looked down and saw the tall glass that had fallen to the ground, but the blood still hadn't spilled. Horus beckoned to it, and it flew over. He tilted his head, raised his glass, and drank the essence of the stars in the cup.

He loved St. Giles, and he wanted him to have power beyond the mortal realm, but St. Giles had been deceived by his father's lies for too long, and he could not change it.

Unless there is an external push.

The stars were gone, and the gods looked in horror at his father, who was tied to a stone tablet.

"Wait and see, father." He roared. "I'll change your lies!"

His father did not say a word, but bowed his head, casting a shadow to shelter the messenger who was weeping at his feet.

"My lord? My lord? ”

St. Giles opened his eyes groggily and saw a scarlet patch, everything in front of him was blurry, and his eyes were so painful that they seemed to fall out of their sockets. He barely looked up, trying to answer the call, but a fiery pain came from his throat.

"Your Excellency?" The man called again. "What's wrong with you?"

St. Giles still couldn't answer, but this time, he was in a better place. His strength was rapidly returning to his body, and of course, there were many more things with him, such as that brief conversation, and that Horus's face.

Great fear came back to his heart, and the angel let out a rapid cry from his throat. He fell backwards, his body shaking, and he almost fell to the ground. In the midst of the instinctive fear that should not have appeared, St. Giles finally reluctantly came back to his senses.

Fear can break some people, but it can also give others courage.

"I'm fine." He told the flag-bearer, Bellos. "It's just that old habits are hard to break, and I see some things that I shouldn't see."

Bellos nodded, not asking any more. But the angel suddenly grabbed his hand, and the force was not great, but his five fingers were extremely hot. Bellos's eyes froze, and when he looked up, he found that the angel's eyes were red, and bloodshot crawled all over the whites of his eyes, making him look extremely hideous.

"He sent me to you, flag bearer." St. Giles reluctantly spoke, his state at the moment could not be described simply as poor. His face was pale, his forehead was covered with sweat, and he looked like he was seriously ill.

Bellos bowed his head silently.

In the midst of the mountain of corpses and the sea of blood, the angel slowly lowered his head. He let go of the hand that was holding Bellos and grabbed the flagpole with his backhand.

"My father was a thoughtful man, and he did everything for a purpose. And now, at this very moment, he has sent me to you. Who are you, Bellos? ”

"As you can see, I am his flag bearer." Bellos replied.

"Is that all?"

"What else do you want to know?" The flag bearer asked slyly. "Do these things help us in what we are going to do right now?"

"It seems to me that the reason why you asked me this question was just because I felt overwhelmed, and I wasn't wrong, right? You want to know my past experiences, and deduce from them why the Emperor sent you to me—but how could we be standing here if he really did everything he thought twice and thought through? ”

St. Giles looked at the mortal who dared to make fun of his father with a slight astonishment.

"Look at those people, they don't understand what this flag in my hand represents, and they don't know if we can win, but they are still willing to fight for him. We really have only one purpose, Lord St. Giles, to find him and protect him from the hands of that thing. ”

"But."

"yes, I know we probably won't be able to use it in that level of combat." Bellos laughed. "But to do and not to do are two different concepts."

"You are accustomed to think of him as a great man who can do anything, but I will tell you that St. Giles, he is not omnipotent, and he is by no means truly without blood and tears."

"On the contrary, he is kinder than everybody and cares more than everybody. So, now is probably the time when he needs us the most. He doesn't need us to help him win that battle, he just needs us behind him. ”

He drew the flag from St. Giles' hand and hoisted it.

"Can you still fly?" He asked.

St. Giles resisted the urge to smile and nodded slowly. A few seconds later, he flapped his wings and took off, bursts of golden light slowly shining from among his feathers, making him look like a shooting star.

He flew slowly, not even a third as fast as before, but that still didn't stop him from flying in front of everyone—the archangel only then realized that so many people had gathered under that banner.

However, I don't know if his eyesight has not yet recovered, and he can only see a blurry silhouette. They were screaming and running forward, towards a faint cloud of golden light that had been eaten up by the scarlet

St. Giles looked at it with a completely determined look in his eyes.

