LOCATION: ASHVALE SANCTUM
The bells of Ashvale did not ring.
Not for the dead.
Not for the damned.
Certainly not for the boy who returned from the altar.
What stirred instead was silence—haunting, reverent, wrong. A kind of quiet that told stories without words. Of footsteps in blood. Of gods who looked away.
Whispers slithered through the Order's inner halls. Priests locking doors that once stood open. Inquisitors clutching their relics tighter. Senior Seers weeping quietly into their robes as if the omens finally made sense.
Because he was back.
Because Thalos Verin—the Father of Blades, the Warden of the Flame, the man who could make kings kneel—was dead.
Not in battle. Not in glory.
But broken.
By him.
Lucan Malryk.
Now? They didn't whisper his name.
They choked on it—
like ash and blood,
like guilt they couldn't spit out fast enough.
---
Taren Solt had always believed in the Rite.
He had chanted the prayers. Studied the flame-texts. Watched the chosen be cleansed with reverence in his eyes and iron in his soul.
But nothing in the scriptures had prepared him for what he saw in the Hall of Ascendants.
Lucan Malryk.
Alive.
No, not alive.
Returned.
Taren had hidden. Cowardice wrapped in silence. He was still gripping the edge of a cracked statue when it ended—when the screams stopped and all that remained was Lucan's quiet breath and the ruin he'd left behind.
Alon, Mirell, Jeris… all gone. So fast. So easily.
Taren didn't cry.
He just shook.
Lucan hadn't even looked at him.
Didn't need to.
It was like standing in the presence of a god's mistake.
And then Lucan walked on. No words. No mercy. No hesitation.
Straight toward the Sanctum's inner chambers.
---
Taren didn't stop running until the screams faded, until the stench of blood gave way to stone dust and rot.
He shouldn't have gone to the Crypthold—no one did.
It was where they buried the fallen Ascendants, the ones who died in failure or disgrace. The walls whispered old names and unfinished prayers. The air hung heavy with judgment.
But it was the only place far enough from him.
From Lucan.
And still... Taren swore he heard footsteps in the dark.
He didn't stop until the sanctum's torches turned blue and cold.
His lungs burned. His legs trembled. But still he ran—past empty shrines, through sealed archways, until he reached the obsidian steps leading to the High Seer's Cloister.
Two paladins stood at the door.
They moved to bar his path, but the look in his eyes stopped them cold.
"He's back," Taren gasped. "Lucan. He killed them all."
The doors opened before he could be announced.
---
INSIDE — MOTHER HALIX'S CHAMBER
The room was dark.
No fire. No incense. Just a single flickering glyph on the wall—pulsing softly like a heartbeat.
Mother Halix stood near the window, her back turned, hands folded behind her robe. She didn't move as Taren entered.
Didn't speak.
Didn't breathe, it seemed.
"I saw him," Taren whispered. "He came through the training ring. Thalos is dead. The others too. He didn't bleed. He didn't blink. He just... walked through them."
Still silence.
Then: "Describe him."
Taren blinked, startled. "W-what?"
Halix turned, slowly.
"Describe the boy we burned."
Taren swallowed. "White hair. Black veins. His eyes were—dead suns. And the system—it followed him. It spoke."
A pause.
Then Halix crossed the room in three steps and placed a hand over the glyph. It flared crimson.
[Order Code: BINDING DECREE 77]
[Subject: Lucan Malryk]
[Status: DECEASED — ERROR]
[Override? Y/N]
[Y]
[Confirmed. Status: ACTIVE — ROGUE ENTITY]
[Judgement Protocol Initiated]
The room darkened as the system updated.
[New Classification: Apostate]
[Threat Level: EXTINCTION]
[Target Status: KILL ON SIGHT]
Halix looked back at Taren, eyes like glass over a frozen lake.
"Alert the High Council. Summon every Inquisitor. And burn every record of his name from the archives. If Lucan Malryk walks this world again…"
She stepped to her altar, removed the final lock on her reliquary.
