Chapter 7: I Hate This Place
Noah hadn’t slept well.
Every time he closed his eyes, the distant sounds of battle echoed through the stone walls of his room, shaking him awake.
The palace guards were still dealing with the horde of Wraiths Arlo had summoned, their raised voices mingling with the unearthly screeches of the creatures.
He had counted at least three times when something had crashed through his walls, forcing him to fight off claws that could shear him in two before the knights managed to intervene.
He barely had the energy to be annoyed anymore.
By the time the sun began to rise, Noah had stopped trying to sleep altogether. He sat up on the edge of his ruined bed, running a hand through his hair and sighing.
I need to get this stupid Origin Memory thing sorted out just so I can take a damn bath and sleep in peace.
There was a knock at his door, and he didn’t even need to guess who it was.
"It’s time, Lord Noah." Sir Enzo announced from the other side.
Noah groaned, forcing himself to his feet. His limbs were sluggish, and his muscles ached from all the exercise he’d done that night, but he had no choice but to move forward.
If he didn’t, he was sure Cillian would just throw him into the Thresher unconscious and let the abyssal beasts handle the rest.