While I was deep in conversation with Ricardo from Silver Quill Press, the door swung open with a clang. A man stepped into the room, clad in white and blue plate armor. A golden, winged emblem shimmered on his chest plate, and a long blue cape flowed behind him like a river of silk. He wasn't just any knight—he was Captain Richardson of Heavenport.
"There you are, Mr. Ricardo," the captain said, his voice stern but not without familiarity. "You move quickly. You know that?"
"Apologies, Captain," Ricardo replied, catching his breath. "When Taron told me about a boy who faced a spider and lived, I couldn't stay put. My feet took off before I could think."
The captain's sharp gaze shifted to me. "Mister Rio told me to keep you safe. But you make that hard when you run off chasing stories. Next time, tell me before you disappear."
Ricardo gave him a sheepish grin. "I'll remember that next time."
"Anyway," the captain continued, his tone all business, "are you finished here? We're mobilizing. The attack on the spider starts soon."
"Galya said they'd attack tonight," I muttered to myself. "She lied again. That lying bitch."
Ricardo nodded. "Yes, I'm done here. We can go."
But before they could reach the door, I raised my voice. "Wait! Don't leave yet—I have more to tell you."
Both men turned, eyes on me. Ricardo gestured slightly, permitting me to speak.
"Make it quick," the captain barked. "We don't have time for games."
"It's a long story," I said, stepping forward. "Maybe we can talk on the way. Besides, good job surviving, Ume. Maybe we can help them now."
"We're going to fight a giant spider," Ricardo said.
I nodded. "I survived that spider. And someone else, our friend, is still out there. We need to go back for them."
"They're dead," Captain Richardson replied flatly. "I told you before."
I met his cold stare. "You remember me, Captain?"
His jaw tensed. "So what?"
"So," I said, my voice rising with conviction, "we survived that spider. That means you need us."
"I need no one!" he snapped.
Ricardo stepped in. "Then come with us. But you'll have to promise me something: you'll answer my question honestly."
"I'm sure the captain will keep us safe," Ricardo added with a faint smile, trying to ease the tension.
"You can't be serious," I muttered under my breath.
The captain didn't respond. Instead, he turned and walked out the door. "Follow me," he commanded, not even looking back.
Outside the safe zone, the scene was already unfolding. Sir Alden stood at the front, flanked by four knights. Behind each of them stood two more, and behind those two, five more still disciplined rows of Heavenport's finest. Wagons loaded with gear and weapons were positioned between each column.
Captain Richardson might not command Ricardo's respect, but among his men, there was no question—he was feared, and he was obeyed.
It is a cold, dark cave. No wind. No threat. Just men standing shoulder to shoulder, Swords at their sides. Waiting.
Captain Richardson steps forward. His voice is low, but clear as steel.
"When we reached Rosalie… it was under siege by spiders, now spiders are under our siege ."
Buildings crushed. Streets broken. Fire and screams in the air."
"Most of it was already gone."
"We charged in anyway."
"We lost good men. You watched them fall beside you. You stepped over their bodies to keep going. You killed until your arms went numb."
"And by the end… There was barely anyone left to save."
(He lets that truth hang in the air.)
"I don't speak these words to wound you. I speak to them because we carry them now. All of us."
(He draws his sword and holds it down at his side.)
"We carry the memory. We carry the rage. And thanks to the Aetherforge Consortium, we now carry the Concubines."
(A pause. No explanation needed. They all know.)
"This time, we're not arriving to mourn."
"This time, we're not walking into ashes."
"This time… we are the fire."
(He raises his sword slightly—not high, just enough to draw their eyes.)
"General Jabari believes in us. Heavenport is waiting. And those monsters… those things that tore Rosalie apart…"
(A growl behind the words now.)
"They will learn what it means to face knights who remember."
(He places a fist firmly to his chest.)
"For Rosalie."
(All respond, fists to chests in unison:)
"For Rosalie!"
"For Heavenport!"
"For Heavenport!"
"For Jabari!"
"For Jabari!"
(Captain Richardson lowers his sword again, calm but unshaken.)
"And if any of us fall… let it be with our swords drawn, and our purpose fulfilled."
"Burn them all."
Captain Richardson's voice rang out like iron against stone, cold and absolute. The command cracked the still air, and the assembled knights obeyed without hesitation.
Row by row, they turned toward the wagons behind them. With practiced hands, they pulled back the heavy canvas coverings, revealing what lay hidden beneath.
Inside, bodies were pressed tightly together—women with porcelain-pale skin, red ponytails cascading down their shoulders, and blank, emotionless expressions behind smooth, masked faces. These were the Concubines.
Their silence was haunting.
Each one stood upright, unmoving, as if held in suspension—, aiting. They weren't machines, but something stranger: living, yet altered. Twisted into tools of war. Their beauty had been sharpened into something weaponized. The air around them carried a faint floral scent, artificial and unnerving.
Sir Alden stepped forward first, followed by the front line of knights. Each approached a Concubine and began the ritual of activation. On the left shoulder of each woman, the golden winged emblem of Heavenport gleamed faintly, catching the last light of the day.
Then came the moment I hadn't seen before.
Two Concubines were brought before Captain Richardson taller, more elegant than the others. Their heads were bowed, their bodies still, obedient.
Without a word, the captain knelt slightly and reached between the legs of the first Concubine. His gloved fingers slid into a narrow, intimate opening between her thighs, a place where flesh was altered not for pleasure but for control. The contact was clinical, precise.
Link establishes that both said at the same time.
The Concubine's eyes flared to life, glowing a deep, blood-red. Her body tensed, like something waking from a long sleep.
He repeated the motion with the second. As his fingers withdrew, I saw it on his Middle finger on both hands, a silver ring etched with runes, faintly pulsing with crimson light. It hadn't been there before, or maybe it had been dormant.
The two women stood straighter, their chests rising in unison as if they'd just drawn breath for the first time. Their heads tilted slightly toward him, awaiting command.
The rest of the knights followed suit, activating their Concubines in grim silence.
This was not affection. It was a soldier sharpening his sword.
One by one, the knights and their Concubines marched toward the spider's cave, their boots hitting the earth in unison. No songs, no cheers—just grim silence and the red glow of dozens of awakened eyes cutting through the dusk.
Captain Richardson didn't look back. Behind him, the rows of women followed, their movements smooth and eerily graceful, like shadows given form.
It was a cleansing.
This was a crusade.