"…then the gods themselves must learn to fear."
System Broadcast – Global Bounty Alert
[UNIVERSAL ORDER ALERT — CLASSIFIED SYSTEM OVERRIDE]
[Subject: Lucan Malryk]
[Alias: The Apostate / Ritebreaker]
[Threat Level: BLACK SUN — EXTINCTION]
[Status: KILL ON SIGHT]
[Confirmed Sin Kill: Thalos Verin]
[System Corruption Level: IRREPARABLE]
[Villain Tier: Ascending]
[Bounty Issued: 1,000,000 Soulmarks + Path Authority]
[Bonus Reward: Artifact of Purity / Seat on the High Flame Council]
[Tracking Priority: Absolute]
[System-wide message delivered to all bonded users within divine jurisdiction.]
Across cities, temples, hideouts, and broken ruins—the broadcast slammed into minds like a sword through parchment.
Lucan's name now sat on every altar like a desecration. He wasn't just wanted.
He was sacred prey.
---
LOCATION: ASHVALE RUINED BELL TOWER
Lucan sat alone in a ruined bell tower, overlooking the shattered skyline of Ashvale. The wind howled through the broken panes. The system's ping echoed in his skull like a warning bell.
[You have been ṁ̷̼̏a̶̙͋r̴͈͂k̴͕͌e̶̋͜d̴̡̑ by the D̵̟͌͘i̷̛̘͐v̴̛̯̎í̴̲n̶͚͠e̶̙̐̾ Network.]
[Bounty Set: 1,000,000 S̶̳̓̏o̴̹͑u̶̥͐l̵̗̕m̸̥̔a̶͍͘r̶͚͋k̷͕̐s̷̘̅]
[Note: Expect ē̷͎s̴̪̾c̶̖͒ḁ̷̃l̷̳̍a̸̛̬t̴͇̃i̷̖̕o̴̰̚n̴̟̐. Loyalty f̵͕̍r̷̖͌ą̵̓c̴͙̅ẗ̴̪u̷̙͝r̶͍͘e̴̛̜s̵̯͑. Paths n̴̲̈́a̶͓̅r̸̥̒r̷̖̅ö̷͖́w̶̺͑.]
Lucan's jaw tightened.
"Let them come," he muttered.
Then—
A new ping.
But this one was different. Hidden. Quiet.
[Encrypted System Message — Unsigned]
["Not all of us have forgotten what they did to you."]
["Don't return to the old shrine tonight. It's a trap."]
["Head east—toward the Chainspire Ruins. I'll find you there."]
LOCATION: CHAINSPIRE RUINS
Lucan arrived at the Chainspire just before midnight.
Jagged pillars of obsidian stabbed the sky like broken ribs. Moonlight painted the ruins silver, but the shadows moved wrong—slow, deliberate, like something breathing.
The place felt... familiar.
[Location Confirmed: Chainspire Ruins]
[Memory Trace... F̶r̷̲̀a̸̲̋g̸͚̾m̷͎͂e̸͓̾n̶̞͒t̷̨̅e̵͓͐d̷͎̿]
[Emotional R̶̦̓e̶͖̐s̴̳̕i̶̛͈d̸̡͂ȕ̸ͅȇ̸͙: H̴͔͗I̸̞̚G̸̦͂H̶̩͛]
[Sin Stability: F̵͈͌l̴̡̊u̸̲̅c̵͉̓t̷̨͒u̶̖͝ȁ̵̟t̷̛̬i̴̳͘ñ̵̨ǵ̴͍...̶̞̒]
Lucan stepped into the center of the shattered hall. Cold wind brushed past him, carrying the scent of—
"Lucan."
He froze.
The voice was soft. Sad. Woven with memory.
He turned.
Aelira.
Dressed in the robes of old. Hair like molten dusk. Eyes that once looked at him like he was more than a tool.
She smiled—bittersweet and tired. "You came."
His heart skipped.