Even now, he didn't understand how that prophecy would come true, but he didn't care anymore, just as he didn't care if Horus Lupecar was still himself.

For him, the brother he knew was long dead. Now all that's left is just another enemy.

He took a deep breath, buried his head, his wings vibrating, and he flew headlong towards the point of light.

——

Casidorius looked up slowly.

The earth was parched and full of dust, and even the stones were covered with cracked lines. The sky was dark and gloomy, like a ghostly lair full of dead souls. The only light he could see here was the eyes of the man tied to the stone tablet.

He was staring down at him.

His shadow completely enveloped Casidorius.

"What else do you have to do, father?"

Casidorius heard it again, but he didn't dare look back. He had lost that courage, because Horus Lupecar no longer hid himself.

At this moment, in his voice, the earth of the wasteland was trembling. Casidorius lowered his head and stared at the ground, noticing that there were dense eyes blinking in the cracks, staring at him tightly.

The man tied to the stone tablet exhaled slowly, and he finally spoke, but not to Horus.

"Don't be afraid, Cassitorius." His voice was low and weak, like a dying man. "He's just an illusory form here, and what you can see is just part of a malevolent metaphor, not real. He can't hurt you unless he kills me first. ”

"Oh, really, father? Is that really the case? Horus asked.

He stepped forward and grabbed Casidorius' shoulder with a hand as cold as steel, a deep chill that made the messenger wince.

But what really frightened him was not the unreal touch, but the scent of Horus—he was so close to him that Casidorius could even smell him.

It didn't even smell like a good thing to describe, and he felt like the air he had inhaled in his lungs had turned into hundreds of dry hands, greedily scratching at his flesh and thirst for blood and soul. Casidorius buried his head deeply and began to tremble.

Horus pressed him to the ground at this moment, and the force was impossible to disobey. Casidorius's face was covered with dust, and his eyes were wandering around in confusion, and they happened to match the cracked lines. Thousands of eyes in it suddenly changed color, yellow and clear, like lanterns.

Horus spoke again, his voice becoming inhuman and powerful, and he picked Casidorius up and slammed it to the ground again. In the pain of almost displacement, the messenger shrunk and shivered.

"Do you really think so? Father? I can't hurt this stupid, weak, and small mortal? Horus looked at him, looked up, and asked coldly.

"Yes, that's what I thought." The man on the stele replied calmly. "And he is not weak."

Horus let go of his hand, letting the bloodied Casidorius curl up and crawl into his father's shadow, smiling mockingly.

"So, how long can you hold out? I've ruined a million of your tricks, eating all the bait you've left behind along the way. You can waste my time, but that comes at a price. Now, how much strength do you have left to maintain this illusory realm that protects their souls and sanity? ”

The man finally raised his head slowly, his skin was tight, like tanned leather, and his cheeks were sunken, almost to the point of skin. There was a faint golden light in his eyes, and there was no kindness in his eyes, no mercy, only calm.

"What do you think you are?" He asked in a flat tone.

"My son, Horus Lupecar, died a long time ago, and his sacrifice allowed his brothers to escape and his loyal heirs to continue. He never really gave in, and his humanity always had a struggle. ”

"And you're nothing more than a fabricated side, your self-consciousness forged only from the dregs of his death. You're not my son, but just one. Monster. ”

"Your lies can't shake me, I know what I am, and I still have humanity." Horus sneered unmoved. He looked up at the gloomy sky.

A beam of meteors slowly streaked across the sky at this moment, slowly approaching them. The light was faint, but it could still illuminate the surroundings.

Horus's eyes suddenly turned into two pitch-black hollows, and his eyes began to roll wildly, tracking the meteor closely. After a moment, he lowered his head and turned his attention back to the man.

"So that's your last resort?" He stared at the man with contempt. "I know what you want to do, father. Don't forget, like you, I saw the prophecies with the power of Chaos. ”

"Like St. Giles, he saw it, but he was so naïve, he thought that he could turn the tide and give you victory by accepting the doomed death—but how could I really kill him?"

