Chapter 383: The Three Day War - Night One
As Kir descended on the campsites, the fighting began to quiet down.
The very aura of his mana was visible even to mundane eyes - if only as a white flame surrounding his flaming, angelic wings. The authority that power gave him announced to all that he had been the arbiter of death this day, so when he called for leaders, they came. When he commanded the former slaves to bring any prisoners before him, they did.
His attack had been thorough against the Elevated. There was only one Elevated prisoner remaining. One who had been pummeled unconscious despite regenerating even the wing that Kir had severed.
The rest of the prisoners were slavers - and not many of them - and a larger body of people who wore white or grey robes. The former came in chains or tied with rope, but the latter were merely shepherded, their hands unbound.
Though he wanted to study the Elevated more, the man spat at the offer Kir made to spare his life provided he became a hostage to the demons.
The prisoners in white and grey, he learned, were called the Faithfuls. Most worshipped Eyko the Preserver, and were willing collaborators with those who had enslaved and oppressed the vast majority of people working the mines. Though they provided services such as food and medical attention, it had been ever at the whims of the Angels, the Elevated, and the slavers in that order of importance.
Kir did not even spare more than a glance at the slavers. After explaining that everyone should move away from the mines while he fought the armies of Montmorency and Heaven, he left the prisoners to the people to decide what to do with them.
And the entire time, he kept up the act that he was Ghostheart, even though he could sense that the day was coming when he could no longer hide.
With those things done, he returned to the top of Mt. Morens, sitting in the middle as Rena stood guard and Zazel pondered the events for many minutes before he decided to approach.
"Master Kir-"
"Don’t call me Master," Kir shot back.