[WARNING: Presence Detected — Aelira Varn]
[Sin Stability Decreasing…]
[Emotional Influence: SEVERE]
[LOVE detected — initiating countermeasure… FAIL]
[W̷̛̗̖͇̟͠A̶̼̞͈͚͐̽͌̇̄͗͋͑R̸͇͇͝N̷̹̩͎̍̀͒̍͛͆͝͝͝I̸̖̠̿͝͝Ǹ̴̛̜̙̋̄G̵̩͖̬̾͐͑]
Lucan hesitated. "You… sent the message?"
Aelira nodded, stepping forward into the pale moonlight. "I shouldn't have. I knew it was dangerous. I knew… what you'd become."
Her eyes shimmered—not with power, but with something worse. Regret.
"But I had to see you. Just once more."
Lucan's breath caught. The wind shifted, stirring his white hair.
"You believed them," he said, quietly. "All of them. The priests. Thalos. The Rite."
"I didn't want to." Her voice cracked. "Lucan, I—I tried to stop them that night. You think I didn't scream when they put you on that altar? I fought. I begged."
"Then why didn't you bleed with me?" His tone wasn't cruel. Just hollow.
Aelira's hands trembled. She reached for him, fingers brushing his cheek.
"You don't know what it's like to be powerless in a holy war," she whispered. "They made me choose—my oath or you."
Lucan's eyes closed briefly. "And you chose the gods."
"No," she said softly. "I chose to live with it. I've never known a day since where I didn't wish I had taken your place."
[System Alert: Sin R̴̦̹͛̄e̷̯̓͝ŝ̷̰̒e̷̱̾͆r̶̻̋v̴͖͠o̶͙͘i̴̛̩r̷͚̓̽ Dropping...]
[Love Signal Detected — Priority C̷̙͐͒o̶͈̿́n̸͚̅́f̷̟͋͝l̵̜̈́͂i̷̞̽c̶͇͘t̷̻͌͛ Engaged]
[WARNING: TARGET IS AELIRA VARN — Threat U̴̡̇n̷͍̄̕c̶̩̅̚e̸͋͜r̶͖̔t̶̻̋i̷̟͘f̶͕̚i̷̖̕ē̷̙d̴͓̐]
[S̷͎͝y̵̡̎͠s̵̪̐̽t̵̰͌e̵̳̿̓m̴̠̎̚ ̸̯̾R̸͐͜e̸̙̒s̷͈͝p̶͇̓o̶̯̐n̴̹͌s̶̨̚e̷͔̐ ̷̠̾S̶̖͠ū̶̙p̴̪̔p̶͈̏r̵̙̾e̷̡̓s̶͈̎s̸̬̈́e̴̹̅d̷͙͋...]
Lucan almost reached for her hand.
"I never hated you," he said. "Even when I came back… I thought if anyone still had a soul in that place—"
Aelira looked down.
"I do, Lucan."
She stepped closer. Pressed her forehead to his.
A moment of stillness. Of warmth. The kind that makes hope ache.
"I do," she repeated. "And that's why…"
---
Then—
The click of boots behind him.
The shifting of steel.
The whisper of spell-runes being activated.
Lucan's system flickered—then screamed.
[T̶̞̈́R̷͑ͅA̷̟͝P̴̢͝ ̴̺͗D̷͈̿E̶͇͂T̵͇͝Ę̶͝C̸̞̓T̴̩̏E̶̗̿D̶͕͗]
[Aelira Varn: FALSE ALLY]
[System Ḭ̴̄n̴͓̈́t̷̏͜e̸̛͈g̷̛̳r̴̲̈́i̶͖̅t̴̗͐y̶̲̓ Ć̷̝o̴͕̐m̷̘̽p̵̻̓r̷̼̄o̶͙̐m̵͓̅ì̶̼s̶̨̕e̵͔͝ḏ̶̀]
[Ambush Im̶̘̏m̵͚̈́i̶̘̋n̶͕͑e̶̳̽n̴̰͋t̸̘͌ — M̴̡̚O̴̩̔V̶͕͋É̵̖!̷̤̿]
He turned just in time to see her back away—tears in her eyes, but no guilt in her voice.