He raised his hand, and there was a sudden thunderclap in the sky. The clouds converged to form a terrifying giant hand, which was about to completely envelop the meteor. The man likewise raised his head and looked at the sky.

He clenched his teeth, and a murderous intent suddenly appeared on his thin face.

Horus immediately looked over with a sense of emotion, and a dazzling golden light flashed before his eyes, almost brushing his face. He narrowed his eyes and gloomily raised his hand to touch his cheek.

He saw a bolt of lightning that slashed into the sky without hesitation.

"You wicked false father!" He cursed. "He can only fulfill that prophecy if he is killed by me, and you can actually do this!"

The man did not answer, his head drooped, and his breathing gradually weakened.

Horus shook his head disdainfully: "You have been so hard to keep, and the last bit of power you have left is used by you in such a repugnant place?" Very good, father, very good. ”

With a bang, the dust was flying. Casidorius shuddered, looked back in disbelief, and found that Horus had disappeared, only the sound was still spreading in place.

"So, let's switch roles, and this time I'll save him."

Casidorius's thoughts began to boil - what the hell was going on? What did the emperor do? Where did Horus go?

However, all the problems were reduced to nothingness in front of the emperor who hung his head down. The messenger, who had been absorbed by fear not long ago, gritted his teeth and stood up when he saw that lifeless face.

His intellect no longer supports him to think using a full chain of logic, but that's fine, then just abandon thinking.

He approached the man who was being tied to the stele, carefully raised his hand, and began to try to untie the rough ropes. However, he had barely put his fingers on when he felt a terrible pain in his fingertips.

Casidorius let out a cry of pain and looked down, only to see that the ropes had somehow turned into pitch-black vipers one after another. Their eyes were scarlet, and they were spitting snake letters, staring at him maliciously.

Casidorius was shocked.

+ Of course he will not leave so easily.+

At that moment, a voice burst into his heart. It is very weak, very tiny. If it weren't for the silence of the wasteland, Casidorius probably wouldn't have noticed it at all. However, he heard it, and he was overjoyed, and his eyes immediately filled with tears.

"My lord!" His voice called out in mournful voice. "What can I do to get you free?!"

+ You can't save me, Casidorius, but you've done part of your mission. You have arrived here and created a condition for me to use deception.+

When a man opens his eyes, what kind of eyes are they? Casidorius didn't see the slightest emotion in it, everything was gone, and nothing was left but pure nothingness and extreme calm.

"Deception, deception?" The messenger stammered. "I don't understand, my lord."

+ He is paranoid that everything I do is just out of ambition and lies, and I don't want to change his mind. +

+ He is not my son, and he does not deserve this respect. But I'm going to take advantage of his contempt and that twisted humanity, as I've always been, good at using everything. +

+ His mind must briefly leave this illusion and return to the material universe in order to accomplish what he has said. This gives us an opportunity, Casidorius. +

The man tilted his head, closed his eyes, and leaned against the dark stone tablet. His chest still didn't heave, his white linen robe hung over his thin body, everything was so withered, fragile, unbelievable.

Where is this like a deity?

The messenger involuntarily wept again, he didn't want to be so weak, but he really grieved for him.

"But I am not God, my messenger." The man's eyes were tightly closed, and he spoke, making a real sound.

You have to remember that God cannot achieve any victory, they are a bunch of selfish beings who have no such basic concept in their eyes. Only humans will fight desperately for something, and only humans will know what sacrifice is."

He finally opened his eyes again, and a gurgling sound came out of his throat. His face tensed, his veins bulging horribly from beneath his swarthy face, and his teeth began to crack

Casidorius could hear more, for example, some kind of overwhelming sound coming from within him.

The voice made him feel frightened and panicked—could the emperor no longer be able to sustain himself? Don't

Instinctively, he threw himself and fell at his feet, trying to lift him up. Of course, this didn't do much, but Casidorius saw more in it.

Like two drops of blood.

