Chapter 104: The Sun God
Arthur stood over the body of Jonas, his eyes hung low beneath heavy brows, his arms lay limp at his sides as he stared at the headless corpse below him. The stone floor beneath them was stained dark with blood that had pooled and begun to congeal around the severed neck, a sight that Arthur knew would haunt his dreams for years to come.
He did not know Jonas long but he knew him long enough to recognize the man’s worth. Jonas had always worn a smile on his face, the expression seeming almost out of place on his rugged features. Despite his large and rough, even intimidating exterior, with shoulders broad as an ox and hands that could crush stone, Jonas had been just a big teddy bear at heart.
Jonas always looked for the good in every situation, no matter how dire. How he never raised his voice in anger, even when others lashed out from fear or frustration. And most painfully of all, Arthur recalled the stories Jonas had shared during quiet moments—tales of a daughter with pigtails and gap-toothed smile, and a wife with kind eyes waiting for him back home. A home he would never return to now.
Arthur’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, nails digging crescents into his palms deep enough to draw pinpricks of blood. His teeth gritted together with such force that his jaw ached, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish that tore through his chest.
"I-I’m sorry," he whispered, voice cracking under the weight of guilt. "I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to keep you alive..."
His words hung in the still air of the ancient chamber, echoing slightly before fading into silence. The promise that followed came from somewhere deeper, somewhere primal and resolute within his soul.
"I promise... I promise I’ll get stronger, so that one day nobody dies because of my weakness ever again."
Arthur remained standing over the body in silence for a long moment, paying his final respects to a man who deserved far better than this brutal end in a foreign world.
Finally, he turned his attention toward the rest of the room, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand rather than the grief that threatened to consume him. The room he was in was an altar room, dedicated to some sort of deity of this realm. Elaborate carvings covered every surface, worn by time but still discernible.