"I'm sorry, Lucan. You should've stayed dead."
Figures closed in from all sides—Paladins, Inquisitors, a Warden-class Knight in full flamebound armor.
The sky lit up as suppression wards locked into place.
Lucan surged to his feet, power roaring—
But the sin was weakening.
The love had made him fragile.
And just as the first blade pierced his side—he fell.
He Hits the Ground.
His vision swam.
Aelira stood above him, whispering a silent prayer. "I loved you once. I did. But the gods come first."
[System S̴̘͊ẖ̶̓u̶̞̽t̷̞͝d̴͖̓o̸̺̿w̶͍̿n̷̻̓ in 3… 2…]
---
Then—SILENCE.
A wind tore through the ruin.
A spear of pure voidsteel slammed into the Warden's chest—pinned him to the ground like a butterfly through parchment.
Someone landed beside Lucan in a swirl of black and silver.
Not armor. Not priestly garb.
Robes—layered and tactical. Reinforced at the joints, runed in forbidden thread, and cinched like a reaper's warcoat.
Beneath them, obsidian-plated boots cracked the stone with every step—quiet power, tightly leashed.
She didn't speak.
Didn't need to.
An Inquisitor blinked—and was split down the center.
The next screamed, spell forming—
Her boot was already on his throat. She didn't even glance down as she caved it in with a twist.
Lucan watched, stunned, as she moved through the ambushers with surgical precision. No wasted motion. No emotion.
Not rage. Not vengeance. Just death.
Two more charged.
They didn't reach her.
Not even close.
Her cloak snapped once—and their bones collapsed inward like dried leaves.
She turned to Lucan, her hood still shadowing her face, blood mist rising around her like incense.
Still no words.
Only the faint growl of something else beneath her presence. Something his corrupted system didn't recognize—
[WARNING: Entity D̸͔́e̵͇͝t̶̥̅e̷͍̚c̸̼̄t̷͎̔e̷̯̓d̶͔̾]
[Threat Level: U̸̦̓N̷̯͑C̶͚̔L̵͔̋A̶̡̎S̸͖̈S̵̲͠I̸͈͘F̶̙́I̸̻͝Ë̷́͜D̴̯͛]
[Power Signature: B̶̨̐E̸̲͘Y̷̲̽O̸̢̐N̵͈̿D̴͓̕ ̶̪̍P̸͔̍O̶̙͠S̴͈͑T̶̖̍-̷̞̅R̴̞̒I̷̹̓T̷̹̍E̸͔͠ Structure]
[Recommendation: D̶̤́O̶͖͋.̷̛̞ ̴͚̽N̴͍͑O̶͜͝T̴̨̛.̵̚͜ ̸̢̈́Ë̶̜́N̷̹͘G̷͇̋Ȃ̷͕Ǵ̸̹E̶̦͑.]
Lucan's breath trembled.
She raised one gloved hand. A portal of living shadow ripped open behind her—its edges crackling with rune-teeth, gnashing hungrily at the air.
Then—finally—she spoke.
Her voice was calm. Low. Command without cruelty.
"Get up. You still owe the world your wrath."
Then she turned and stepped into the dark.
Lucan staggered, bleeding and broken, but followed.
And the world behind them was left to rot.
[Author's Thoughts]
Some names aren't whispered. They're carved into the world with blood and regret."
Lucan's path isn't paved in glory—it's paved in silence, in love betrayed, in gods who play judge and executioner with trembling hands. This chapter hurt to write, in the best way. Because sometimes, it's not the blade that cuts deepest—it's the voice that says "I loved you" right before it leaves you to die.
But make no mistake… this is not the end. This is where vengeance stops pretending it's justice.
To those who knelt at the altar, who watched him burn—
You lit the flame.
Now burn with it.
—
Thank you for reading. Comment below if your soul's still intact. 🖤
#Sinbound #VillainEra