Two drops of blood that had been preserved with all their might remained to the last in this withered body. They flowed like tears from the man's eyes, slid down his cheeks, dripped down his chin, and fell to Casidorius' chest.

The golden light is in full bloom and brilliant.

Casidorius jerked to his feet.

He finally remembered, how could he forget? What is he doing for ten thousand years and sinking in madness for so long?

He lowered his head, his hands trembling at his breastplate. Judging by the stance, he probably wanted to take the gem out of his armor with his bare hands. He failed as a matter of course, and the suit was designed without the wearer taking out the gems themselves.

Casidorius's movements gradually stopped, and he looked up in vague despair, wanting to ask a question, but could not say a word.

The man looked at him and didn't say a word, just smiled.

The light continued to bloom as if burning. Casidorius bowed his head in confusion and anxiety, wanting to try again and see if he could untie his breastplate. He didn't get his way, because he didn't even touch his breastplate.

His fingers turned into illusions, sinking deep into his breastplate. He was stunned, and then ecstasy, and there was a burst of heat from the tips of his fingers, which did not bring the slightest tingling, only endless light and heat, warm as the warm sun of winter.

Casidorius trembled and wept as he approached the man and raised his right hand, golden light streaming from his fingers.

The man shook his head, "It's not for me, Casidorius. ”

"It's for me." Another man said.

Casidorius turned around and saw an old man in a crumpled, dirty dark green military uniform. His temples were gray, and he looked extremely tired. His boots were covered in blood and he carried a gun in one hand.

Behind him stood a forbidden soldier, every line on his armor had been completely blurred, and thick ashes were stuck in the gaps in the armor, except for the spear he held in his left hand.

"Who are you?" Casidorius asked.

"Just like you, a messenger." Ur Pesson replied.

He lowered his head and fished out a gem from his military uniform. It rests on a rough metal base, the base itself is long mottled, but the gem is still bright and radiating a bright white glow. He dropped his gun and held out his left hand towards Casidorius.

"Come on." Orr said, not noticing that he was smiling. "It's time."

After a second, the two gems merge into one.

After another second, the parched earth began to recover rapidly.

The stones healed, the dust turned into mud, and the seeds of plants that had long been extinct suddenly appeared in them, fell into them, and grew rapidly. Trees, grass, blue sky, white clouds. A river meandered past their feet, and the stele crumbled and turned into powder.

The viper spat out a letter and tried to flee into the meadow, but was pierced and killed by spear after spear.

The man fell to his knees weakly and propped himself up with his hands.

Casidorius held his breath and looked at him bewildered, not knowing what to do next, until the dirty veteran tapped him on the shoulder with his palm.

He handed over a gem.

"It's time, Courier." Orr swept exhaustion away from his face, his eyes clear. "Go and give it to him."

Casidorius held the gem in his hands and walked to the emperor with tears in his eyes.

——

St. Giles pierced the darkness with his wings and flew forward. Closely, closely, he could touch the light. It was the only piece of good news in a long time, but the angel didn't breathe a sigh of relief.

He was so close to his goal, but he still didn't know how he could help a battle that had become too abstract. However, he had to help his father.

Even if the matter is considered from a utilitarian point of view without considering any emotion, the emperor must live. He is the founder of the empire, the only one qualified to call himself emperor. He is also the spiritual pillar of countless people, a being far beyond any symbol.

It is He who leads humanity back to unity, who clears away all darkness so that the light can appear in those wild worlds, so that humanity will no longer have to suffer from the suffering of the old night.

St. Giles knew that his father had bloody hands, but his father was also the greatest hero in the world.

It's close, it's close. It was only one last moment before he could touch the light—St. Giles gritted his teeth and stretched out his right hand, his fingertips almost touching it.

However, at this moment, a terrifying force descended from above his head and pressed him to the ground. The angel fell, and in the midst of the intense pain, he saw a flash of golden lightning rush out of the ball of light, slashing at the ghosts.

and, the face of Horus Lupecar, illuminated by the golden light.

Horus looked down at him coldly.

