Chapter 454: Godblood
Side by side, Asher walked the cobbled path toward the castle gardens, Sapphira beside him, and their twin sons toddling ahead—plucking flowers, giggling, and occasionally glancing back to make sure their parents were still following.
Because of them, the pace was slow, almost reverent. But neither of them minded.
“I can see sothing’s troubling you,” Asher said, squinting slightly in the pale morning light. “What is it?”
Sapphira exhaled, her breath visible in the unseasonal chill. “They’re coming. I can feel it… their presence grows stronger with each passing month.”
Asher glanced up at the silvered sky. “It’s only the eleventh month, yet the snow’s already falling. It doesn’t usually start until halfway through the twelfth.”
Sapphira nodded solemnly. “A sign. A warning.”
She paused, her eyes drifting toward the distant mountains. “Did you know the abyss race once ruled this continent? They were its first children—born long before humans or elves or dwarves ever set foot here.”
Asher turned to her, startled. “I thought they were ford from the abyss force.”
She shook her head. “The abyss force is just a corruption. It cannot create—none of the fractured forces can. Only I Am creates life. And He made the abyss race first. They were a Godblood people—divine in form, unrivaled in power, beloved by nature, and cherished by their Maker.”
As she spoke, her voice thinned with mory, and her gaze turned distant.
“But they mistook His kindness for weakness. In their pride, they sought deeper truths… knowledge that was never ant to be touched. They called it enlightennt. In ti, they turned from mana and embraced its broken shadow, communing with twisted Old Ones, beings who clawed at the veil between realms, pretending to be gods.”
She fell silent. The air around her felt colder. A crackle of energy whispered through the garden as though creation itself rembered the betrayal.
“I was young then,” she said at last. “I saw the skies weep lightning. By then, the priests and priestesses of I Am had already been slain. The Godblood had long since sold their hearts to hunger. What followed was judgnt. He scorched the land, wiped out nearly all of them—yet left a remnant. Not as rcy, but as a monunt to His grief. A reminder… of a creation that failed.”
She looked at Asher, her voice softer now. “Then ca your kind. And with you, the other races. You were ant to fill the void left behind. But instead… you waged war on one another. And in doing so, tore the fabric of mana itself.”
Asher’s brow furrowed. “The void…”
She nodded. “That tear beca the void, and from it, the abyss force slips through—leaking in from the realm of banishnt.”
For a mont, only the sound of the twins’ laughter stirred the air. rlin was sniffing a flower too closely and sneezed; Atreides looked scandalized on his behalf.
Sapphira smiled, but there was pain in it. “I once believed peace could save this world. I fought for it. But after our sons were hard… after they were nearly taken… sothing changed. I changed.”
She looked up, her erald eyes trembling with emotion. “So evil cannot be redeed. Those who could change already have. The rest… will not stop until they’re ashes or on top of the world.”
Asher’s jaw clenched. “Then we stop them. Even if it ans killing every last one of them.”
Sapphira stepped closer, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “I don’t want you at the front of this war. Not against the abyss army. Their king—he’s not—”
Asher pressed a finger to her lips.
Quiet. Resolute.
“We’ll keep preparing,” he said. “And I don’t care if their king is ten thousand years old. I’ll fall before he sets one foot past my gates.”
Sapphira slapped Asher’s chest lightly and pouted.
“I won’t find honour in your death.”
Asher chuckled, the sound warm and quiet.
They resud walking in silence, soon spotting the twins seated in the garden grass, giggling as they played with small wooden statues. Without needing to ask, Asher knew—the Angels in their shadows had given them the toys.
He settled onto a nearby bench. Sapphira leaned against his shoulder like it was where she belonged. Her voice ca soft, but sharp with intent.
“You want to know about the Kingmaker, don’t you?”
Asher’s eyes narrowed. “How—”
“I have my eyes and ears around you,” she said calmly. “Or did you think I wouldn’t? After all, a certain noblewoman threw away all sense of decorum and ran to you in Everard.” Her tone was sweet, but Asher felt the weight of a blade pressing to his fifth rib. “And I heard she stayed with you… for a whole week. After the near-loss of our children, no less.”
Her smile was serene. Terrifyingly so.
“Besides,” she added, brushing her fingers through the ends of her hair, “did you forget who I am? I am the continent, Asher. If I wanted, I could ask the wind itself to watch you. I could summon an Old One spirit, an ancient gale older than ti, and you wouldn’t even know. Be grateful, husband, that I haven’t.”
Asher imdiately began caressing her hair, gentle and soothing. “Do you know where the Kingmaker is?” he asked softly.
“Mn.” She nodded. “The Kingmaker is an Old One, but at least not a fallen one. He was crafted by I Am himself to crown kings—not with words or laurels, but with swords.”
She paused, letting the gravity settle.
“He takes the form of a dwarf—short, squat, with a personality like rusted iron. Dismissive. Unimpressed. He’s rejected more than he’s accepted. Entire generations of House Mormont and House Nubis were outright denied. So houses he once tested… don’t even exist anymore.”
A slight smirk played on her lips.
“But then,” she said, her tone shifting—now playful, almost coquettish—”a certain soone broke a record and actually claid a Kingsword. And just recently, the Emperor of Galvia took up the Nightfire’s Kingsword.”
Asher clicked his tongue and flicked her forehead, earning a delighted huff from her.
“So I need to get to Eden.”
She nodded, but the mirth in her expression faded into caution.
“Not just that. You need to first establish yourself—firmly. Because the mont you arrive at Eden, every high lord on the continent will beco aware of your location… for fourteen days.”
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