Chapter B4C71 - The Golden Core
The Red Tower had fallen. The Magisters had been rooted from their place of power, and dozens upon dozens of them had fallen to the undead horde.
Tyron strode through the corridors, his eyes hard and heart afire. For so long, he had imagined this moment, hoped for it, envisioned it, burned for it. To see it manifest before his eyes was satisfying beyond words. He had brought some small measure of justice to the killers of Magnin and Beory. It was but a tiny fraction; the work was not nearly done. The Noble Houses still stood, the Duke behind them, and the Empire as a whole behind him. Above it all, The Five Divines, false gods sitting in their own plane over this one, the chief architects of his family’s downfall.
No, he wouldn’t be done until all of them had paid the ultimate price, but for so long, he had feared he would fail without achieving anything.
“I have to give you credit,” Filetta said when she found him on the staircase. “I didn’t think you’d manage this.”
“So you’ve said.”
“No, I mean it. You’ve done something no one thought was possible. At this rate, you might actually succeed in bringing down the entire province! Do you understand how insane that is?”
“This is only the beginning,” he promised her. “After this, I’ll bring down the other provinces, one by one, and then the Empire as a whole will crumble.”
Then the gods themselves.
Filetta hesitated.