There was a blood-red crack behind him that hadn't healed, and he probably came out of it. The crevices continued to pour out of the cracks, sticky darkness like living creatures, and they drifted like steam to the ceiling of the royal court, merging with the other darkness.

"Don't forget, I saved you, brother." He spoke slowly. "You may not understand what I'm saying, and you won't believe what I'm saying, but you just have to remember it, St. Giles."

"Our father tried to kill you to get the last glimmer of hope for his plan, you should have died, I saved you. I don't ask you to give me anything in return, I have only one request for you. ”

Coughing up blood, St. Giles instinctively tried to get up and away from the crazy monster, only to feel a sharp pain coming from both ends of his back.

Horus smiled.

"I broke your wings so you could never fly again." He said emotionlessly. "The sky is not a place for human beings to touch, stay on the ground and keep your feet on the ground"

He frowned suddenly.

St. Giles gasped and slowly got up. He turned his head to look at the Spear of Completion, which had fallen from the impact of the fall, and there was no way to bend down to pick it up—or maybe face it with both hands.

The angel pressed his twisted, trembling fingers against his chest and began to try to wrench them into fists.

Horus may have just broken his wings as he said he would, but the impact that sent him tumbling had broken something else as well. For example, some of his bones, his fingers, and his internal organs that are bleeding internally.

Two seconds later, St. Giles slowly raised his fists.

Frankly, the action reminded him of the demon.

Horus glanced at him, his brow furrowing more and more, "I've said many times that I'm not hostile to you, brother. I don't want to kill you, it's not good for either of you or me. Why don't you just stay quiet for a while and let me finish everything? ”

"Who are you going to solve?" The angel asked softly.

"Who else?" Horus asked rhetorically. "Who else do you think there is?"

The angel gasped, then laughed, revealing a mouth full of blood.

"You-"

He couldn't finish his sentence, and his words were interrupted because Horus Lupecar was in a sudden rage. His form became a surging darkness, huge and frenzied, corpses rising and falling, gurgling.

A pure fear rose in the heart of St. Giles, but this was not the end, far from it.

The dark rage was so real that it sent out a shock that transcended the realm of hearing, and the curtain between reality and illusion began to fluctuate violently.

St. Giles bore the brunt of the blow and was knocked out with a heavy blow. He had no power to resist, and the force carried him to the deepest part of the royal court, to a place where no one had set foot.

There was only darkness here, but it didn't quite look like what a royal court should be. There are portholes, there are corridors, and even the Milky Way outside the portholes is still slowly burning

St. Giles fell to the ground.

He didn't know what the pain was anymore, his spirit was dying, and there was probably nothing he could do to heal them this time. The blood flowed beneath him, forming a river. He is on his deathbed, and will always be on this deathbed.

Horus was reluctant to kill him, but he was probably angered by the angel's attitude, and this was the punishment that the angel would face.

In the deepest depths of the consciousness that was about to shatter, St. Giles could understand it. He doesn't grieve for himself or worry about what might happen to him in the future. In fact, he worries about others.

He feared his brothers, and everyone who was fighting in that terrible court. He also worries about the future of humanity, the future of the empire, his heirs. Azcaron, Amit

Names crossed his mind, which was gradually sinking into darkness, and his vision began to drift and blur, and little by little everything became the vortex he had seen. St. Giles was not afraid, he desperately hung his breath and opened his mouth, and there was a constant sound of ho-ho in his throat.

Little by little, he spat out a word.

"Father."

Then, a man stood in front of him.

He was certainly not his father, he was a different kind of being.

His armor was as hideous as a bone, and his whole body was pitch black, and he was no longer a little white. Flames of rage wrapped around it, burning with unprecedented intensity. The raging fury was impossible to see without eyes, and the skeletal face that obscured the face became even more terrifying than before, and every detail was filled with infinite resentment.

The darkness under his feet was wailing and retreating. But with nowhere to run, the fury pursued them, and burned them all to pieces, burning them all to something paler than ashes.

"St. Giles." The being spoke softly. "I will avenge you."

(End of chapter)