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Chapter 109: Black Glossy Seal
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2026-07-30 14:00:26Escuridade’s purple eyes were wild, darting past him into the trees, searching for the threat she assumed had just appeared. They were in a secluded forest clearing deep within the ancient woodland, where towering trees crowd together so tightly that very little sunlight reaches the forest floor. The tree’s thick trunks were dark with age, while twisting vines and creeping ivy climb the bark, weaving a dense canopy overhead. The limited light filters through the leaves in mute
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Mar let out a short, humourless bark of laugh. “Eagerly arguing. Right. That is what happens when you tear down the walls of a city and leave the people to pick over the carcass.” He leaned back, the old chair groaning under his weight. “You are a terrible liar, Escuro. Even after eight years, you still talk like a boy trying to convince himself he is doing something noble.” He stared at Escuro, as the man who had carved a path of destruction across the continent. “So,” Mar said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “You have taken the city. You have broken the Santo Order. You have got your throne. Now what? Are you going to keep playing soldier until there is nothing left to fight?”“No, my goal has never been titles or cities. I want what I have always wanted, for the Santo Order to fall. No matter the cost,” Escuro said, taking another sip of rum. “We found her.” The glass in Mar’s han
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Escuro stepped off the boat behind Mar, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the docks. “The trip took longer than expected.” Escuro said defensively. “Who is she,” Mar asked. “Escuridade,” Escuro answered quickly. Escuridade gave Mar a cold look before turning back to Escuro. “More have joined out cause, we are ready to strike Krent.” She said calmly. “Krent,” Mar said, his voice dangerously quiet. He stepped between Escuro and the Escuridade, his large frame cutting off the line of sight. “You are talking about an invasion. You are talking about burning towns.” He looked at Escuro, searching his face. “I brought you one my ship to find my daughter, not to be part of some crusade,” Mar growled, his hand resting on the hilt of the knife at his belt. “You said you wanted to free the impure. You did not say you wanted to turn every port into a funeral pyre.” Es
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“A specimen,” Mar said, the word tasting foul in his mouth. “They are keeping her like a caged bird to see what song she sings.” He turned away, pacing the narrow deck of the Sea Wraith. His mind was racing through every port he had ever docked in, every rumour he had heard in smoky taverns. “If she is useful to them, they will not burn her,” Mar muttered, more to himself than Escuro. “They will keep her somewhere secure. Somewhere far from the docks.” “I am gathering an army,” Escuro said suddenly. “To fight against the Santo Order. To free those they deem impure. Hopefully on day we will find her.” Mar stopped pacing. Hee turned slowly, his blueish grey eyes fixed on Escuro with an expression that was hard to read– half disbelief half something darker. “An army,” Mar repeated, the word landing heavily between them. “You are a boy in black robes talking about armies,
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Ever swing of Escuro’s longsword was deliberate and controlled, allowing him to break through their formation. One by one the guards fell. One fled, running into the city depths. When the last guard who stood his ground fell, the long sword impaling his chest, he fell onto the floor and tried to crawl away, his armoured limbs scraping across the wood floors of the docks. When he when limb, his head fell forward and his helmet rolled of his head across the docks, bouncing twice before spinning to a stop. A group of dock workers came forward at first they silently looked over the dead bodies and then Escuro. despite the dark aura emanating from his form, the workers picked up tools along the docks and lunched forward. Escuro dropped the sword and dogged their attacks. Without killing them he knocked the dock workers out and then went walked over to the pile of bodies. He gently turned Salvaxe over to see his face. From the look in Salvaxe’s eyes, Escur
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Mar’s face paled. “The Santo Order,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Gods above.” He looked at Escuro with a new king of grim respect. “A dungeon by the docks,” Mar repeated, his mind already working through the logistics. “If they are keeping them there, it is because they do not want them wandering the streets. they are waiting for something. Or someone.” He straightened up, his blueish grey eyes hardening. “Look, I have found a way to undo what was done,” Escuro explained. “I just need someone to take me to Cidade dos Escravos.” Mar stared at Escuro, dead silent for several long seconds. The wind whipped a strand of chestnut brown hair across his forehead, but he did not blink. “Undo it,” Mar said, the words flat and sceptical. “You are telling me you can undo what that fountain did to her. My daughter’s mind, her soul– you can fix all that?
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