Chapter 111: Defeat
>>Ariston
The stone beneath my boots trembled. I stood at the edge of the shattered wall on the second floor of the palace, wind tugging at the loose ends of my uniform, carrying with it the scent of ash, blood, and smoke. Below me, the courtyard was chaos incarnate—shouting, steel, and shadow twisted together in a relentless dance of war.
And then I saw her.
The spider nun.
All limbs and shrieking fury, her grotesque form lunged downward from the high ramparts with terrifying speed, crashing into Draegon like a falling mountain. The impact shook the entire courtyard. Stone cracked. Dust exploded. I flinched, hand flying to the crumbling edge of the wall to steady myself.
My breath caught. "That’s not good," I whispered, already stepping forward. "I should go down. Help him."
But just as my foot shifted, just as I bent my knees to leap down into the fray—
I saw something.
Or... someone.
Far, far beyond the battle. At the distant edge of the broken fortress wall, half-wreathed in crumbling ivy and haze, a figure reclined as if the battle meant nothing to him at all. He leaned on one elbow, hand tucked behind his head, long legs stretched out across the uneven stone like he’d claimed it as a throne. A leather belt clung low to his hips, dark pants hugging strong thighs. His button-up shirt hung open, loose and careless across a broad chest.
And those eyes.