Chapter 37: Blood magic
With an army arrayed before him, one might assume he had a plan, some hidden scheme, or a trump card to sway the tide of war. But simply observing the figure floating above the battlefield told a different story.
He looked like a ghost of his former self, frail and pallid, a sickly shadow clinging to borrowed power.
It was the older deplorable, the one now ominously known as the Blood Deplorable.
He hovered above the battlefield like a harbinger of dread. Though his form was suspended in the sky, his body trembled faintly under the sun’s gaze. His complexion was sickly pale, marred with black veins crawling beneath the skin. Still, despite the clear signs of decay, none could forget the truth: he remained a 7th star.
The ranks of the allied forces—Darkan and the Church—released an involuntary breath of relief. Their leaders, who had spent sleepless nights drafting the most meticulous of plans, silently thanked the heavens. If he was sick, he would be weaker, wouldn’t he?
They clung to that hope, even though his aura had not diminished from the dreaded Seventh Star.
"So, in the end, the blood orb caught up to him..." Baines muttered, standing beside Roderick, his expression unreadable.
If anything in the world granted you power without cost, it was an illusion. The blood orb promised regeneration and strength, but even miracles had consequences.
Without emotion, Baines gave the order. "Release it."
The command rippled through the command chain, passed with urgency until a signal triggered the next phase of their strategy.
Dark smoke spilled into the air like ink in water, thick and unnatural. It emanated from the forces and coiled upward, wrapping around the sky like a noose.